I Can Give Talents-Chapter 287 – Omitted Truth

"God-goddess... can this mini cloud really communicate with you from that far?" Lapin asked, his voice trembling with awe.

"Hehehe. You're a Celestial Cloud Rabbit—don't you know your own abilities?" the Goddess replied, her tone playful.

"I do... but isn't this too... exaggerated?" Lapin still found it hard to believe. His own range was limited to the planet, after all.

"It's not exaggerated at all. Celestial Cloud Rabbits are the best race in the universe when it comes to long-distance communication. It's not just about the distance—there's no delay at all when communicating using their clouds. Their services are highly sought after by many Divinities. After all, the universe is unfathomably vast. No other abilities or advanced technologies can rival the Celestial Cloud Rabbit's long-distance communication ability... yet," she explained, her voice carrying a hint of pride.

"Kekeke! Is that so? Does that mean when I get stronger later, my clouds can communicate that far as well?" Lapin asked, his excitement bubbling over.

"Of course! Alright then, anything else you want to ask before I leave?" the Goddess said, her tone shifting slightly. She had completed her objective, and there was nothing else for her to do here. If she stayed absent for too long, her enemies might notice and start causing trouble.

"Uhh... goddess, can you eliminate that tree?" Lapin asked, seizing the opportunity. If the tree were gone, he wouldn't need to escape anymore. And if he could rule this planet, his growth would accelerate.

The Goddess of Fertility shook her head. "I don't want to," she said simply, her tone firm.

Lapin felt a pang of disappointment. He knew his request was a tall order, but he had hoped for a miracle.

"I could kill it easily, but I don't want to get directly involved by taking action against it. This Worldpiercer Tree is one of the most annoying invasive species in the universe. If I kill it, the original tree will notice and hold a grudge against me, potentially invading my territories. I don't want that kind of trouble," she explained.

Lapin was dumbfounded. Original tree? There are more? If even a Divinity didn't want to get involved, how terrifying was the original tree? Did that mean any planet invaded by this tree was doomed to ultimate demise? How was that fair?

"Hehehe, but don't worry. The worlds have their own will and will try their best to fight against it. If the tree falls naturally or the galaxy's natives take care of it, the original tree won't care. The original Worldpiercer Tree treats its invasions like a game," the Goddess added, her tone almost casual.

Lapin was still speechless. Destroying a world is just a game? And from the sound of it, this wasn't an isolated incident. Furthermore, it didn't seem like his world had any chance of winning. Perhaps the world's plan to resist had failed long ago.

Lapin smiled wryly. Even if there were beings in his galaxy strong enough to eliminate the Worldpiercer Tree, how could he possibly contact them? And even if he could, why would they help him? It seemed he had no choice but to accept the tragic fate of this planet and move to Anda's world as planned.

"Goddess... are world destructions normal out there?" Lapin asked, his voice tinged with unease.

"Not just world destruction—solar system destruction and galaxy destruction are possible as well. You think it's peaceful out there? You couldn't be more wrong. Intergalactic wars happen all the time. What's happening to your planet is nothing compared to others. At least this is a slow process and potentially preventable," the Goddess explained, her tone matter-of-fact.

"Even galaxies are destroyed?!" Lapin's voice rose in disbelief. The more he heard, the more terrified he became of the universe's vast and chaotic nature. He thought that due to the extreme distance between galaxies such thing wouldn't happen, but it seemed that living beings will always find ways somehow to make it happen.

"Alright, I've answered enough. It's time for me to leave. Don't forget your duty—a gorgeous rabbit lady is waiting for you," the Goddess said, her tone light and teasing.

With a wave of her hand, the portal reappeared. Before stepping through, she turned her head and added, "My apprentice, take care of my garden. Hopefully, we're fated enough to meet again in the future."

With that, she stepped into the void tunnel, and the portal vanished. Whether it was real or not, the plants around the area seemed to stop bowing, their reverence fading as the divine presence departed.

It took Lapin a while to regain his composure after everything that had happened. It felt as though he had lived through a lifetime of revelations in just a short conversation. His understanding of the universe had expanded exponentially, and the weight of it all left him both awestruck and humbled.

He stared at the mini cloud in his palm and smiled. This was his future, and all he needed to do was secretly guard the Goddess's apprentice. Compared to the trials he had endured to survive until now, it didn't seem too difficult.

Oh right! Lilian!

Lapin immediately contacted Anda, informing her that he had found Lilian. Since his role as a secret bodyguard was supposed to remain confidential, he didn't mention it. As for Lilian becoming the Goddess's apprentice, that wasn't his place to reveal.

With that, Lapin controlled the cloud Lilian was resting on, sending it toward Anda's current location. After a week since they departed from the sky island, Anda and Tamina were no longer in the snowy region. They were headed to the nearest city ruin according to the world map.

---

In the endless expanse of the void tunnel, the Goddess of Fertility moved with effortless grace, her presence bending the fabric of reality itself. Unlike Leyvi and the others, who floated helplessly in the weightless abyss, tethered only to the pulling force guiding them toward their destination, she navigated the dimensions as if they were mere extensions of her will. Cracks in the fabric of existence rippled open before her, not by chance, but by her command. Each fissure yielded to her, parting like curtains to reveal the next leg of her journey.

As she traveled, the Goddess sighed, a sound that echoed faintly in the infinite silence. Her encounter with her new apprentice had left her with a gnawing realization: she had become a pawn in a game orchestrated by a power far greater than her own. Perhaps not directly, but subtly enough to steer her actions without her full awareness.

First, her Divine Garden had vanished without a trace. She had scoured the cosmos, only to find it nestled in a distant, young galaxy—a place where such a relic should not have been. There, a girl with no apparent qualifications had somehow claimed it as her own. Then, she found someone who possessed an incredibly difficult core to form, which shouldn't be possible yet in that young galaxy without any careful and detailed guidance and he also had even formed a Dao Heart at such a young age. Coincidentally, he was also the man her apprentice cherished.

Each event was a thread, weaving a pattern too deliberate to be mere chance. Someone—or something—was pulling the strings, and the Goddess could only guess at their intentions. Whoever had orchestrated this had stolen her Divine Garden without leaving a trace, a feat that spoke of power beyond her comprehension. Resisting such a force would be futile, even dangerous. Better to align herself with the current and see where it leads. Perhaps, in time, she would be rewarded for her compliance.

Curious, she had performed a divination on Leyvi, searching for any hint of karmic ties to a higher power. Yet, to her astonishment, there was nothing—no trace, no thread, no shadow of influence. The absence itself was a revelation. It suggested that the hand behind the curtain was not merely powerful but omnipotent, operating in ways that defied even her divine understanding.

Her thoughts turned to Lilian, her new apprentice. The girl's talent was lacking, her potential for reaching Divinity slim at best. Still, the Goddess had done what she could. She had performed a delicate meridian operation, awakening a unique body within Lilian, and left behind a cultivation manual tailored to her newfound abilities. It was a small gesture, a flicker of hope in the vast darkness of uncertainty.

But the Goddess knew the truth: in the later stages of cultivation, manuals and unique constitutions mattered little. What truly determined one's ascent to Divinity was the depth of their comprehension, the clarity of their insight into the Dao. And in that regard, she feared Lilian might fall short.

As the void stretched endlessly around her, the Goddess of Fertility allowed herself a rare moment of vulnerability. She was a being of immense power, yet even she was not immune to the whims of forces greater than herself.

However, her journey to reclaim her Divine Garden had yielded an unexpected boon. In the future, she would have another Celestial Cloud Rabbit serving her—a rare and valuable addition to her retinue.

During her conversation with Lapin, the Goddess had carefully omitted certain truths. While it was true that Celestial Cloud Rabbits were highly sought after for their unparalleled bloodline ability to communicate across vast cosmic distances, their entire race lived under the shadow of slavery.