Chapter 249: Deep Underneath, the Strangeness of "Mother"

At the heart of Lyaheim, the World Tree, a magical eagle—smaller by several degrees than the great eagle Angora—carried a group of elves toward the crown of the tree.

The eagle alighted upon the canopy platform, and the elves dismounted. They were the elven guard captain and his squad, their expressions grave as they made their way toward the "Eden Plains," the sole seat of authority within Lyaheim, nestled atop the World Tree.

The "Eden Plains" courtyard was the place where the elves of Lyaheim could dwell closest to the source of the World Tree. It was the only administrative center in this peaceful, conflict-free elven capital.

Though elves possessed no such human distinctions as nobility or commoners, they still required a supreme governing body, provided they had not yet reached a level of spiritual enlightenment or become part of a "hive mind" species.

The courtyard at the center of the crown was just such a place, a natural, miniature landscape spontaneously shaped by the branches of the World Tree.

The boughs shifted their forms, interlocking to create crags and stones. The World Tree’s unique ability allowed it to alter its own woody limbs, enabling them to mimic the appearance of earth and rock while retaining the vitality of living plants.

At the center of the canopy lay a passage leading into the heart of the World Tree—a secret known only to a few. The courtyard existed, in truth, to serve this passage.

Thus, the "Eden Plains" appeared more like a valley. At its lowest point, a path stretched toward the entrance into the tree’s interior, adorned with low-lying, beautiful flora and stone.

Treehouses were scattered throughout, connected by paths of stones of varying sizes, all circling a central domed structure built of white brick. This was the meeting place of the elven elders; while it seemed at first glance to clash with the surroundings, it blended seamlessly upon closer inspection.

Spring water, flowing from the branches of the World Tree, cascaded through this "valley" from high to low. The Fountain of Life, with its healing and purifying properties, suffused the courtyard with a rich, misty vitality.

The guard captain and his squad arrived at the entrance to the courtyard, where several elves clad in pale silver armor stood watch.

These silver-armored sentinels did not carry the short bows or curved blades typical of elven rangers; instead, they bore heavy two-handed greatswords and longbows with arms as wide as a man’s span.

Their strength was uniformly that of Great Knights, and one among them, an elf with aged features and over a millennium of years, possessed the power of a Legend. His strength was well-contained, like an arrow with a rounded tip—potent, yet devoid of sharp, outward aggression.

"Captain of the Guard, Thorin. I have already informed the elders of the situation through the World Tree and have received permission to enter the 'Eden Plains.' Pray, let us pass."

Captain Thorin stated his purpose to the silver-armored elves, whose strength far exceeded his own.

The sentinels nodded slightly without a word. At that moment, the ground trembled. Beside the guards stood several massive, thick trees; one of them stirred, its root-formed legs breaking through the earth as it stood upright.

A vast aura of vitality swept outward, so tangible it left the captain feeling momentarily breathless.

These surrounding giants were, in fact, ancient War Trees. Having reached the pinnacle of treant-kind, they had undergone a transformation under the influence of the World Tree, breaking the limits of their race. These War Trees were of Legendary rank, the true guardians of the World Tree.

Fortunately, these Legendary treants retained their innate gentleness; the tree had risen only to confirm that the captain had been granted passage.

Chanting a secret language of nature, Thorin released a phantom oak leaf glowing with green light. It drifted toward the massive body of the War Tree, pressed against it, and merged within.

"Boom, boom, boom..."

Though the leaf was minuscule to the War Tree, it sensed the intent within. A massive wooden arm gestured in a low rumble, signaling that Captain Thorin was cleared to enter the "Eden Plains."

The silver-armored guards stepped aside, watching as Thorin and his squad entered.

Stepping into the natural courtyard, Thorin led his men toward one of the wooden houses in the valley. The elders were not always present, but at least two were required to be on duty. The elder he had arranged to meet was Gwen, an old friend of Zig.

The door of the treehouse opened automatically as they approached. Gwen was already seated at a wooden table, waiting.

"Sit. Tell me everything you have gathered and all your suspicions regarding this incident."

Gwen spoke gently, gesturing for them to be seated so they could report the information in an orderly fashion.

"Yes."

Thorin replied, sitting opposite Elder Gwen and pausing to collect his thoughts.

"You are already aware of what occurred in the guests' quarters. It was a grave failure on our part, so I will not dwell on it. I have come to inform you of this because of my own misgivings—though perhaps I am merely being overly suspicious."

Thorin carefully summarized his thoughts.

"There is no harm in such caution. Speak; I will analyze it carefully."

Gwen nodded, saying nothing more.

"The last such accident in Lyaheim was over a decade ago, when an elf whose mind was corrupted by the Void killed several friends. In the years since, there have been no accidental deaths within Lyaheim, which makes this incident inherently suspicious."

"What troubles me is that the entity that attacked our guests was a plant-based lifeform, and it used the forbidden art of 'Life-Siphoning' to kill the orc."

As he spoke, Thorin signaled a subordinate, who produced a magic crystal. He activated the recording, projecting the ugly, deformed, and twisted Wood Spirit reconstructed by the black cat, Anne, before Elder Gwen.

"..."

Elder Gwen observed the twisted spirit closely. He did not remark on its hideous appearance, waiting quietly for Thorin to continue.

"What I find most unsettling is that the arrays embedded within the giant trees—those that grow alongside them—and the defensive measures branched out from the World Tree itself to guard Lyaheim, failed to detect this entity entirely. That is what truly disturbs me."

Thorin continued, detailing the part that felt most wrong.

A brief silence filled the treehouse. Once Gwen confirmed Thorin had finished, he nodded slightly.

"Well done. Your keenness and caution have been of great help. Life-Siphoning, combined with the nature of being ignored by the arrays and the World Tree... I already have a theory. I will conduct an investigation immediately. You are aware of the recent situation in the Origin Forest, are you not? What you have discovered has allowed me to draw a connection between this event and the recent state of the Origin Forest."

"Then I leave it to you!"

Thorin rose and spoke earnestly to Gwen before departing with his squad.

As the door closed, Gwen closed his eyes in thought for a moment. He stood, pushed open the door, and walked along the valley of the "Eden Plains" toward the center of the canopy.

"Life-Siphoning..."

As he walked, Gwen chewed on the name. Most elves knew only that it was a forbidden art, unaware of its true origin.

Life-Siphoning was a technique that violently extracted vitality after concretizing the abstract concept of life force. It was banned by the elves due to its devastating lethality and the excessive benefits it could provide. Only a few elder elves and certain druids, whether elven or foreign, possessed the knowledge of it.

The reason for the ban was not the point; what truly concerned Gwen was the origin of the technique: the World Tree.

It was a technique learned and imitated from the World Tree itself, just as the tree absorbed the magic, sunlight, and other energies of the realm, converting them entirely into life force.

Life-Siphoning functioned the same way, only the source of the vitality was shifted to the life of the victim.

"If it were merely the use of Life-Siphoning, I would not need to think in this direction, but..."

Gwen ventured deeper into the valley, the stream formed by the Fountain of Life guiding his path. His thoughts continued, pondering the implications of Thorin's report.

"It cannot be detected by the arrays that grow in symbiosis with the giant trees, nor can it be discovered by the branches of the World Tree itself. And as a plant-based lifeform, it can use a technique derived from the World Tree without ever being taught..."

Muttering to himself, Gwen’s figure suddenly blurred and vanished from the valley. He pierced through a labyrinthine lock set within the "Eden Plains" and entered the passage leading to the interior of the World Tree.

Entering the passage, Gwen gently stroked the wooden walls, feeling the abundant vitality radiating through them. He had entered the interior; the passage itself was the body of the World Tree.

"What has been happening to you these days? If my suspicions are true, what could have driven you to such actions?"

Gwen moved deeper. The further he went, the richer and more concentrated the vitality became, until it condensed into droplets of liquid life force in the air. He stepped into a vast, open space.

The space was filled with faint green motes of light. At its center lay a clear, bright turquoise pool—the liquid within was pure, liquefied vitality.

Gwen walked to the edge of the pool, knelt, and dipped his hand into the water. A warmth washed over him, and the abundant life force flowed gently into his body, restoring his not-so-weary frame to its peak state.

Gwen closed his eyes. Though he only dipped his hand in, as he focused on the feeling of being surrounded by that vitality, the gentle embrace gave him the illusion of returning to a mother's arms. Or perhaps, it was no illusion at all.

Though the elven race now reproduced like humans, all elves knew their origins lay in the three World Trees of the continent. The original form of these three trees was a single, unimaginably vast World Tree, from which the first High Elves were born.

To all elves, the World Tree was their mother. This pool, connected to the core of the tree, was no different from a mother's embrace.

During that cataclysmic war against the Abyss which once engulfed the entire continent, the High Elves sought to secure victory while shielding the World Tree—the very anchor of existence situated near the Abyssal core—from total annihilation.

By means now lost to history, they merged their essence with the World Tree, causing it to fracture into three distinct Trees of Life; these colossal entities uprooted their sprawling networks, drifting to separate corners of the continent to take hold, thereby forging the three Elven capitals, Liaheim among them.

Gawain opened his eyes, gazing into the depths of the pool where a long spear, crafted of wood with intricate and exquisite artistry, lay resting in the stillness, its golden aura pulsing with a rhythmic, fading light—it was the Source-Saint Spear, Casimir, one of the sacred relics of the Elven race.

The state of the relic mirrored the condition of the Tree of Life itself; when vitality flowed in abundance, the artifact would glow with a soft, perpetual gold, yet its current flickering state betrayed that the Tree was desperately siphoning life force to mend a void of unknown origin.

Gawain and the Elven elders had long since identified this anomaly, yet despite their tireless investigations, they lacked the High Elves’ ancient gift for communing with their "Silent Mother," leaving the source of that hollow ache a haunting mystery.

Coupled with the depletion of the Tree’s vitality and the reports relayed by the captain regarding the twisted wood-spirits—their ability to channel life, their invisibility to the protective wards and the Tree itself, and their insatiable hunger for essence—

Gawain was forced to the grim conclusion that the origin of these twisted spirits was none other than their own "Mother," the Tree of Life.

"Why must you do this..."

"Is it because of the Dwarves?"

"The pact forged during the Abyssal War was meant to seal our friendship and ensure our triumph, yet they seem to have twisted that agreement toward ends that were never intended."

Gawain murmured, his expression hardening, a dangerous glint igniting within the depths of his eyes.

"They must be stopped, before the situation spirals into a darkness beyond our power to mend..."