Maple Syrup grew increasingly impatient as she baked cookies.
BS Rita, sitting beside her and working on her history assignnts, always wore a serious expression. Every ti she wrote in the notebook called World Sigh, a quiet weight settled over her.
They traveled constantly. Maple Syrup’s daily cookie output gradually reached thirty million. It seed like each day they were changing more, yet at the sa ti, nothing was truly changing at all.
The only constant might have been the soul fire burning steadily between their brows.
Even so, Maple Syrup still occasionally asked BS Rita whether all this had any aning.
At first, Rita could answer. Over ti, her replies dwindled into silence.
Maple Syrup seed to believe that an Adjudicator should be able to turn the tide, find a way to save all of Starsea, and not be engaged in what she called "small-scale tinkering." She didn’t understand where Rita’s confidence ca from.
It wasn’t just Maple Syrup who felt this way. Mistblade, Smoke Tune, and Crab all asked from ti to ti: had she found a better solution today?
No.
No.
Nothing!
Shortly after finishing the World Sigh for Marmang, Rita passed by Black Spring.
It was a world both strange and familiar.
If Marmang had been a sea searching endlessly for another sea, Black Spring was a gathering of bears in the Ashveil world’s ocean, seeking other bears.
When the spring bears realized there were so many kinds of bears in the universe, they were astonished.
They didn’t understand why the leader wanted to invade another world, but the chance to et other bears and, if victorious, bring them back to Black Spring to enrich the local bear population was welcod.
There was one point, however, that caused trouble later for the spring bears.
Spring Bears, Sumr Bears, Autumn Deer, Winter Bears, Earth Bears, Bichons... Black Spring gradually beca richer in bear species.
The universe’s bears slowly converged on Black Spring.
No one could have guessed that the Autumn Deer from the Dummy world would be so formidable.
Later, they learned that even before Dummy was destroyed, an oak-owl had occasionally entered that world to take Autumn Deer. And when Dummy rged into Black Spring, the practice didn’t end.
Perhaps because of such a fearso hunter, every Autumn Deer trained endlessly, day and night. By the ti the owl finally stopped, they had grown formidable.
The fully darkened, tenfold stronger Autumn Deer began to hold increasing influence in Black Spring. Were it not for Loath, the most powerful spring bear, Autumn Deer might have completely dominated Black Spring.
Honestly, having Autumn Deer in charge of Black Spring wasn’t a bad thing. Every bear species wanted Autumn Deer nearby.
They were the best honey makers, with round ears and calm temperants in daily life. Unlike other bears with pungent slls, under the sun, they exuded the scent of autumn.
This wasn’t just a taphor—it was real.
Autumn Deer were called so because their presence brought the most comfortable climate to a region: gentle rain, soft breezes, not too hot or cold.
Unfortunately, once the oak-owl finally stopped its interference, most Autumn Deer settled into a life of comfort.
During peaceti in Black Spring, Autumn Deer never stayed long in one place. They were always chasing bees. Wherever their bees flew, the Autumn Deer followed.
When a region’s bloom ended, they would leave with the bees, carrying honey jars atop their heads.
Loath always claid that the blue spring bears were the most beautiful in Black Spring, but sohow, the Autumn Deer always seed more authentic.
Looking at the brown Autumn Deer for long stretches and then at the blue spring bears, sothing always felt off.
Autumn Deer truly produced the best honey in the world. I had tasted many batches from different Autumn Deer, but I heard that Mud Bears’ honey-making was the finest of all. To taste this legendary honey, I once lived for a while with the Autumn Deer nad Mud Bears.
It was always busy, and its honey was not for sale. It only allowed the honey-coated spiral spoons used in production to be sold to . To get those spoons, I had to follow it while it chased bees.
The honey it produced was far superior to any I had tasted, but I never saw Mud Bears eat any of it. Silently, it sealed jar after jar.
A few little cookies followed it around, taken from other Autumn Deer, the only ones allowed to taste the honey freely.
Mud Bears even prepared bowls of honey for these cookies to bathe in.
It was so extravagant that watching it made other bears’ eyes bleed!
I never imagined I’d envy a few cookies.
By the ti I left, Mud Bears had made over three million jars of honey, all carefully stored as ga-space items.
"Why do you store so much honey?" I asked.
"Oh, I’m saving it for the little bears."
"Those cookies?"
"Yes. It’s a welco-ho gift for them. Once I bring them all back, this will be the celebration."
When it spoke of this dream, it did so cautiously but solemnly. Even I, often scolded by Loath for not knowing how to speak, understood: at that mont, nothing I said—no offers of help—could matter. This was Mud Bears’ lifelong pursuit.
From then on, I occasionally bought its honey spoons.
Its production only grew. By the ti the Bell rang, it had produced over nine million jars of honey.
After Divine Instruction ended, Loath and I were eliminated and returned first. Before we could consider what to do for the next Bell, Tingo initiated the final descent. Tingo JE and Tingo Autumn Deer appeared above Black Spring.
It was a battle destined for loss.
Even if Black Spring were shattered and upgraded, Tingo could only accommodate one-third of its current population. This ant massive casualties were unavoidable.
Soon after, Mud Bears returned.
It had realized a Divine talent word, yet it couldn’t change Black Spring’s fate.
Loath faced Autumn Deer, Mud Bears faced JE. I sat with the minor leaders, soldier to soldier, all observing the proper order.
At the mont Black Spring shattered, I wanted to ask Loath and Mud Bears whether we were doing the sa as Unordered Starsea: if only part could survive, let the players fight among themselves for survival.
But I couldn’t bring myself to ask. The words turned into a single question on my lips:
"I heard Tingo is all desert... where will the Autumn Deer go to chase bees next?"
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