“Elder Kuva, gather half of our warriors into formation and prepare for combat. Go to The Great Barrier and protect our village. If there’s any unexpected situation, report back to me immediately!” Thnari barked out orders with the urgency of a man preparing for war.

  “The rest, come with me to The Great Tree.”

  “YES, ELDER!” The Elves moved swiftly as if they had trained for this exact moment all their lives.

  Thnari and Zenth ran alongside me, our steps pounding against the frozen ground as we raced toward their World Tree. My breath came in short bursts as I asked the question weighing on my mind.

  “What happened? Do you know what’s going on?”

  The two exchanged grim looks before Thnari answered, his tone heavy.

  “It’s as we feared. The Great Tree could no longer hold back the crimson fog. It’s spreading.”

  His eyes darted toward the towering World Tree, now ablaze with an unnatural crimson, then shifted to the crack that had appeared on The Great Barrier.

  “May the Guardians have mercy on us all.”

  “…Isn’t it too soon to give up?” I clenched my fists, holding back harsher words.

  “We are Frost Elf elders, Karl,” Zenth said, his voice calm but resolute. “We have two sacred duties: to protect The Great Tree and to protect our people. But…”

  His voice faltered slightly before hardening. “To me, our people come first.”

  I turned to Thnari, his silence spoke volumes.

  They had made their choice. The lives of their people over the life of their tree — a decision that went against everything the Elf was meant to stand for.

  I smiled faintly, the bitter kind that carried the weight of too much experience.

  Something never changes, no matter what world.

  “We haven’t crossed that bridge yet,” I said, then pushed myself to run faster.

  When we reached the base of the enormous stairs, a collective gasp erupted from the Elves around us.

  The sight before us was worse than I had imagined.

  The World Tree, once majestic and full of life, now burned with the malevolent crimson of Parasitic Demonic Qi. Its leaves had withered into nothing but ash, and its bark fell away in chunks, crumbling like brittle paper to the ground below. The tree looked as if it were engulfed in a living inferno — a fire that consumed not just wood but the essence of life itself.

  All the Frost Elves present wore expressions of rage or bitterness, their emotions etched deeply into their faces. Not a single one was untouched by the sight.

  “We were too late,” one of the Elves muttered.

  No, we weren’t too late. There was still a chance. We had arrived too late to preserve the tree as it once was, but not too late to salvage what remained.

  “How does a World Tree reproduce?” I turned sharply and asked.

  “What?” Thnari, Zenth, and every Elf who heard me looked at me like I had lost my mind. Their confusion was palpable, their stares accusing me of madness.

  “If you want to save your World Tree, tell me how it reproduces,” I shouted, my patience wearing thin.

  This was a tree sustained by faith itself. Surely, its reproduction process was as unique as its nature — one that didn’t rely on mere fruits and seeds.

  “When a World Tree nears the end of its life, it grants the priestess of the Elven race that worships it a sapling, condensed from its remaining power. That sapling will become a new World Tree,” Zenth explained rapidly.

  I nodded in understanding and turned to Thnari. From the look on his face, I could see he grasped the direction I was taking.

  “My kin!” Thnari’s voice roared, carrying over the growing tension, commanding attention from every Frost Elf present.

  “The great tree faces the greatest danger it has ever known. Our best hope now is to help The Great Tree condense a new sapling and leave behind its old self. DO YOU HEAR ME?”

  “Elder, we can’t abandon The Great Tree like this. Without it, we have no home!” a man protested, his voice trembling.

  “That’s right, Elder! And what if the great tree can’t produce a sapling in this state? Does it even have enough blessings left to do so?” a woman added, her words striking a chord with several others.

  More voices joined, speaking their opinions — some in support of Thnari, others hesitant, unwilling to let go.

  “Do any of you have a better idea?” Thnari bellowed, his roar silencing every protest and quashing the murmurs of doubt.

  A man turned to me and asked, “Young friend, you were the one who removed the crimson fog from us and came up with a way to dispel it from The Great Tree. What do you think we should do?”

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  At his words, all eyes fell on me.

  Seriously, though, we didn’t have time for this shit. I made sure to make that abundantly clear.

  “We don’t have time for this shit,” I snapped, my scowl making some of them drop their jaws. “Either stand here and watch your World Tree die, or try to condense a sapling for even a slim chance of saving it. Choose.”

  “But…” the man began, his voice faltering.

  “Choose.” I mimicked Thnari’s commanding tone.

  Many of them still hesitated. Until a woman shouted, “I want to save The Great Tree!” Her words were like a spark igniting a flame. One by one, others echoed her sentiment, their collective voices declaring their intent.

  “Good,” I nodded. “Elder Zenth, how can we help the World Tree condense a sapling?”

  “We need Elfina,” Zenth explained quickly. “She must perform the ritual by praying inside the sanctuary's core while we offer our own prayers from outside. But with The Great Tree covered in fog, anyone who gets too close will die.”

  His explanation jogged my memory of the bonfire scene earlier, where their singing had caused the World Tree’s leaves to float and glow. That might have been a form of prayer in tune with Harmony.

  I glanced toward the sanctuary's core at the top of the giant stairway. The Parasitic Demonic Qi had formed a dense gate, barring entry.

  That wasn’t something mindless Qi should be capable of doing. Someone was inside.

  Then it hit me. I still hadn’t retrieved the Recording Crystal I left in the sanctuary. If Aaron or that scholar had done something reckless… Oh... They already had.

  “Here’s the plan,” I said loudly, pointing at the sanctuary’s core. “I’ll head in there and clear out the fog, preventing it from harming anyone else. Meanwhile, all of you will fetch Elfina and set up the ritual so we can start as soon as I finish.”

  I paused, making my next point crystal clear.

  “Do not. I repeat, DO NOT, let anyone enter the sanctuary’s core until I say so.”

  “That’s insa...” Zenth said, but he stopped mid-sentence when he met my eyes.

  “I’m the only one who can do it,” I said firmly, leaving no room for argument.

  “…We’re counting on you, friend.” Thnari stepped forward and placed a hand on my shoulder, giving it two firm taps before turning to the others.

  “Zenth, go get your daughter.”

  Zenth hesitated, his expression conflicted, before surprising me with a brief, tight hug. He stepped back, his voice unsteady with emotion as he said.

  “Don’t die, son-in-law.”

  “What?” I blurted out, stunned by his choice of words. But before I could demand an explanation, he was already hurrying away.

  There was no time to dwell on that, so I tossed the comment to the back of my mind and focused. My priority was to clear enough of the Parasitic Demonic Qi for the ritual to proceed. And do it fast.

  As I sprinted up the stairs, a booming noise echoed across the square, silencing the chaotic clamor below.

  A bad feeling gnawed at my gut as I glanced toward The Great Barrier. Sure enough, another massive crack had appeared on the frozen tsunami. From the widening fracture, black dots spilled out, falling to the ground. They writhed briefly before rising, dragging themselves toward the Frost Elf's and a few of the expedition members' hastily assembled defense line.

  My gaze shifted to the opposite side, where chaos reigned. Some members of the expedition stayed to fight alongside the Elf, but others fled, abandoning the battlefield in favor of their own survival.

  I didn’t blame them. It was a choice I’d seen made countless times before when they put saving strangers and saving yourself on a scale.

  When I reached the crimson gate, the Parasitic Demonic Qi roared in delight, shooting tendrils toward me.

  “Meager thing.” I activated [Plundering Qi], grabbing the tendrils and devouring them with full force. This was a perfect opportunity to test how much Qi my core could handle before it reached its limit.

  To my surprise, my core wasn’t even close to full after I absorbed the entire gate. A thought struck me suddenly.

  If my core can hold this much Qi, how the hell did it get drained so quickly when I fought that Bearowl?

  The answer came sooner than expected.

  As I used White Tiger to dodge a fireball hurled at me, I felt the familiar sensation of Qi spilling from my core. That was it. My core had an impressive capacity, but the leakage caused by Void Heart whenever I used martial arts was staggering.

  Under normal conditions, it only leaked a drop of Qi every second. But when I used martial techniques, it gushed out like scooping up buckets of water inside a flooded bathroom then threw it all out the window.

  Hardship stacking on hardship, eh?

  No wonder the previous Karl died while crafting the Recording Crystal. The sheer Mana expenditure must have been overwhelming. He didn’t have my technique for reducing the leakage or my cheat ability to refill Qi quickly.

  I clicked my tongue, frustrated at the cruel fate that had been forced upon him. For such a kind young man to meet such an end.

  It was fucking ridiculous.

  But there was no time to dwell on it. I shifted my focus to the source of the fireball.

  Standing before me was the haggard scholar, but he didn’t look like the man I’d seen earlier.

  Crimson Qi wrapped around him like a malevolent shroud, and his eyes glowed blood red. His body was grotesquely warped, a stark contrast to the Bearowl I’d faced before. The Bearowl, at least, had a strong enough body to handle the small amount of Demonic Qi within it.

  This man, however, didn’t.

  Without a suitable host body, the Demonic Qi had invaded his life force, breaking it down and reshaping it into something more fitting for its purpose. The result was a twisted, corrupted form. A mockery of the man he once was.

  Thus stood the man before me, his flesh grotesquely swollen and distorted beyond recognition.

  His bald head was webbed with throbbing black veins, each pulsing at a different rhythm, as if a chaotic orchestra played beneath his skin. Cracks formed across his body, revealing spasming muscles beneath. Blood seeped from ruptured veins, dark red streaks coating his warped figure. Jagged bones jutted out from his flesh, only to stab back into his body, reconnecting in a grotesque mockery of their natural form. His nose, nails, and toenails had rotted and fallen away, leaving gaping, raw patches. Saliva oozed uncontrollably from his mouth, making him look like a rabid animal.

  His right hand was still outstretched after conjuring the fireball he had hurled at me earlier. His left hand clutched tightly at the tattered remains of his cloak. From the gaps between his bloodied fingers, I caught a glimpse of that same embroidered lily flower.

  His empty and lost eyes searched me over, moving from head to toe.

  At first, his expression wavered, a flicker of recognition sparking within the chaos of his shattered mind. For a moment, I thought he might regain his reasoning, transforming into a far more dangerous foe.

  But he didn’t.

  Instead, he screamed, his shrill voice cracked. It was the wail of a man broken beyond repair.

  “It’s you,” he shrieked, his tone laced with blame and desperation. “It’s your fault. This was supposed to be just a scouting mission. But he forced me to do this.”

  His massive, misshapen right hand, now grotesquely swollen to the size of a dining table, swung downward in a blind, chaotic smash, shaking the ground beneath us.

  “If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t have gotten that order. I wouldn’t have been forced into this!” he cried, his voice rising to a maddening pitch. “My home, my wife, my daughter…”

  Each word he screamed carried more anguish, his tone spiraling into a crescendo of fury and despair. He turned toward me, his hollow eyes filled with searing hatred, and charged.

  Conjuring another fireball — this one as massive as his grotesque hand — he hurled it toward me with all the rage and madness of a man consumed by despair.

  “IT’S ALL YOUR FAULT!”

  Despite his outburst, my attention was on the System’s message.