On the top of the moon, a nightingale pressed her chest against a rose bud, and a pleasant birdsong sounded, and the thorns under the bud pierced little by little.

The wound strangely did not shed a drop of blood, but the flower buds seemed to be a little redder.

Ike slowed down and crept closer. The nightingale seemed to have not noticed, and still sang with its neck high.

Don't dare to stretch out your hand, "Curse and Curse Cracking" does not have any record of this strange magic ritual, and Ike does not know what the consequences of mixing in will be, and it is likely to cause great harm to the poor little guy.

Thankfully, it looks like it will take some time for the buds to bloom, and the nightingale can still be saved.

After about four or five hours under the oak trees, the nightingale's chirping finally seemed to stop. Ike was tired enough for the past few hours, and his hand kept to the trunk of the tree, silently channeling the magic, which more or less eased the oak tree.

At least that's what the Oak tree sent back.

Suddenly, the nightingale stopped abruptly. The little guy sang all night, and after a night of hard work, he almost couldn't catch the trunk of the tree, and he flapped his wings twice in a row to stabilize it.

Ike hurriedly stepped forward and grabbed the nightingale carefully, the little one was obviously frightened, but it was so weak that it struggled a few times before stopping.

"Obediently, I won't hurt you......" Ike slowly spread out his gripping left hand, and opened the cap of the bottle with one hand with his right hand, sending the mouth of the bottle towards Nightingale's head.

"You can feel it...... Well, it's good stuff, drink a little more......"

The nightingale seemed to sense something, perhaps instinctively, thinking that the liquid in the transparent bottle in front of him was good for him. He looked back at Ike with an encouraging look on his face, and it took a moment to stick his head in.

The effect of the white fresh juice was very powerful, and Ike could clearly feel that the nightingale was getting better.

The little guy is not big, only the size of an adult's palm, but after drinking it for a while, he can't drink it. But it was very lively, jumping a few times in Ike's hand, looking up and screaming a few times, exuding ease and joy.

"I'll put this bottle on it......" Ike pointed to a thick branch above the oak tree, "so that when you're done, you can fly up and drink it yourself." ”

The nightingale seemed to understand, flapped her wings and flew up, landing on the branch that Ike had just pointed to.

"That's right, that's right! There it is! Ike put the lid tightly in his pocket, hugged the trunk a few times, climbed up, and took out the rope he had prepared to tie the bottle to it, and then opened the cap.

"I'll replenish the white fresh juice in it, it's definitely enough for you to drink." Ike gently wiped his fingers against the nightingale's head, "Don't worry, you'll be fine." ”

"Oh yes, I'll introduce you to a new friend......" Moving his shoulder, Jimmy rubbed his eyes and crawled out of Ike's collar, apparently woken up.

Startled by Jimmy, Nightingale jumped and hid behind the bottle, tilting her head to look at it.

"It's called Jimmy, and it's going to stay here these days, making sure this bottle doesn't fall off." Ike said, taking Jimmy down.

He wasn't at all worried about Jimmy's relationship with the Nightingale, as the Tree Keeper was a natural guardian of trees, a darling of nature, and they didn't harm the birds that occasionally rested on the trees, except for the bugs that hurt the trees.

Moreover, the nightingale in front of him can no longer be regarded as an ordinary bird, it already has some magical properties.

Maybe when the red rose is in full bloom, it will turn into a magical animal.

Sure enough, after a while, Jimmy and Nightingale seemed to be good friends, and the two little ones were bouncing around beside the bottle, very happy.

Secretly relieved, Ike quietly climbed down the tree. After tossing around outside for almost a night, I was really tired.

Straight back to the room, the whole person lay on the bed, fell asleep after a while, and when he woke up again, it was almost noon.

With a big yawn, Ike rubbed his eyes and walked out, still a little dazed when he was done washing.

It was a feeling he was familiar with, a reaction to too much mana.

It's not easy to replenish the magic power of the oak tree, it's just a nascent magic plant, and the mana is very poorly guided, and it's good to be left with two points for ten points of mana.

That's where Ike comes in.

Not only does he have to keep the mana in, but he also has to guide those who have not been absorbed by the oak tree not to escape, but to continue to cling to the trunk. Although it is not difficult to do this with Ike's current magic control, it will not last long.

After eating lunch in a daze, Ike relieved. Ignoring those enthusiastic little beans, he quietly slipped back to the room and continued to sleep.

It's going to go on in the evening.

In this way, Ike ate and slept during the day, supplemented the magic of the oak tree guide at night, and played with Jimmy and the nightingale by the way, and it was a boring and fulfilling week before finally waiting for the red rose to bloom.

It was a full moon night, and when the nightingale's watered buds finally bloomed, wisps of reddish light fell on the petals. The light was like a mist, and it lingered on the petals for a long time before slowly melting in.

The nightingale sang loudly, and did not die as it had done under the rescue of the white fresh juice, but flapped its wings and danced a strange dance around the red rose.

Sometimes hovering, sometimes pulling up, sometimes diving, and even belly up a few times. With the song, a lot of white mist appeared on the red rose, slowly enveloping the nightingale.

It was obviously a good thing, and the nightingale was even more cheerful, and even Jimmy leaned over and quietly sucked some.

The white mist slowly disappeared, and the feathers on the nightingale slowly changed color. The gray and white feathers gradually fade to gray, leaving only a dazzling white, which looks very beautiful.

A wisp of bright red feathers suddenly sprang out from the top of his head, like a dull feather, moving with the flying of the nightingale, which was very cute.

Stretching out his hand, the nightingale fell directly, his head rubbing against his fingers, very close.

Ike was taken aback, he clearly felt that there was a lot of magic in the nightingale's body, and sure enough, as he expected, the nightingale became a magical animal.

It confirmed his conjecture.

The birth of the red rose was both a crisis and an opportunity for the nightingale. Under various coincidences, it condensed the red rose with its singing voice and painstaking efforts.

If you can't hold on, there will only be death; But if it survives, the red rose will also give the nightingale a gift.

This may be the first nightingale ever to survive, after all, the birth of this red rose is very rare, and even fewer can be witnessed. Even if it was discovered, it was by chance, and the nightingale at that time was often on the verge of death, and there were countless returns.

Moreover, with the arrogance of wizards, the nightingale may be just a "sacrifice" in their eyes.

"Alright, alright, little one......" Ike soothed the nightingale, slowly put it on his shoulder, and took Jimmy from the tree to accompany him, before carefully plucking the red rose and placing it in the box that had been prepared long ago.

Ike has found a place for it, and tomorrow I'll call Stewart to borrow his owl.

Leaving school, in addition to not being able to use magic, this is a bit troublesome.