On the tenth day of the bloodline activation, Ron noticed a subtle change in Ailan’s state.
Her energy fluctuation became unstable, the vines sometimes shrank and sometimes swelled, and the frequency of runes flickering on the leaves increased as if heralding some significant transformation to come.
"Master, I feel... a call."
Written on Ailan’s leaves, the text appeared and disappeared due to the energy fluctuation:
"My bloodline is telling me that I need to enter a special dormant state to complete the final metamorphosis."
Ron immediately realized that this was the omen of the Third Stage—complete metamorphosis.
In his research, a tree spirit needs to undergo a complete "death and rebirth" process to truly awaken its full potential.
"Are you sure you want to enter the final stage now?"
Ron cautiously asked, "Once it begins, it cannot be interrupted."
Ailan’s vines swayed resolutely:
"Yes, Master. I can feel the energy within me has reached a critical point. If I don’t quickly enter the metamorphosis state, I might be injured due to energy overload."
After experimental tests, Ron agreed to her request.
Ailan chose the center of the backyard, where the soil was deep, sunlight abundant, and underground water veins rich, as the ideal place for metamorphosis.
When the last leaf was fully grown, the tree spirit’s consciousness sank into slumber, beginning the final metamorphosis process.
She appeared like an ordinary ancient tree, but Ron knew that under that heavy bark, a new life was being nurtured.
......
Recalling this, Ron sighed gently, looking at the ancient tree before him, a hint of anticipation in his eyes.
Through "Extraordinary Recognition," he could sense the astonishing energy potential contained within the tree.
Ailan’s bloodline was evolving towards an ancient tree fairy, perhaps even a higher-level Golden Oak Queen.
"Will Ailan Mother be different when she wakes up?"
Dale asked, looking up, her purple-blue eyes flickering with concern:
"Will she... not recognize us?"
Ron noticed the Little Sea Siren’s worry and shook his head gently:
"Her appearance might change a bit, but her heart is still the Ailan Mother who loves you. The essence of the soul won’t disappear due to a change in form, just like you’ve become stronger after eating so much ’special food,’ yet you are still our little Dale."
The Little Sea Siren seemed comforted by this answer, nodded happily, and skipped into the house:
"I’m going to draw a picture for Ailan Mother and give it to her when she wakes up!"
Ron and Lilia exchanged a glance, then both turned towards the workshop.
"Teacher, I’ve sorted the accounts for today, but I’m a bit uncertain about the order for that batch of Star Core Grass..."
Lilia said, taking out a thick ledger, looking somewhat unsure.
Since Ailan entered the metamorphosis state, the daily operations of the workshop had fallen on her shoulders.
Despite her astonishing learning ability, she still found it somewhat overwhelming to handle matters requiring experience.
Ron glanced at the ledger, pointing out several areas needing revision:
"The pricing of Star Core Grass should consider the harvesting moon phase. Those collected during a new moon are valued thirty percent higher than during a full moon. This batch was harvested during the waning gibbous phase, so the price should be fifteen percent below the benchmark, not twenty percent."
Lilia carefully noted these points, but her face couldn’t hide her fatigue.
Despite giving her all, managing the workshop’s procurement, sales, inventory, and daily maintenance was truly too burdensome for someone just beginning to learn.
"Ailan Sister always managed to arrange everything perfectly."
Lilia sighed softly, saying:
"I finally realized she silently did so much work, never flaunting, making the entire workshop run like a precise clock. I’ve tried my best, but still feel somewhat..."
Ron nodded, feeling some emotions swell up in his heart as well.
It’s those seemingly insignificant daily tasks that form the foundation of the workshop’s operation.
Ailan’s silent contributions, which kept everything in perfect order, are often only truly recognized when they’re gone.
Just then, a sharp screech came from a distance.
A large macaw flew into the courtyard, its feathers shimmering brightly in the sunlight, circling a few times in the air before landing on Ron’s outstretched arm.
"Lord Ron! Urgent message! Urgent message!"
The parrot squawked in an exaggerated tone, now quite familiar with this young man.