Chapter 271: Confrontation, Sudden Change, Compatriots

On the border of the Dwarven Kingdom, in Ironforge, where the elven contingent was stationed, Gawain sat in a wooden chair. He stared at the text manifesting on the emerald-like leaf in his hand, his brow furrowed, his eyes filled with gravity and bewilderment.

"The Elven perception of the Dwarves has been skewed. Our own allies have been twisted by the power of the devil into objects of loathing. Gawain, you must have been the most severely affected—partly due to your temperament, but also because you were subjected to the greatest concentration of that power."

This was a one-time transmission performed via a leaf of the World Tree, utilizing the inherent connection between the leaf and its source to project the words of the other elders onto its surface.

"The groundless malice and suspicion I felt toward the Dwarves earlier was far too abnormal. At that time, my mind was absolutely distorted by the devil’s influence."

"I was paranoid, convinced the Dwarves were the culprits behind the anomalies of the World Tree, which is why I insisted on coming here personally. Being sent away must have been part of the devil’s plan, but why was it me who was chosen to be cast aside?"

Gawain clasped his hands beneath his chin, lost in deep thought. He could not understand why he had been the one sent to the Dwarven Kingdom, especially since his strength was among the lowest of all the elders.

"Returning is impossible. Elijah-Heim’s strength should be sufficient to handle any situation. I hope all is well."

Gawain felt a profound sense of helplessness. If he could return immediately, he would have rushed back to Elijah-Heim without hesitation to see for himself what had transpired, but...

The distance was too vast; even a large-scale long-distance teleportation array could not bridge such a gap.

"Clang, clang..."

The door was knocked upon. Gawain looked toward the entrance and waved his hand; magic-infused vines growing by the door frame pulled it open, revealing a familiar, short, bearded figure: the Dwarf, Toby Copperbeard.

"I heard there was some trouble on your end, so I came to see what’s going on."

The Dwarf raised his eyebrows, his tone perfectly matter-of-fact.

"My apologies. Our attitude earlier was overly aggressive; it was our fault. Our minds were influenced by the devil’s power, which led us to act wrongly."

Gawain looked at the Dwarf he had previously threatened and offered a sincere apology. The "pride" of the Elves ensured they would never shy away from facing their own failings.

"No need for apologies. If it was the devil’s power at work, it can’t be counted as your fault. I just want to know what the devil intends to do by influencing you. Are they going to strike at Elijah-Heim? If so, as your allies, we are certainly obligated to contribute."

Toby the Dwarf paid no mind to the apology, instead asking directly what the devil wanted with the Elves.

That was how these short folk were: warm-hearted toward their own, and focused strictly on the facts. Since it was the devil’s influence, they wouldn't dream of pinning the blame on the Elves.

Besides, the Dwarves held a deep historical grudge against the devil; the theft of the legendary forging hammer of the Dwarf King during a succession ceremony had been the work of one of those fiends.

Dwarves might be warm-hearted, but they were also truly vindictive. Most Dwarves kept a little book to record things and beings that displeased them, and given the chance, they would absolutely pull out their hammers to strike at anyone written inside.

"The message received so far is that we must face a giant worm known as the 'World Eater.' There is no further intelligence beyond that."

Gawain tapped his forehead lightly. With the distorted perception of the Dwarves erased, he finally realized how reliable these allies were; otherwise, the Elves would never have reached an agreement with such stubborn fellows in the first place.

"That works out well. The Iron King, Bogul, could use an opponent to stretch his limbs and see what this big guy is really made of. Don't let its size and weight fool you; its speed in motion is beyond anything you can imagine."

Toby waved his hand, speaking with a heroic air that reflected the intentions of the entire Dwarven race.

"Shouldn't the Iron King be of vital importance to you? You’re choosing to deploy it just like that?"

Though Gawain was pleased by their enthusiasm, he was also somewhat puzzled. Given the sheer rigidity the Dwarves had shown him earlier, that steel giant surely held extraordinary significance for them.

"When a miracle happens only once, it is naturally precious beyond measure. But when it can be replicated, it’s just that—a replication. What we Dwarves need is to confirm that the Iron King can be manufactured and to gather the necessary data."

"Now that it has been created, it shouldn't be a mere ornament in a showroom. The Iron King is not just for show..."

...

When a black line appeared in the sky and gradually widened, and the dense, swarming black dots began to emerge around it, the Elves knew the enemy they were to face had arrived.

Arriving even earlier than the World Eater itself was its aura: putrid, withered, and yet strangely filled with an inexplicable vitality, as if a glutton had gorged itself until its stomach was bloated—plenty of nutrition, but very little truly absorbed.

"Creak, creak, creak, creak..."

On the outer defensive line of the Primeval Forest, the War-Trees carrying the giant alchemical cannons shifted their bodies unnaturally. Their branches rubbed against each other, emitting loud sounds, for the sickening aura of the World Eater made these ancient sentinels deeply uncomfortable.

"Friends, stay calm. Once we strike this thing down, its stench will vanish. For now, keep your spirits up and stand firm when it comes time to fire."

A green radiance appeared on the canopy of the War-Trees. It was a spell cast by a Druid standing atop the ancient tree, natural magic soothing the restless giants and bringing them back to composure.

The agitation of the War-Trees subsided quickly under the Druid’s pacification. The massive alchemical cannons they carried adjusted their aim, aligning with the row of war-trees beside them.

"It’s a big one. Have the Elven Rangers withdraw behind the artillery line. Individual combat power won't be of much use against it. The standby Rangers can assist in dealing with the smaller worms flying alongside the great one."

The Elven commander observed the World Eater through a magic array as it flew straight toward them, its form expanding in their field of vision, and relayed the orders.

The Elven Rangers scattered throughout the forest quickly turned back, retreating between the ranks of the cannon-bearing War-Trees. They drew their longbows and nocked their arrows, waiting for the World Eater to enter the range of the alchemical cannons.

"Rumble..."

The ground vibrated. From the heart of the Primeval Forest, something was breaking through the soil. Verdant vines pushed aside the earth, twisting to clear a path for the object rising in the center.

Crystals flashing with dazzling green light were the first to break the surface, their magical fluctuations spreading rapidly. Beneath them, the carrier of the crystals—a spire entwined with vines—rose from the ground, vibrating as it linked with the power of the green crystals. A resonance formed, and powerful energy began to accumulate atop the spire.

Such spires rose one after another in a circle within the Primeval Forest. The dissipated magic network of the Mythic Lock tapped into them, integrating them as the outermost defensive layer—analogous to the skin of a human body.

However, one should not underestimate their power simply because they were the outermost layer. Under the control of the Elven mages, the torrents of magic rays emitted from the crystals were enough to annihilate most entities below the legendary rank.

"Crystal Spire attack array is ready. Once the target enters range, we can initiate a strike of escalating power after locking on."

The Elven mage floating beside the crystal spire relayed the status. With this, the Elves' outermost defensive line against the World Eater was fully revealed.

This was a "probing" attack against the World Eater, yet such a probe, supported by the profound heritage of the Elves, became terrifyingly formidable.

The World Eater was fast; this was the posture it displayed while traveling at full speed. Its massive form was soon fully captured by the Elves' sight. After approaching within a certain range of the Primeval Forest, the limbs it had been using to pull through the void gradually slowed, reducing its speed.

As it slowed, the corrupt minions swarming around it could no longer wait and began to spread outward, charging toward the Primeval Forest like madmen.

The abundant vitality there attracted these small worms. Although their mission was to harvest life force and deliver it to the World Eater, this did not hinder their own greed for such energy.

The overwhelming swarm of corrupt minions descended from the sky, diving toward the Primeval Forest. Their sheer numbers obscured part of the sunlight, casting a gloom over the Elven defensive positions.

"Artillery array, fire every fifth cannon. Blast these minions apart; leave the rest to the Elven Rangers."

The commander’s voice, devoid of any tension, was relayed calmly. The Elven Druids executed the task without hesitation, channeling natural magic to guide the War-Trees to pull the "triggers" of the cannons specially crafted for these giants.

"Boom, boom, boom, boom!"

The great cannons roared. The astonishing recoil caused the massive trees to slide backward, carving deep furrows into the earth. Every fifth cannon fired; searing light and deafening roars echoed throughout the artillery line.

The quality of the "Big Bangs" provided by the Dwarves was beyond reproach, and even the alchemical fuel was of the finest grade. Red-hot shells soared into the sky, containing turbulent magical fluctuations, but mostly pure, volatile "energy."

The massive swarm of small worms opened their hideous, disgusting ring-shaped maws as they descended upon the forest below. Then, the glowing shells, packed with volatile energy, slammed mercilessly into the clusters of worms, exploding in a thunderous display that unleashed devastating power upon the filthy corrupt minions.

"Bang!"

All shells were detonated simultaneously by the magical timers hidden within. The sound of the explosions merged into a single roar that shook the sky, the radiant light of the blasts re-illuminating the Elven defensive positions that had been darkened by the swarm.

"Splat, splat, whoosh, whoosh..."

As the light faded, the sturdy armor plates of the small worms proved meaningless against cannons that required War-Trees as firing platforms. The corrupt minions near the centers of the explosions were simply "evaporated," their internal corruption reduced to slag by the pure thermal destruction.

Others had their bodies shattered but did not fully "die," their remains falling from the sky and turning into putrid black mud.

A very few corrupt minions survived the chain explosions that blanketed the sky, continuing their mad dive downward, knowing nothing of fear.

The black mud formed from the corpses of the corrupt minions fell to the ground, greedily absorbing every ounce of life force they touched. Grass, trees, soil, and stone withered and died rapidly under the influence of this sludge, which writhed and began to gestate new corrupt minions.

"Hiss!"

Clusters of verdant light tore through the air, slamming into the squirming, repulsive black sludge. As they extinguished the vile abominations gestating within, they bloomed into translucent green flora atop the mire, scattering motes of light that returned the stolen vitality of the fallen corruption to the earth.

It was the elven druids, perched upon the shoulders of the Ancient Protectors, who had struck. As guardians of nature, they would not permit these entities—which grew with such frantic, gluttonous greed—to hoard the life force of the world. They were well-versed in pruning such unnatural, overgrown monstrosities.

"Chirp, chirp, chirp!"

Arrows wreathed in shimmering battle-aura streaked across the sky. The elven rangers, scattered among the artillery batteries of the Ancient Protectors, were waiting precisely for the stragglers that had survived the initial bombardment.

An elven ranger is not necessarily a master archer, but an elf who is not a master archer is certainly no true ranger—unless, of course, they favor cannons and muskets.

At the very least, these rangers stationed among the batteries were marksmen of the highest caliber. A rain of arrows fell in reverse, rising from the ground to pierce and slaughter the smaller worms caught in the "downpour."

The battle-aura and natural incantations clinging to the shafts detonated within the corrupted kin, ensuring their vital points were obliterated beyond any hope of recovery.

As the first wave of corruption assaulting the Origin Forest was easily dispatched, the giant worm—the World Eater—loomed over the canopy.

Its massive, rotting eye swept over the landscape below, filled with an unmasked, absolute, and ravenous hunger. The entity that promised to sate its bottomless void was close.

Then, it exploded. Whatever it was, the cannons lacked the intellect to care; to them, giant worm or small, all were treated with equal prejudice.

Only one-fifth of the massive alchemical cannons had fired previously, but now, that same fraction had cooled, and together with the rest of the battery, they unleashed a fresh, thunderous volley.

The creature’s gargantuan size proved to be its undoing; for the elves, such a massive target required no precision. A slight adjustment of the barrels was enough to ensure the beast was fully engulfed in the barrage.

Hundreds of alchemical shells soared upward, either slamming directly into the World Eater’s frame to tear through its hardened carapace and detonate within, sending sprays of putrid flesh and chitinous shrapnel into the sky, or bursting in its wake, the searing heat and concussive force scouring its surface, peeling back armor and charring everything they touched.

When the first round of bombardment ceased, the elves saw that the giant worm was a tattered, wretched mess. Its massive body was riddled with wounds, and countless gashes leaked thick, nauseating fluids.

"Its defense is unexpectedly frail... Continue the barrage. Shred it completely."

The commander’s voice held a hint of confusion. The World Eater’s durability was vastly disproportionate to its size. Even a Great Knight would perish from a single such shell; a creature of this magnitude should have possessed legendary-tier defenses. It should not have been so easily breached.

But no matter. Keep firing. A weak enemy was a cause for celebration.

"Gurgle..."

A strange sound echoed as an organ within the World Eater, triggered by its "grievous" injuries, began to pulse.

Similar to the spatial pockets dragons use to store their physical forms, this worm possessed a hidden dimension accessible only to itself. Within, decades of accumulated vitality churned like a turbulent sea. The space cracked open, bleeding a fraction of that stored life force outward.

Under the elves' watchful eyes, the gaping wounds on the worm’s massive body began to knit with frantic speed. Rotting flesh filled the voids, and shattered eyes regrew upon every segment of its frame. Like a 3D printer in motion, the giant worm reconstructed its entire being in less than half a minute.

"Is it this terrifying regenerative capacity that made you neglect your defense? That won't be enough."

The commander muttered. The World Eater’s self-healing was indeed harrowing—a full recovery in thirty seconds. The artillery’s firing interval was two minutes; without staggered volleys, they would be unable to inflict lasting harm.

But the elves possessed more than one line of defense. Fast recovery? Everything had a limit. Once that threshold was breached, this poorly armored worm would be annihilated.

"Crystal Spires, engage."

"Hummmmmm!"

Every crystal spire that had risen from the earth began to roar under the influx of energy. Power surged, drawn from the ley lines beneath the soil and channeled into the crystals above. Once concentrated to a critical degree, they erupted, firing blinding pillars of white light toward the worm in the sky.

The beams struck the World Eater, producing thunderous, explosion-like impacts that melted and shattered the regrown carapace, boring into the worm’s body to ravage its interior.

The white beams thickened as they sustained their fire. As the crystals heated, they reached a higher tier of power. The dazzling light vanished, replaced by a torrent of destructive energy invisible to the naked eye. There was no flash, only the sight of the worm’s body disintegrating into madness.

And this was but one beam. Every crystal spire was now pouring its unreserved destructive power into the World Eater.

As if flayed by invisible blades, the giant worm’s body was carved with endless wounds. The glaring gashes seemed on the verge of severing and shattering it entirely.

Vitality flooded from the worm’s unique organ, washing over its body again and again to knit the wounds shut. Its near-immortal recovery actually achieved a stalemate with the destructive rays, allowing it to continue its advance toward Liahim.

"Fire!"

Yet, balances can be broken. The extra destruction arrived with the next round of artillery, ready and waiting. Blazing firelight engulfed the World Eater, while the magical torrents from the crystal spires pierced through the flames, never relenting for a moment.

The combined assault shattered the equilibrium between the worm’s healing and its trauma. When the firelight faded, the tattered, massive carcass of the worm plummeted from the sky, crashing into the Origin Forest. Its limbs ceased their thrashing; unable to fly, the World Eater seemed to have lost the strength to move.

"Keep attacking! Give it no chance!"

The elven commander would not be careless. He would not grant the World Eater even a sliver of hope for recovery, even if it was, quite shockingly, so weak...

...

"Oh my, how can you bully your own brother? You are all children born of the same mother; fratricide is hardly becoming. Your mother will be so sad."

"Sigh, to influence the Tree of Life, I exhausted all my remaining power of distortion. If the Tree of Life were still the World Tree of old, I could never have touched it, no matter how much I spent."

"But now? The World Tree has split into three, and the High Elves have all merged within them. This gave me such a wonderful opportunity..."

"Enough. Dear mother, who dotes so heavily on her children, please restrain these elven brats. Tell them to stop bullying their little brother."

In the void where the devil resided, one of his kind watched the battle between the elves and the World Eater on a shimmering screen, speaking with gleeful excitement.

The elves were born of the Tree of Life; they were, without question, her children. And the World Eater, having been infused with the Tree’s vitality for decades before its birth—in a sense, the Tree of Life was its mother, too.

Thus, the elves and the World Eater were siblings.

A mother who dotes too heavily on her children would never allow them to slaughter one another.

An invisible force, linking every elf, rippled outward, delivering a command directly to their souls.

"Fire!"

The order came from the commander, but nothing followed. The elves found themselves utterly unable to commit an act of aggression against the World Eater. The druids could not command the Ancient Protectors to fire, and the mages guiding the crystal spires stopped their assault, their bodies no longer under their own control.

Abruptly, the battlefield fell into a profound silence.

"Heh heh heh, my previous comment about extra updates for the May Day holiday was a joke. In truth, as long as I have material to write, I will keep updating. I will be updating incessantly for a while now; it is time to let the plot soar. What I have planned next... well, it is far more than what is displayed before you."