Chapter 113: 021: Meaning
The cub was a baby brown bear, slightly larger than a palm, likely born not long ago. Its eyes were still closed as it clung to its mother’s belly, struggling to suckle from her nurturing pouch.
But the mother bear’s body was already stiff. No matter how hard the cub tried, it couldn’t extract even a drop of milk.
Lynch exclaimed, "How did you discover it?"
Logically speaking, his physical senses were far superior to Avery’s, yet he hadn’t detected any movements or sounds before.
Avery gazed at the cub, a gentle smile gracing her lips. "Maybe it was my sixth sense."
She crouched down and gently touched the cub’s fur.
The baby bear immediately perceived Avery’s presence. It tumbled off its mother’s belly, landing by her feet, then scrambled up to rub its little head against Avery’s pant leg.
It worked hard and earnestly, constantly opening its mouth with soft, childish cries. Though the language was incomprehensible, the desperation for food and survival was unmistakably felt.
"What a clever little thing," Avery praised, gently stroking the cub.
Lynch remarked, "Are you planning to raise it?"
Avery turned and replied, "Why not?"
Lynch said, "It’s not feasible."
The cub was far too young, just barely born, and the difficulty in raising it was immense.
Avery teased, "Oh? Aren’t you well-versed in extraordinary cultivation? Didn’t you boast you could raise a dragon? And now a little bear is beyond you?"
Lynch shook his head. "It’s not the same."
Raising it wasn’t the issue—it was whether it was worth it. After all, it was just an ordinary bear cub, not a rare transcendent creature, and for a wizard, it held no inherent value.
Returning it to nature would be the best choice.
Avery suddenly grew upset. "What’s the basis of your ’difference’? Its ’value’? Is it only worth saving if it benefits you? If that’s the case, then the world should be ruled by Black Wizards."
Lynch frowned. "Why such a temper? It’s just a bear. If you want to care for it, go ahead. I was simply stating the facts—is that really necessary?"
Avery refused to let it go. "The fact is—you’re too cold-hearted!"
Her eyes carried a trace of disappointment as she said, "Natural selection is undoubtedly correct, but the world’s cruelty doesn’t mean we must meet it with indifference. Rationality is, of course, important, but at times, sentimentality matters just as much."
"A small gesture—I thought our ideals aligned." She shook her head.
Lynch muttered, "Is it really a small gesture?"
Lending a hand to drag someone drowning to shore was easy, but taking responsibility for a life was not.
Avery said stubbornly, "Anyway, I’m saving it."
Lynch replied, "Suit yourself."
Truthfully, Lynch had always thought Avery was rational. Even when she’d been a bit erratic lately, he saw it as controlled relaxation of her logic. But now, her decision to make such an emotional choice truly caught him off guard.
In that moment, she no longer resembled the powerful commander who led troops to defeat Black Wizards. Instead, she seemed like an ordinary girl, empty-headed but kind-hearted.
And so, from that moment on, their journey gained a new member.
Though it was yet to be seen how long this new member would remain...
At dusk, in a clearing within the forest.
The campfire sparked and crackled as Avery sat in front of it, pressing a piece of jerky into the bear cub’s mouth. Her brows furrowed tightly, her anxiety palpable as sweat dotted her forehead. "Eat it! Hurry and eat something! Weren’t you hungry?"
The cub had been hungry all day, crying incessantly and appearing gravely weakened.
No matter how Avery pushed the jerky to its mouth, the cub steadfastly refused to eat.
Lynch couldn’t hold back. "Come on, this is a newborn cub. Do you think it can eat jerky?"
Avery’s large, teary eyes overflowed with helplessness. "Then what should I do?"
See? I told you it’d be troublesome!
"Wait."
He retrieved a few milk fruits from his Space Ring, then took a cauldron and extracted their juices, heating them over the fire. After allowing them to cool to a suitable temperature, he handed the concoction to Avery.
"Feed it this."
Avery quickly took the bowl and began scooping spoonfuls to feed the cub. This time, the cub didn’t reject it. As soon as it caught the milky scent, it eagerly slurped it down.
"It ate! It ate!" Avery said brightly.
Grinning cheerfully, she remarked, "As expected of someone who could raise such a remarkable Fire Dragon Lizard. You have some skill after all."
Lynch countered, "That’s not much of a compliment..."
Anyone with even basic biological sense would know what to do, right? Playing the Holy Mother without understanding anything...
Avery simply laughed. "Haha."
After a moment’s pause, she hit the nail on the head. "Don’t worry—any help you give me is something I’ll keep a record of. While I can’t fix the problem myself, I won’t stint in repaying those who help me solve it."
Fine, if a wealthy benefactor insists, they can do anything they want.
"Ugh—"
As they were chatting, the cub suddenly vomited all the milk it had just consumed.
Avery frantically exclaimed, "What’s wrong?"
Lynch said, "Overeating and spitting up milk—it’s normal..."
As he spoke, his voice abruptly cut off. He walked over to inspect the cub, quickly realizing it wasn’t just simple regurgitation.
The cub twitched violently, its skin reddening, its eyes tightly shut, clearly in extreme pain.
Lynch examined it closely, his brow furrowing.
Avery hurriedly asked, "What’s wrong?"
Lynch replied, "This bear’s heart has an issue. It was probably born prematurely after its mother was forced to give birth before her death—its organs aren’t fully developed."
Avery demanded, "Don’t explain it in detail—just tell me how to fix it!"
Lynch said, "It’ll need a heart transplant."
Avery responded, "Name your price."
Lynch hesitated, then reminded her, "This is just an ordinary cub. Even if you save it, its lifespan will still be very limited—I assume you understand that."
Bears only live twenty years or so at most. For transcendents like them, saving it was entirely meaningless.
Avery still insisted, "Then let it live as long as possible."
Lynch frowned. "Do you realize what you’re saying?"
The only way to grant the cub a lifespan equivalent to theirs was transformation—to make it transcendent.
But that was far from simple.
Lynch said, "Transforming ordinary creatures into transcendent ones—we both know the cost isn’t small."
The price was steep enough to secure the most elite magic pets.
Avery asked, "Are you doubting my resources?"
Lynch couldn’t understand why Avery was so adamant about saving this cub, but since she’d insisted to this extent, he decided to go along with it.
He immediately retrieved surgical tools, suture threads, and other equipment from his Space Pocket and began the operation right there. 𝓷ℴ𝓿𝓹𝓾𝒷.𝓬𝓸𝓂
He opened the cub’s chest and quickly identified the problem: the membrane of its heart hadn’t fully closed, leaving a hole. Lynch took a piece of membrane from the heart of a Blue-Kissed Crocodile from his Space Ring and patched the hole.
Heart transplants required meticulous handling, so he temporarily sealed the defect for now, planning to address it properly later.
In just over ten minutes, Lynch concluded the surgery.
The cub lay sleeping on the rug, the anesthesia still lingering, but its skin had returned to normal.
Avery gently stroked its fur and suddenly looked at Lynch, explaining, "Did you know? When I was three or four years old, I raised a similar small animal—a puppy. When I first came across it, it was about this size."
"I loved it dearly. Wherever I went, I brought it along, always chasing and playing together."
Pausing briefly, she continued, "Until one day, my father saw it and stomped it to death."
Lynch was stunned. "What the hell?"
Avery smiled faintly. "My father felt my behavior was inappropriate—too emotional. As a child of the Tavendish family, I was supposed to prioritize rationality. Sentimentality would only create weaknesses."
Lynch fell silent. "I... am deeply shaken."
Stomping a puppy to death in front of a three- or four-year-old girl... Even not having experienced it firsthand, Lynch could comprehend the enormous psychological trauma.
Avery raised her head to the night sky. "My pup didn’t die immediately. To be precise, my father intentionally didn’t kill it outright but left it hanging by a thread. I still remember vividly how it whimpered, struggling to crawl toward me, coughing blood while licking the back of my hand."
"Though we couldn’t communicate, I understood its meaning. It was comforting me, saying: don’t be afraid, don’t be sad..."
Lynch couldn’t find the words.
This kind of ’education’...
Truly seemed twisted.
Avery said, "From that moment on, I was required to maintain absolute rationality at all times. I couldn’t indulge in pointless acts or waste any thought on useless emotions."
She turned to face Lynch and said, "I know leaving this cub to die in the forest is the most logical choice. I know keeping a common creature like this by my side demands immense cost."
"And yet I still want to do it."
"For this moment, during this journey, I don’t want to live with the glasses on anymore. I don’t want to be the Tavendish family’s eldest daughter. I want to be that little girl who loved her puppy at three or four years old instead."
Avery stared at the fire. "Everyone around me growing up told me that abandoning emotions and embracing reason was the only way to walk the Wizard’s Road long enough. On this grueling path, sentimentality is a burden, and everything must center on profit—that’s how we achieve eternity."
"But..."
She looked at Lynch with confusion. "I don’t understand. If abandoning emotions is the price of eternity, then even if we achieve it, what’s the point?"