The heavy aura it gave off pressed against the air, yet it remained bowed as if it was a knight greeting its king.
Isaac felt a connection tugging at him through his Seed of Providence skill.
The Treant wasn’t a wild monster; it belonged to him. The skill told him.
“Stand up,” he said.
The Treant straightened slowly.
Its eight-foot frame towered over them, but it didn’t lash out.
“Walk to the left.”
It obeyed, branches swaying as it shuffled a few steps, the ground trembling faintly under its weight.
“Stop.”
It halted instantly.
Professor Catherine lowered her hand, exhaling slowly.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” she said, her tone a mix of surprise and relief. “It’s following you like a loyal dog.”
Leora sheathed her sword with a sharp click. Her expression remained unreadable but her stance easing slightly.
“It’s obedient,” she observed.
“For now, keep it outside. We’ll post some scouts to watch it, and make sure it’s truly under your control and not just putting on a show. Though…”
Professor Catherine tilted her head, studying it.
“It might be a Bonded Beast. You grew it, so the bond could’ve formed with you right then and there. Do you feel anything like that?”
“Yes, it feels like it’s tied to me.”
Professor Catherine smiled faintly.
“Thanks god. Though we’ll confirm it tomorrow for security purposes. I’ll bring equipment to measure its stats, rank, and level. For now, give it a name.”
Isaac looked up at the Treant. Its imposing form somehow fitting the moment.
“Tyr,” he said.
“Tyr, huh? Short for Tyrant, like in Tyrant Verdant Treant. Clever, or maybe a little childish.” Professor Catherine teased.
Isaac shrugged. He didn’t care if it was simple; it felt right.
Professor Catherine’s smile lingered, but she shifted gears, nodding toward him.
“Alright, since this marks the end of today’s class. Let’s check the Deathwood Guardian now.”
Isaac reached into his spatial ring, and pulled out the small, wooden doll.
It was intricately carved, no bigger than his hand, with hollow eyes and a stitched mouth that gave it an eerie look.
“Once you plant it in the ground, it’ll protect a one-hectare area, and it can’t be moved once it’s set, so decide carefully where you want to place it,” Professor Catherine explained.
“I’ve got a plan for that,” Isaac said.
He turned toward the house, jogging inside to grab a large clay pot from the kitchen.
It was heavy, wide enough to hold a decent chunk of soil.
He carried it back and set it down between them.
“You said it can’t be moved once planted, right? What if I plant it in this pot instead? Can I move it then?”
“That’s… not something we’ve tested with Deathwood Guardian.” Professor Catherine frowned, crossing her arms.
“Here’s my thinking,” Isaac said, tapping the pot. “This could turn the Deathwood Guardian from a static shield into a mobile weapon. It’s Mystic-grade, strong enough to fight Champion-rank awakeners. Tying it to one spot feels like a waste when it could be chasing down threats.”
Professor Catherine raised an eyebrow.
“While the reason behind your idea is good, we can’t be sure it works.
“After all, if we follow your logic, we could plant the Deathwood Guardian in the ground, then dig up the soil and move it.
“But that doesn’t work. We had similar relics in the past, and they stopped working when they were moved from their original spot.”
Isaac nodded, recalling lessons from his academy days.
“Yeah, I’ve studied this stuff. From what I understood, moving is relative to the original location. If you shift it from the land, the land stays put, and the object’s position changes.
“But in a pot, the whole thing moves—pot, soil, guardian—so the relative position stays the same. If it works, the hectare limit might not even apply.”
Leora spoke up from the side. “It’s possible. Our knowledge comes from past experience with these relics, but they’re rare. No one’s risked testing this because losing a Mystic-grade item isn’t worth it.
“Here, though, we can try. The Deathwood Guardian is precious, but I am as strong as it. If we lost it, then there would be no problem.”
Professor Catherine rubbed her chin, considering it.
“Alright, the choice is yours, Isaac.”
Isaac set the Deathwood Guardian doll in the pot, scooping in some soil from the field to pack it around the base.
Professor Catherine handed him a small knife from her belt.
“Drop your blood on it. That’s how you activate it.”
He took the knife, pricking his finger with a quick cut.
A few drops of blood fell onto the doll’s wooden head, soaking into the grain.
The air shifted, and the doll twitched.
Roots sprouted from its base, digging into the soil, and it grew into a seven-foot scarecrow.
Its arms were long, whip-like vines tipped with thorns, and its hollow eyes glowed faintly red.
The stitched mouth twisted into a jagged grin, making it look downright terrifying.
Before Isaac could react, Professor Catherine moved blindingly fast, and swung a fist toward Isaac’s back.
The Deathwood Guardian reacted instantly.
It rocked the pot, and the scarecrow lunged, its whip-like vines stretching out to wrap around Professor Catherine’s arm, yanking her back mid-strike.
It reared up, ready to lash out, but Isaac raised a hand.
“Stop.”
The scarecrow froze, then retreated, settling back into the pot with an eerie stillness.
Professor Catherine stepped back, shaking out her arm with a nod.
“That confirms it. The Deathwood Guardian works by sensing the bloodlust against you. It’s keyed to protect you specifically.”
“Good to know. Let’s test the range.”
Professor Catherine moved away.
At about 20 meters, she stopped.
“I’ll start slowly,” she called back.
Professor Catherine drew a dagger, and glared at him. She kept her bloodlust subdued.
The scarecrow twitched and turned towards Professor Catherine.
She kept walking away, counting steps.
No matter how far she went, the scarecrow’s gaze was locked onto her.
“Okay, that’s enough distance. I’ll start in earnest now,” Professor Catherine said.
At 50 meters distance (164 feet), she released her bloodlust, no longer keeping it hidden.
The scarecrow’s vines whipped out, stretching long and thin, and the pot rocked as it pulled itself forward.
The vines dug into the soil like claws, dragging the pot along in a lurching, nightmarish gait—half-walking, half-crawling, its thorny limbs slashing the air.
“Let’s try it again!” Professor Catherine shouted.
“Stop!” Isaac told the scarecrow, and Professor Catherine moved away swiflty while she kept her bloodlust active.
The scarecrow looked like a leashed dog, waiting for Isaac’s order to unleash hell upon its prey.
Seventy meters, then hundred, then one hundred fifty, and finally two hundred meters.
The Scarecrow never stopped glaring at Professor Catherine’s retreating figure.
They did a few more tests.
“50-meter sense range,” Professor Catherine said as she walked back. “But it’ll chase past that if the threat’s active.”
She nodded, impressed.
“The Mobility is thanks to the pot. Since it can keep its relative position intact, there is no limit on the area once it senses the threat. Its long, thick and stretchy vines are good for hunting down targets.”
Isaac stared at her with deadpan eyes. Long, thick, and stretchy. Really?
Professor Catherine smiled as she she did not understand what was the problem.