Dago watched the absurd farce of "offerings" from the back row with cold eyes, impatience building in his gaze.
"Obtaining selection eligibility requires groveling before a rotten piece of wood like a dog?"
He asked coldly within his Mental Space.
"Most ancient wizard schools had this sort of perverse selection mechanism."
Alazan's consciousness came calmly. "Its original purpose was to wear down the trial-takers' pride and make them understand that inherited knowledge came at a price. You'll get used to it."
"I didn't prepare any stupid local specialties."
Dago watched a Second-Ring Wizard ahead of him stammer through a clumsy joke for the treant, only to somehow obtain passage.
This old bark's standards were completely illogical. "What do you suggest?"
"You can directly smash it with high-purity Magic Stones."
Alazan suggested, "The longer a magical creature lives, the more greed for pure energy is etched into its bones."
Dago cut off the mental connection and said nothing more.
As time passed, only five lucky people among the twenty trial-takers successfully took their places on the right.
Two had offered food that suited its tastes, one had told a joke, and one had used the Wind Blade Technique to scrape off decades' worth of stubborn dead bark from the treant's back.
Most astounding of all was the blue-robed witch—
Before everyone, she directly tore off her robe and displayed her still-full, fair body to the ancient tree. Though no longer young, she miraculously gained entry as well.
When Dago alone remained standing where he was, every gaze fell upon him.
"Alright, the last little bug."
Having devoured a great deal of "sincerity" in succession, Tataka was even more arrogant and swollen with self-importance than before.
It looked down on Dago from above, several bent branches digging wantonly into its pitch-black ear