Branching Thoughts

Year 132

“This is the third batch of prospective priests and students.” A priest gestured to the Patreearch, as a group of 50 walked into the room. They all bowed, and were quickly given a short interview. A test of their faith, as the Patreearch made them recite the constitution of the Freshlands. Then a quiz on my abilities. 

It was a strange feeling, but at the same time, I was numb, The school of Treeology had to expand quickly in order to meet the need for social and ‘cultural’ influence in the region, so this school had to grow quickly.

Conflict and confusion naturally emerged. Speed meant planning was not proper, and it seemed the 10 Decarches quickly had different opinions of how to expand the school. They soon squabbled over things like what was the right way to pray, what was the right way to do things, and their methods. Decarches, because it was 10 Patriarchs and Matriarchs. 

I summoned them all and they all presented their case. Each Patreearch came from a different place, and there was some diversity in races too. One of them was a half-elf, another was a centaur, another a treefolk. As such, each had different areas which they felt was important in their faith. 

For some, it was caring for the land. That meant they were both priests and druid. For another, it was about the birth and death of souls, and the ceremonies. While they seemed like they could mutually coexist, their arguments would devolve into arguments about what is of a higher value or semantics. 

For example, one of them, in their practice of honoring those who have died, would bury the body in the earth, and plant a tree on them. Yet, because the bodies of mortals sometimes carry sickness or poison. For one, it is still right to bury them. For the other, caring for the earth takes precedence, so the sick or poisoned corpse should be burned, or at least processed before burying. 

It’s often little but fundamental differences in which values hold strong, that created these conflicts. They are ‘small’ conflicts, in the sense that they can still live with each other, and operate within the same area, but certainly it is an ideological difference. In a way, it’s like different teachers in a school, each thinking their own subject is the most important one.

But at the same time, I didn’t want to clamp down on these differences in opinion. I didn’t see myself as a founder of an orthodoxy where there is only a single source of truth or opinion, it certainly wasn’t aligned with how plants evolved and adapted to their surroundings. 

Thus the faith I had must be able to evolve, and it was only right that the willingness to accept differences of opinion be set up at the start. But at the same time, a faith that could evolve was also one that would squabble, and eventually break apart. Yet, as I pondered this problem, whether I set it up or not, faith will naturally evolve as the greed and instincts of man meant the rules will shift over time. It is only proper, that I set up the mechanics to do so early on, and finetune it, since I am after all, their ‘deity’. 

So, to the ten Decarches, I decided to allow each of them to lead their own ‘departments’. A student would rotate and go through all of them, over the 2-3 years of training as a priesthood. There would be a debate, and a voting system as the 10 decarches would have to decide. In time, I saw that I’d probably expand the decarches into a proper council of high priests, but that would be in the near or far future. 

For now, a departmental approach seemed better. I mean, I could in theory agree with any of the ten and decide that as canon, but a tree exists in the real world, and the proper way to do is, is to let the priests carry it out and observe the consequences of such beliefs. Then, apply corrective guidance as and when necessary.

One thing I was quick to notice amongst the mortals of the world, was that they didn’t believe neither in god’s omnipotence nor omniscience. The concept of a one god of everything does not exist, simply because of the visible divinity of lesser deities and the higher gods. 

So it comes off rather strangely to me, that in this aspect, these people are progressive. They can accept that the gods can change their minds, and frequently, in their prayers to the divine, often try to negotiate with the gods. Even if it’s futile. Is it because they’ve always lived in a world where there is an expectation of a pantheon of gods? And they seem to acknowledge, without much reservation, that gods have a limited scope of powers.

Still, differences emerge from their different interpretations and priorities. It’s only natural, and it’s something I should let it run its course. 

-

In this period of tense peace, with the temples still planning for a second crusade, I continued to improve on our beetles and spiders. New assassin and anti-human variants, and higher range for my new artillery bomber-beetles. They are larger, about the size of a giant beetle, and they move a lot slower. But, they can shoot out an acidic projectile that can travel a few hundred meters, so that makes them a proper ranged attacker. Even if they are absolutely defenseless otherwise.

No matter. Little secret weapons I can use on the next crusade. Best to keep them hidden and only reveal them when really necessary.

Horns enjoyed all beetle related stuff, but I did notice he cared more for the beetles. Trevor and the other artificial minds were the ones driving the changes to the assassin spiders. I thought I should make more ‘assassin spider’ artificial minds, such that they act as my assassin-generals.

Jasmine was quick to support the idea and recommended that they be assigned to her, since she and Patreeck coordinated the surveillance and monitoring of the denizens of the Freshlands.

I wondered whether that was the right idea. What if Jasmine and Patreeck made the wrong call and assassinated someone without truly checking? What if they killed someone who shouldn’t be killed?

I didn’t think that outsourcing the business of killing was something I was willing to do. Not until I could trust their judgement, even if they have been shortlisting and compiling crimes on our denizens. I felt rather strongly that I should be the one deciding on whether they lived or died. At least, in assassination situations. 

In a war situation as everyone present was a combatant, I am more willing to give my assistants free reign to decide. But in more covert and subjective situations, I don’t think it’s fair. Many people have rebellious and treasonous thoughts, but that doesn’t mean they would all rebel, or would be disloyal. In fact, I would suspect anyone who never had that thought at all, because that meant they have never internally considered it. That generally meant their loyalty has never been tested, and as such, they may switch even when they seemed loyal all this while. 

So, I demanded a dossier for every suspected person. They’ve been graded on a framework and risk rated. I felt like this was some kind of risk rating for loans, or a little like the social credit scores, but... if I’m the only one I trust to make this decision, then this is the best way to thin down the risk.

“Or we can focus on Freshka and the nearby countries?” Trevor suggested. “Based on the potential damage that these unfavorable people can cause in faraway places, it’s rather limited.”

Ah, a distance weightage. That’s a good point. “Then let’s do that. Only flag those who operate within the near-valley zone. For those further out, only flag those as high risk, are a large movement, or have high magical power.” 

With that, the list was shortened considerably. 

-

Trent, my artificial soul in charge of my intercontinental trade route gave his weekly summary of the trades. It took a year, but the basic infrastructure for trade was finally ready and traders started taking the trade. 

They still had to deal with the issue of supplies and resources to make the month-long journey across the central area of the continent. For now, only merchants with the right set of skills or teams made the journey. This was similar to the past, when New Freeka was newly set up. The terrain then was unfavorable, many cities were destroyed by the demons too. So, the merchants that travelled from one city to another usually had some skills that allowed the to stretch their supplies a bit longer, or make their journey a little faster on less favourable terrain, or merchants that could boost or enhance their horses and carriages such that they could make it to the next town. 

Once more ‘rest stops’ were built along the route, the trade volumes would naturally increase, as the route itself becomes ‘easier’. A natural evolution of trade.

In fact, a train service from one end to another would also work, and I could naturally instruct beetles to act like long-haul trailers to move goods from one-end to another. 

I mean, they were already a means of transport back in the days of New Freeka, and it was time that I resumed their service. I decided to have Horns start research on dedicated Truckbeetles and Trailerbeetles. It just made sense. Giant Truckbeetles that haul goods across the continent. I just hope they don’t accidentally bang into someone and reverse-isekai them to another world. 

Still, an intercontinental state sponsored beetle-hauling service. Of course, there was a fee! I mean, the Valtrian Order must be financed. Alternatively, the beetles could also act as supply-trucks, to provide food supplies for the merchants on the route. 

“We should price the beetle’s services at a high point. We do not want to outcompete the pioneer batch of merchants.” Kavio quickly suggested. “I’ll summon the merchants guild and we can develop some kind of pricing schedule. As time goes on and the route matures we can bring down the prices. We must still let the pioneer batch make some profits.”

I pondered this for a moment and decided to agree. I wondered whether I should feed the capitalist elements of this world and let them gain power? But then, in this world, merchants do take very real risks with their lives. The protection of beetles like my own is very much an aberration. 

"Master, have you thought of using our network of trees across the continent for trade arbitrage? We could easily make a profit using the price differences between the Freshlands and those faraway kingdoms."

I thought of that for a moment, and decided I did not want to compete with merchants. At least, not at the moment. I am a tree, and at the same time, I am also a singular point in growing government. I see my role as a facilitator and provider of infrastructure that cannot be replicated by individuals. I also am rather skeptical of a government playing the role of businesses, even though the Valtrian Order did run different types of businesses to earn money and support its expenditure.

“No. In the end we are a governing entity, not a business. We’ll just charge fees and taxes.” 

The first thing I needed to do was to set up 3 beetlestops, each one at the borders of the three chosen allied nations. These future truckbeetles would not be able to communicate at all, so I would need the Valtrian Order representatives to record orders and instructions, have them processed... wait.

How would they get orders? The merchants can’t communicate with the beetles.

“Maybe we can have trees that receive messages?” 

I pondered this question for a moment. All these while I’ve been relying on my artificial minds to run my operations, and essentially the beetles can only be ordered by them, or by Horns and the other beetle-generals. They react by spying and observing, or in the days of New Freeka, the beetles moved at regular routes and made scheduled stops, essentially like a bus service. 

I could repeat that, of course. If so, I could set up the beetles to depart on regular schedules and have the merchants work with a timetable. The Valtrian and Freshland representatives merely act as ‘booking’ coordinators and allocate or match empty beetles to the merchants. 

While Kavio handled the discussions with the merchants, I zoomed in on the new planned border towns. Each of the three nations have begun setting up a small expeditionary force, builders, farmers and merchants being the first to make the journey, along with a small military entourage. 

There are beetles, but so far they’ve been hidden in the subsidiary trees. After all, there’s really no reason for them to appear unless the hybrid demons attacked.

At these designated ‘town’ zones, the area I’ve ‘reclaimed’ from the demonic corruption is larger, much larger to allow for some farming activity and buildings, and fortifications, if these nations deemed them necessary. 

I’ve essentially cut the Rottedlands into multiple slices with this long route through the Rottedlands, and it’s only possible because of the weakened demonic energies. 

“There’s potential of using [Root Tunnels] to create a secret smuggling route.” Patrick suggested. 

“We’ll hold that off until necessary.” I responded. “I’m sure some of them have skills to detect tunnels and such.”

On the Freshland’s side, we’re also rapidly building up a new settlement, on the edges of the existing segment. It’s meant to be the launchpad for trade through these new route, and there are some who would take up this challenge and opportunity. 

For now, the first batch of traders mostly bring high value, high-margin goods. That meant jewelry, works-of-art, and artifacts. There’s always an audience for this sort of good, and for the traders who have to travel light and fast, these were the best choices. These batch of traders have a lot on their hands, and part of their journey is sponsored by the merchant guilds of their home cities. It’s an exploratory run, these traders would return with feedback on the difficulty of the journey, the kinds of prices and the demand for various goods, and what else they could buy. 

The Freshlands have a lot of food, so that’s something that we can sell in bulk. We’re like... Fresh Foods. 

-

“Aeon.” A patriarch of the Aeonic Faith spoke privately. It’s close to the end of the year. “A question?”

“Yes?” 

“Some of us have been debating whether we should expand some missions to the new lands as a result of the new trade routes. We asked Kavio about it, but he was not able to give a firm conclusion on whether the trade-agreement included missions of faith. We believe that it is only right that we spread our faith to these new allies, but at the same time, we’re not too sure whether our attempts will be viewed positively.”

Uh. Maybe? “Speak to the merchants?”

“Ah. That’s a good point.” The patriarch nodded and he arranged a meeting with the visiting merchants from the faraway kingdoms. 

I thought back to the older days of my studies? Should I use marriage and royal ‘conversions’ into the faith as a way of expanding my power? I recalled some kingdoms used to marry their nobility and convert other kingdoms to their religions. 

Is that too ‘manipulative’ as a religion? Should I go there?

I paused. It’s not the first of the many tough decisions I have to make. All these decisions are tradeoffs, one way or another. I don’t care for royals, but I cannot deny the influence of inherited abilities, or their powers to sway vast numbers. Having royal assent would make our priests and preachers have an easy job of winning this cultural war.

But at the same time, am I not a hypocrite? I did not care for royals, and yet, should I agree to this whole royal-marriage schtick, it’s essentially giving them a lever of power. 

Hypocrite. 

In some places, maybe I’d be referred to as pragmatic, to make decisions based on what benefits I can derive. If I was human at this time I’d go for a long run, or do some stretches. I instinctively stretched, and it felt like my senses stretched to encompass the entirety of the Freshlands, as overwhelming and confusing as it sounds. It’s like... zooming out of a buzzing city and viewing it from high up, like an airplane. 

I’ve thought long and hard for some time. The issue of meddling with hereditary abilities and skills reeked of genetic engineering, and am I not robbing the young child of choice? Similarly, by pairing up royals for a skill advantage and also to proselytize these royals to my faith felt like an offense against that choice. 

But I have not been consistent either. Certainly I’ve changed my mind. Have I given the Valthorns a choice? Not really, I am aware of the huge ethical quandaries of child weapons. Am I prepared to sin all the way to hell and back, for that chance to find a path to heaven? Is there a middle ground where I can take, that still leads me to that end? 

“Master?” Trevor asked. “We detected a lot of magical activity... from you.”

Ah. I seemed that as I zoomed out, I also drew on the magical energies of the Freshlands. It was a strange feeling, but from this far away, I felt like... maybe I should go ahead with it. Sure, it’s hypocritical...

“No.” That’s wrong. I must have a line I cannot cross. I must. If not I’ll eventually descend into viewing all the lives I sacrificed as nothing more as statistics. I forced myself to correct my earlier train of thought. 

It was a struggle, but I quickly called on my memories of pain. Of destruction. Of Death. My memories of those who died around me. 

Then, memories that I did not recognise started flooding my mind. They were memories of those who lived here, the pain of losing a spouse, a child, a leg, a friend. So many strange new memories. 

It was like that moment when I processed the hex, but more real, more vivid and yet also more nuanced. I could sense strong emotions, fear, anger, helplessness, bitterness, disappointment. It was strong, and from the valley... from Freshka.

“Master, you’ve activated my abilities.” Patreeck said, and I realised that those were the memories of those in Freshka. Their history and past. I saw them flash, and yet it didn’t overwhelm me. It’s just at the right pace, the right amount that I can still take in those feelings. 

It took a while, there were so many memories to go through. The first generation of settlers of the Freshlands had hard lives. Starvation, hunted by monsters, was very normal. It was a pain that still felt raw for many. Even if it was just decades ago.

“Master...” Trevor too intervened. “The populace of Freshka is behaving strangely.” They were in a state of daze, all of them. The sudden ‘mind-draw’ was like a psychic attack. 

“Ah. My bad.” I relaxed and let my psychic hold go. I felt my connection to them disappear. In a way, it wasn’t unusual. 

As a tree in the center of a huge forest of trees that sprawled across the continent, each normal tree is like it’s own brain. It has its own senses, and very rarely, it’s own thoughts. They are often filtered out by my mental firewall, since it’s mostly inane. This felt rather similar, like adding more trees into the network, only these trees have a far more developed thought process and more memories. 

I paused again. I have to walk a middle path, between a tree and man. The tree’s aspect can get too macro, and the aspect of man tends to be emotional and micro. 

But I do wonder... Is this pragmatism? Or a form of enlightened dictatorship enabled by always-on surveillance and an ability to read minds? Maybe to the temples across the ocean, to them, I may well be a hivemind that has the entire Freshlands in thrall.