"Yes, it was quite a useful bee," Tom said with an excited grin. "The species is called the Verdant Honey Bee (Uncommon), and honestly, I don't think there could have been a better match for our family." His eyes sparkled as he remembered the report his mother had received after using her Identify skill on the hive. "The description alone was enough to make every beekeeper in the family celebrate," he added before clearing his throat and reciting the information almost word for word.
Verdant Honey Bee (Uncommon)
The Verdant Honey Bee is a species of green honey bee that thrives in ancient forests, flower-filled meadows, and locations rich in natural vitality. Unlike ordinary bees, Verdant Honey Bees instinctively seek flowers saturated with Life Mana, gathering pollen that is refined into two unique products: Verdant Honey and Verdant Beeswax.
Neither product contains enough vitality to heal severe injuries, but both are highly prized by herbalists, craftsmen, and alchemists alike. Verdant Honey nourishes the body, accelerates natural recovery, and slightly improves stamina when consumed regularly over a long period of time. Verdant Beeswax is exceptionally flexible while remaining remarkably durable, making it highly desirable for medicines, enchanted candles, protective sealants, and premium bowstrings. Despite their unusual appearance, Verdant Honey Bees are naturally gentle creatures and will rarely attack unless their hives are directly threatened.
"That is all well and good, and I'm genuinely excited that our family managed to acquire such extraordinary bees," Arin replied with a thoughtful nod. "Especially since they seem to regulate the Life Mana within the forest itself. I can't imagine plants remaining healthy if they stayed oversaturated with Life Mana for too long." His expression remained perfectly calm as he spoke, yet that calmness only caused Tom's confidence to disappear. He had known Arin long enough to recognize that expression, and it almost always meant trouble was coming.
"Now tell me," Arin continued in a much deeper voice, "why have I not heard a single word about this beeswax?" He folded his arms while staring directly at Tom without blinking. "We've owned these bees for three years now, and they've been living inside our forest for the last two. If Verdant Beeswax is truly exceptional for making bowstrings, then why wasn't any of it made available to me?" Every word was spoken calmly, yet somehow that made the question feel even more intimidating.
"Well... that's actually a simple explanation," Tom answered with a nervous laugh that sounded anything but convincing. "Several elders instructed us not to mention the bees yet because the colony wasn't considered stable." His expression gradually became serious as he continued speaking. "During the first two years, nearly all of the honey was reserved for our great-grandfathers. Everyone agreed they needed the nourishment to remain healthy and continue supporting the family for as long as possible."
"I understand that part completely," Arin answered without hesitation. "I would never dream of taking honey away from them if it truly helps them live longer." He knew better than most what role those two ancient elders played within the Sonnenberg family. Their value could never be measured simply by whether they were still capable of working.
To an outsider, the two elders might appear to be little more than an additional burden. They rarely participated in the family's daily activities and could no longer contribute physically like they once had. However, that impression completely ignored the wisdom they had accumulated over many decades. Experience was something that could never be replaced, no matter how talented the younger generations became.
Those elders had witnessed political struggles, economic disasters, wars, prosperous eras, and countless family disputes long before anyone currently alive had even been born. Because of that lifetime of experience, they often viewed problems from an entirely different perspective than the Patriarch or the Elder Council. They had no personal ambitions left to pursue, no careers to protect, and no reputations to build. Their only concern was ensuring that the Sonnenberg family would continue thriving for many generations to come.
That unique position allowed them to advise the family without being influenced by personal gain. They could recommend difficult decisions that younger leaders often hesitated to make because they had no emotional attachment to the people involved. Even if someone disliked their advice, there was very little anyone could realistically do about it. Families as ancient as the Sonnenbergs survived precisely because they possessed elders capable of looking beyond the problems of a single generation.
"So no," Arin finally concluded, "I have absolutely no issue with the honey being reserved for them." He gave Tom a small nod to show that he genuinely meant it. "If it improves their health, then every drop was well spent." His expression softened slightly, but only for a brief moment.
"But don't think you're getting away from the real question," Arin said, his expression becoming serious once again. "What happened to the beeswax? Don't tell me the elders took that as well, because I know both of them well enough to know they would have absolutely no use for it." His eyes narrowed slightly as he crossed his arms. "The honey was definitely forced upon them for their own benefit, so who ended up taking the beeswax?"
The determination in Arin's eyes made it clear that he had no intention of letting the subject go. During the past three years, he had crafted countless bows for the family, but every single one had been made from ordinary materials gathered throughout the forest. None of them had ever reached the quality of the magical Twilight Yew from which he had crafted his masterpiece. That tree had been one of a kind, and ever since losing that bow during the battle against the goblins, he had never found another material capable of replacing it.
Every time he remembered that battle, he became slightly irritated. The bow had been the finest weapon he had ever created, and losing it still stung far more than he cared to admit. Since then, he had searched for materials worthy of becoming its successor, yet every piece of wood he had found had ultimately been ordinary by comparison. Now he had suddenly learned that an extraordinary crafting material had existed inside the Sonnenberg forest for years without anyone telling him, and that realization was unbelievably frustrating.
Even so, Arin already suspected who had claimed the beeswax. In truth, he did not really have any grounds to complain if his suspicion proved correct. Whoever had taken it likely had a perfectly reasonable justification for doing so. Unfortunately, knowing that did absolutely nothing to stop him from wanting to argue about it anyway.
"Grandpa Bennie took it," Tom admitted with a strained expression. "He argued that it was his trade connections that had secured the bees in the first place, so he should be the one making use of the beeswax for bowstrings." Tom rubbed the back of his head before continuing, clearly uncomfortable with revealing the truth. "To be honest, I wasn't supposed to tell anyone. Grandpa Bennie specifically asked us to keep quiet about it."
Tom could hardly blame Bennie for his reasoning. During the first two years, there simply had not been enough beeswax for more than a single craftsman to use effectively, so concentrating the supply in one place had made perfect sense. Bennie had also devoted himself almost exclusively to refining better bowstrings, ensuring that none of the precious material was wasted through unnecessary experimentation. From that perspective, his decision had been completely logical.
The problem was that circumstances had changed. The bee colonies had multiplied far beyond their original size, and the amount of beeswax being produced was steadily increasing every season. Even so, Bennie had continued keeping the entire supply for himself. Tom knew that if he stayed silent any longer, the situation would only become worse once Arin inevitably discovered the truth on his own.
"I've only ever seen Grandpa Bennie use the beeswax to make bowstrings," Tom continued with an awkward smile. "At first, that wasn't a problem because there simply wasn't enough for anyone else to use. But now..." He hesitated before letting out a weary sigh. "Now there's enough that other craftsmen could start experimenting with it as well, and keeping everything locked away doesn't really make sense anymore."
"I see," Arin replied calmly, although the smile spreading across his face made Tom far more nervous than if he had shouted. "So Grandpa Bennie has been keeping all of the beeswax to himself." He slowly nodded as though he had just solved an interesting puzzle. "That's wonderful. I'm sure Father and Grandpa will be absolutely thrilled to hear that they've been missing out on such valuable crafting material."
Tom had known Arin long enough to recognize that smile immediately. It was the same expression Arin wore whenever he had already decided exactly what he was going to do next. There was no anger visible on his face, no irritation in his voice, and no sign that he intended to start a serious argument. Somehow, that made the situation infinitely more frightening.
Arin's grandfather had been happier than anyone when his profession changed after the Guardian Trial. No longer being restricted to the path of a Pathfinder had allowed him to devote himself entirely to crafting, and he had embraced that opportunity wholeheartedly. If he discovered that a rare material capable of improving bowstrings had existed within the family for years without ever reaching the other craftsmen, Arin could already imagine the discussion that would follow. Whether Grandpa Bennie had been justified or not, the Elder Council would almost certainly become involved before the matter was settled.
"Well..." Tom muttered to himself as he watched Arin sprint away toward the center of the village. "This is going to become a complete mess." He sighed deeply before shaking his head. There was nothing more he could do now except hope that the inevitable argument would not end with the entire crafting division being dragged into a family meeting.
Meanwhile, far away from the Sonnenberg forest, events of an entirely different scale were unfolding. In the middle of the ocean stood a massive island city that had changed beyond recognition over the past several years. What had once been nothing more than the floating headquarters of the United Nations had gradually transformed into one of the most important political centers on Earth. Countless governments had invested enormous amounts of money into ensuring that the city remained operational despite the dramatic changes reshaping the planet.
The relocation itself had been born out of necessity. During the American Civil War, many nations had agreed that keeping the organization's headquarters inside the United States was no longer practical. At the same time, none of the major powers wished to grant another country the political influence that came with permanently hosting the United Nations. After decades of negotiations, they eventually settled on establishing a neutral headquarters upon the artificial Null Islands.
After the system and mana came, many people were thinking about the feasibility of the project. The city rested upon an enormous floating platform with no natural land beneath it, making its long-term survival uncertain. Every expansion required tremendous engineering efforts, and maintaining such a structure in the middle of the ocean was incredibly expensive. Several nations had even begun discussing whether abandoning the project altogether would be the wiser choice.
Then the world changed once again.
As the planet continued expanding, geological upheavals beneath the floating city forced an enormous landmass upward from the depths of the ocean. What had once been an entirely artificial platform suddenly found itself resting upon a genuine island. Overnight, the greatest concern surrounding the headquarters disappeared, and countries that had previously considered withdrawing their support quickly reversed their decisions. Diplomats, military advisers, researchers, and countless government officials hurried back to the city as construction accelerated faster than ever before.
While politicians around the world celebrated the unexpected development, there was at least one person whose mood was the exact opposite. Inside the rapidly growing city, one young woman watched the endless stream of arriving delegations with obvious annoyance. Judging by the expression on her face, the newfound success of the island had completely ruined whatever plans she had been hoping for.