"Hello, Mom. I hope I didn't worry you. I feel fine now," Arin said as he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Avela. She immediately returned the embrace, holding him far tighter than usual as though she were afraid he might suddenly collapse again. Only after several long moments did she finally loosen her grip and carefully inspect his face. Seeing the healthy color in his cheeks eased some of the worry that had been weighing on her heart.
"I was really worried, you know. Don't do that again, promise?" Avela asked, her voice softer than usual. This was already the second time in two years that Arin had fainted without any warning beforehand, and each incident had terrified her. The doctors had performed countless examinations after the first time, yet none of them had been able to explain what had happened to him. Because there was no clear cause, every recurrence felt far more frightening than it should have.
"You don't have to worry. The forest was just scared, and it already made it up to me yesterday evening," Arin replied, trying to suppress the excitement in his voice. The memory of the strange energy he had absorbed and the changes to his body still filled him with anticipation. Even so, he knew better than to explain everything immediately, especially while his mother was still worried. At the moment, reassuring her was far more important than talking about his own good fortune.
"Yes, of course it did," Avela said with a skeptical look. "But you're forbidden from stepping outside the house for the next week." The firmness in her voice left no room for negotiation, and her expression made it clear that she was completely serious. After everything that had happened, she had no intention of letting her son disappear into the forest again anytime soon.
"Okay, I will," Arin agreed without complaint before looking around the apartment. "But how is Dad?" he asked, suddenly realizing that he had not seen his father anywhere since waking up. Under normal circumstances, Teun would have already appeared to check on him at least once. His absence was strange enough to make Arin curious.
"Don't worry about that heartless bastard. He won't be getting out of bed today," Avela replied with an annoyed huff. Although she sounded angry, Arin could hear the amusement hidden beneath her irritation. Apparently, his father had done something to earn his mother's displeasure again. Considering his father's talent for accidentally getting himself into trouble, that was hardly surprising.
"Okay, but can you tell me what threatened the forest, please?" Arin asked as they walked back toward the apartment together. Ever since waking up, he had been curious about the details of what had happened after he lost consciousness. The forest's panic had been so intense that he could still remember the fear lingering in his mind. Whatever had caused such a reaction could not have been something ordinary.
"Sure, no problem. It's actually quite surprising what happened," Avela said as she sat down in the living room. "Apparently, a rat managed to sneak into the forest, and that's why it went haywire." She then explained everything she knew, carefully recounting the events that had taken place while Arin had been unconscious.
For once, Arin did not attempt to escape the conversation. Usually, any discussion with his mother inevitably descended into a lecture about his habits, his studies, or something else he would rather avoid. This time, however, he listened quietly and asked questions whenever something caught his interest. The more he heard, the more he realized just how close the forest had come to genuine danger.
The remainder of the day passed surprisingly peacefully. Family members came and went, each of them curious to see how Arin was doing after causing such a commotion before fainting. The apartment filled with cheerful chatter, teasing remarks, and plenty of laughter as everyone gradually relaxed. By the time evening arrived, the tension from the previous day had almost completely disappeared.
Eventually, Arin excused himself and returned to his bedroom. The moment he entered, however, he stopped in surprise. Resting on top of his desk was an object that definitely had not been there earlier. Beside it lay a neatly folded note, making the entire scene seem even more mysterious.
"Well, what is this?" Arin muttered to himself as he approached the desk. He picked up the note first and immediately recognized the elegant handwriting. As he read the contents, his eyes gradually widened in surprise.
Dear Arin,
Without your alertness, Planet Earth might very well have been destroyed. Only your connection to the forest and the fact that your family has cared for it for at least a thousand years made it wary of outsiders. Even though it did not truly understand the danger, it still warned you and, through you, helped save the world from a terrible plot.
For that, I am grateful.
I hope this book will help both you and the forest continue to evolve.
— Gaia.
"That is thoughtful," Arin muttered after reading the letter a second time. "It seems Grandpa wasn't the only one who received a reward for his efforts." He then picked up the book resting on the desk and nearly dropped it because of its unexpected weight.
The tome looked completely ordinary at first glance. It was enormous, well over a thousand pages thick, and every page was the size of an A4 sheet of paper. Despite its incredible size, the cover was remarkably plain, consisting of nothing more than a simple shade of blue. Written across the front in modest letters was a single title: How to Make Your Forest Better.
That plain appearance only made Arin more interested.
Over the years, people had begun comparing the various knowledge tomes sold by the System and had reached a rather surprising conclusion. The more decorated a tome appeared, the less useful the information inside usually was. Scholars believed that excessive decorations existed mainly to attract buyers, whereas truly valuable tomes needed no such embellishments because they would sell regardless of their appearance. Therefore, the most useful books were often the plainest.
Because of that discovery, seeing such an undecorated tome immediately convinced Arin that he was holding something extraordinary. His curiosity won out almost instantly. He sat down at his desk, opened the first page, and began reading. Before he even finished the introduction, he was completely hooked.
"By the way, where is Arin?" Karl asked as he cut into his steak and looked around the table. It was Sunday evening, which meant the entire family tried to gather together for dinner whenever possible. Even after the world had changed so drastically, they had stubbornly held on to that tradition. For the Sonnenbergs, sharing a meal together was one of the easiest ways to maintain their sense of family and remind themselves that some things should never change.
The tradition itself was far older than most people would have guessed. It had originated during the centuries when Europe had been almost entirely Christian and nearly all work came to a halt on Sundays. Because the Sonnenberg family had never fully converted, it had been politically unwise to appear too different from their neighbors. During periods such as the Crusades, any excuse would have been enough for hostile nobles to accuse them of being heathens and use that accusation as a pretext to invade the Crimson Forest.
As a result, the family had carefully adopted certain local customs without abandoning their own beliefs. The weekly Sunday dinner had remained one of those traditions, surviving through centuries of war, political upheaval, and now even the arrival of mana and the System. That was precisely why Arin's absence felt so unusual. Even if he had fainted the previous day, he normally would have appeared for at least a short while before returning to rest.
"I don't know," Avela replied as she placed another piece of meat onto Tilly's plate. "I don't know he went inside his room yesterday evening, and he hasn't left it all day. Do you think something happened to him?" As she spoke, her earlier worries began to creep back into her mind, causing her expression to grow increasingly anxious.
She had finally started to relax after seeing her son awake and healthy that morning, but his continued absence was making her nervous again. After all, Arin's condition had already frightened her twice in only a few years. The possibility that something else might have happened to him while he was alone in his room was enough to make her immediately rise from her chair.
Before she could take more than a single step, Teun reached out and gently stopped her.
"Don't worry. I was only curious," Karl said before Avela could speak. "Maybe he's more tired than he let on." He continued eating his steak as though the matter did not concern him very much, but his calm demeanor hid a thoughtful expression.
In reality, Karl was already considering several possibilities. The boy had experienced a great deal in a very short amount of time, and it would not be strange if his body or mind simply needed additional rest. Furthermore, after witnessing the strange connection between Arin and the forest, Karl suspected there might be changes occurring that none of them yet understood. Until there was a reason to worry, however, he preferred to remain patient.
As he ate, Karl's thoughts gradually drifted toward a completely different matter. In front of him rested a small notebook containing the family's projected expenses for the month. Food alone accounted for an astonishing amount of their spending, and the numbers seemed to grow larger every time he looked at them. Maintaining a large family had never been cheap, but the changes brought by the System had made daily necessities even more expensive.
At the moment, most of their food still had to be purchased from shops and suppliers. Very few people had begun producing crops in significant quantities, and those who did often struggled to meet demand. The European Union had therefore begun heavily encouraging people to return to farming, offering subsidies and other incentives while placing increasing pressure on local governments to support agricultural expansion. In some regions, the measures were so aggressive that people joked they were practically being forced back into the fields.
Surprisingly, many people did not mind the idea at all.
After spending six months isolated inside heavily protected cities with very limited forms of entertainment, people around the world had begun changing their priorities. Families spent more time together than they had in decades, and many couples discovered that they actually enjoyed one another's company. As a result, an unexpected phenomenon had started appearing across nearly every nation on Earth.
An astonishing number of women had become pregnant.
The sudden rise in pregnancies had sent governments and world leaders into a state of excitement. Population growth had been stagnating or even declining in many countries for years, creating serious concerns about future labor shortages and aging populations. Now, however, a potential baby boom was unfolding right before their eyes. For many leaders, it felt as though an unexpected miracle had fallen directly into their laps.
A larger population meant more workers, more consumers, and, in the long term, greater national wealth. In the age of mana, it also meant more potential cultivators and more opportunities to produce talented individuals capable of strengthening their nations. Some optimistic projections even suggested that certain countries might eventually increase their populations by nearly fifty percent if the trend continued. Unsurprisingly, politicians and economists alike had been celebrating the news.
Karl himself could understand their enthusiasm.
In the new era, population was no longer merely a statistic used in economic reports. Every additional citizen represented another person who could cultivate, work, innovate, or defend humanity against future threats. A growing population meant a stronger nation, and a stronger nation meant better odds of surviving whatever challenges the future might hold. Considering everything humanity had already endured, there were very few people willing to complain about having too many children being born.