“I-I’m the host of The Great Tree?” Elfina stammered, her voice a mix of disbelief and awe as she stared at the projection on her palm.

  Before she could get lost in her thoughts, I pinched her cheeks again. They were soft and squishy, like mochi cake — irresistibly fun to pinch.

  “Sta-a-p!” she protested, flailing her hands wildly in an attempt to swat my hand away.

  “You can think about it later,” I said, letting go of her cheeks. “Right now, we need to get out of here.”

  I glanced around, my expression darkening.

  Everything around us had turned crimson. The golden glow that once filled the space was gone, and even the intricate formation on the dome had vanished without a trace.

  Elfina took one last look at the sanctuary's core, biting her lip as she gripped her staff lightly. With a resolute nod, she stood up.

  “Carry this for me, please.” She handed me her staff, then bent down to retrieve the clay bowl containing the World Tree’s body seed. Holding the bowl tightly to her chest, she turned and sprinted toward the entrance.

  As she dashed ahead, I paused for a moment, remembering the glint of light at the top of the dome. Reaching down, I grabbed a piece of tree bark, infused it with Blue Dragon, and hurled it upward.

  The light shattered, and the Recording Crystal I had planted earlier tumbled to the ground.

  I retrieved the crystal, storing it in my inventory, but as I stared at my now-empty hand, I opened and closed my fingers repeatedly.

  If I hadn’t caught myself earlier, I might have aimed for her throat instead of her cheek. I thought I had full control over my hatred and murderous impulses.

  “Karl!” Elfina’s voice rang out, pulling me from my thoughts. She stood at the entrance, calling for me to follow.

  “Alright, alright, I’m coming,” I replied, shaking off the unsettling thoughts as I ran after her.

  We descended the stairs in no time.

  Once outside, Elfina stopped abruptly and turned back. She gasped, covering her mouth with one hand as tears began to stream down her face.

  I followed her gaze.

  The World Tree, once a magnificent golden beacon, was now nothing more than a crimson pillar. Its form flickered and burned away, disintegrating until not even ashes remained.

  “No,” Elfina said, lightly tapping her cheeks as if to steady herself. “We completed the ritual. In time, The Great Tree will return.”

  “Elfina!” Zenth’s voice rang out as he ran toward her.

  “Dad!” Elfina exclaimed, her voice filled with relief as her father embraced her tightly, his arms wrapping around her like a shield.

  “Thank the Guardians you’re okay,” he said, voice trembling.

  “How did the ritual go? Did you succeed?” Thnari asked, stepping closer. His question silenced the Elves around us. All of them turned their attention to their priestess, their expressions a mixture of hope and worry.

  Elfina gently pushed her father back and raised the clay bowl to eye level.

  “Yes,” she said with a firm nod. “The ritual was a success.”

  As she spoke, a faint golden glow flickered in the soil within the bowl. The sight of the light sparked a wave of relief and joy, and the Elves erupted into cheers.

  “Though, there was a… Eeee!” Elfina squealed as I secretly pinched her muffin top before she could finish her sentence.

  The truth about her role as the World Tree’s host had to remain a secret. If the mastermind behind this attack were watching, revealing her status would only paint a massive target on her back. Only a select few could be trusted with that knowledge.

  Thnari caught my subtle action and raised an eyebrow. I gave him a brief nod, and his expression shifted to one of understanding before he returned to his usual calm demeanor.

  “It’s good to know that both you and the Great Tree are safe,” he said, tactfully choosing not to press for further details.

  “What’s the situation with the barrier? Any casualties?” I asked.

  The new crack in the frozen tsunami must have unleashed countless Fiend Forgers and Abyss Crawlers. Given the barrier’s immense size, I wouldn’t have been surprised if many Elves had already lost their lives.

  “Well, about that…” Thnari’s face twisted into an awkward expression, a reaction that stood out against his usual composed demeanor.

  I narrowed my eyes. Curious. “What happened?”

  “It’s better if you see for yourself,” he replied, gesturing for us to follow him.

  *****

  Before us stretched a sea of monstrosities, waves upon waves of crimson and black horrors merging into a macabre, living mass.

  The Fiend Forgers stood at the forefront — humans, Elves, Dwarves, Beastkin, and countless other creatures infected by Parasitic Demonic Qi, their forms twisted into unrecognizable abominations, much like the scholar. These beings, too, had long since lost their minds.

  Their bodies were a testament to their torment.

  The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

  Bloated and ruptured limbs revealed raw muscle and shattered bone beneath tattered remnants of skin that barely clung to their grotesque forms. Distortions were the norm. Some had enormous, oversized hands or legs, while others were swollen to monstrous proportions, their limbs unnervingly disproportionate to their massive torsos. Nails had morphed into razor-sharp claws, resembling those of beasts.

  The most haunting detail, however, was their weeping.

  Though their twisted minds could no longer comprehend the agony their bodies endured, tears still streamed down their misshapen faces.

  But what set off alarms in my mind was the fact that they had survived within the frozen tsunami for who knew how long.

  I had thought my method for purging Parasitic Demonic Qi was effective. It was capable of eliminating small, pinky-sized concentrations of Qi. So I thought it was a success.

  Yet the survival of these creatures proved otherwise. My process was inadequate. I would have to revisit and improve it.

  My gaze shifted to the darker half of the corrupted waves — the Abyss Crawlers.

  Strangely, they appeared almost… normal in comparison.

  Shadowy figures with glowing milky-white eyes, their irises swirling like ghostly vortexes, shuffled across the frozen land. They dragged their tired limbs, moving sluggishly.

  Their forms were as varied as they get. Some resembled humans — men, women, children, the young, the old — while others mimicked ordinary animals. Dogs, cats, elephants, squirrels, monkeys, and countless other creatures moved among them, their shadowy outlines flickering faintly as if not fully grounded in this reality.

  When they attacked, their movements were clumsy and erratic, as though they had no understanding of magic or martial arts. They charged mindlessly at anything that wasn’t a Fiend Forger or one of their own, their aggression blind and uncoordinated.

  This became painfully clear when they swarmed toward Hilda like moths drawn to a flame, ignoring us entirely despite us being the easier targets. Their focus was singular, their instincts primal and relentless.

  There was a sea of them. Individually, they were weak — pathetically so. Yet, for some inexplicable reason, just looking at them irritated me to no end.

  It was like the feeling I got when I opened the fridge but forgot why — something important had slipped out of my mind, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t recall what.

  Maybe it was just me, though, because Hilda seemed completely unbothered.

  She was busy showing off their weakness by carving through the black sea like it was nothing.

  “Hahahaha!” she laughed uproariously, her voice booming as if she were having the time of her life.

  Each of her movements conjured massive flaming swords, each blade as big as a bus. The fiery weapons cleaved through both Fiend Forgers and Abyss Crawlers alike, incinerating them with ease.

  One sword became two, and then two became three. The trio of flaming blades danced through the battlefield alongside Hilda, cutting and melting everything in their path as she weaved effortlessly through the horde.

  The terrain worked to her advantage, too. The crack in the barrier had created a natural chokepoint, forcing the seemingly endless number of Abyss Crawlers to funnel into a narrow spot.

  No, this wasn’t a battle. It was a massacre. A one-sided slaughter.

  I exhaled a long sigh of relief. Choosing not to fight Aria and Hilda had been one of the smartest decisions I’d made in this life.

  At least, that’s what I thought. Until I noticed something unsettling.

  The Abyss Crawlers’ numbers weren’t diminishing.

  No matter how many Hilda cut down, they just kept coming, marching forward like mindless machines with a singular purpose. To destroy every living thing in their path.

  And then I noticed something even worse.

  Each Abyss Crawler regenerated back to its original state, no matter how many pieces they were cut into. Severed limbs reattached. Burned bodies restored themselves. Even those completely obliterated seemed to reform within a minute at most. It wasn't until they couldn't regenerate anymore that they disappeared in a puff of smoke.

  Weak, slow, mindless... but effectively close to immortal. Still killable, though.

  But that wasn’t a good sign.

  “Dame Hilda is single-handedly keeping the Fiend Forgers and Abyss Crawlers from reaching us. Thanks to her, there haven’t been any casualties. Yet,” Thnari explained as we watched the battlefield from a safe distance.

  “But she won’t be able to hold them off forever,” I added. “Do you have a plan?”

  “Yes,” he said with a firm nod. “Follow me.”

  He led me toward an igloo near the battlefield. From the outside, it looked unremarkable, blending in seamlessly with the surrounding snow and ice. But once inside, the difference was stark.

  The single room within housed a round table at its center, around which Zenth, Elfina, Sera, Ragnar, Aria, and the Elf elders were already seated. The atmosphere was tense, the weight of the situation evident in their expressions. Only two chairs remained unoccupied — one among the elders and one designated for guests.

  “We will now explain our plan to protect the village,” Thnari began, choosing to remain standing as he addressed the group.

  “As you’ve seen, The Great Barrier has cracked, and the Abyss Crawlers are advancing. The only way to protect the village is to repair the barrier.”

  The gravity of his words settled heavily over the room, drawing a collective silence. The objective was clear. Fix the barrier before the Abyss Crawlers overwhelmed us.

  “And the plan is?” I prompted, breaking the silence.

  Thnari exchanged a glance with Ragnar and Aria. Both nodded in unison before Ragnar spoke up.

  “Whenever we venture beyond The Great Barrier, we use a special relic to bypass the Abyss Crawlers. However, it can only shield three people at a time.”

  “Then why bring the whole group if only three people can use it?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

  “Because if something happens to those three, we need others to locate the relic and retrieve it. Additionally, any relics we recover must be preserved immediately to prevent further damage,” Ragnar explained, his tone calm but firm.

  “I take it that you can’t replicate the relic?” I pointed out.

  “That’s correct,” Ragnar confirmed with a nod.

  “So, the plan involves something beyond the barrier,” I said, my eyes shifting toward Sera, Elfina, and Aria. “And somehow, it involves us.”

  “You’re sharp and quick on the uptake,” Thnari said with a faint smile. He turned to Aria. “Would you like to explain, or shall I?”

  “Thank you for the offer, sir,” Aria replied, shaking her head. “Since my team was the one that discovered the trace, it’s my responsibility to share the information.”

  “Very well. Please, go ahead,” Thnari sat down.

  Aria glanced around the room, her gaze steady. She took a deep breath and began to speak.

  “When this expedition was organized, it wasn’t just for NorthStar to establish trade with the Frost Elf. It was also because of a request from the Frost Elf — one that we might finally have a chance to fulfill this time.”

  She paused, drawing another breath, her expression serious.

  “To find their missing Guardian.”

  The elders seated beside Thnari and Zenth stirred at her words, breaking into hushed murmurs. Their expressions shifted, lighting up with cautious excitement. Across the table, Elfina’s eyes widened in surprise as she turned to her father, silently seeking confirmation.

  “What do you mean by that?” Sera asked, her voice cutting through the low chatter.

  “There’s a legend,” Aria continued, her tone steady as she shared information few seemed to know. “When Eldoria was created, five Guardians were born to protect the world. But in truth, they weren’t born to protect the world itself — they were born to protect the World Trees, which, in turn, maintain the world’s Harmony.”

  That was an incredible piece of information.

  If what she said was true, there were five World Trees, each with its own Guardian. The obvious question followed. What had happened to the Frost Elf’s World Tree’s Guardian?

  As if answering my unspoken thought, Thnari picked up where Aria left off. “After the Great War, our Guardian took on the monumental task of creating The Great Barrier. To accomplish this, he ventured beyond the barrier. And was never seen again.”

  “Until now,” Ragnar interjected.

  He glanced around the room, his gaze resting briefly on each of us before delivering the revelation of a lifetime.

  “On our last expedition, we found a trace of their Guardian.”