By dawn, the storm was still raging. The mood was somber, even melancholic in a sense. For a brief moment, the wind and rain relaxed, giving them a few hours to recalibrate before it would inevitably return with a vengeance.
Half the city was gone, and the rest of it was collapsed…
One by one, the towers had sunk into the swamp, vanishing beneath the rising flood. Tens of thousands were dead, and hundreds of thousands were missing, swallowed without a trace.
Those that survived only made up a small number of the city's total population.
On the horizon, the Corrupted World Tree loomed. Its black roots spread outward like veins across the land, contracting occasionally and triggering distant collapses that shook the earth with tremors that could be felt from anywhere in the western region.
The roots that had reached towards the city were still there. Entwined with the remains of Darkwell, they vanished into the abyssal chasm that had split the ground open, drawing the surrounding swamp down with everything else, including the city, insects, and Dusk Dwellers.
Elena stood among the ruins of the city, holding Pen's unconscious body under her arm.
Her expression was cold and sharp, but her mind was already racing.
Her eyes were so dark that you could practically feel her emotions radiating off her body.
Elena had been tricked!
Their target was never Pen!
She only realized this after everything had calmed down and she received the full story from the few surviving Black Tower mages…
Her heart was cold.
She'd promised the little girl, but in the end, she'd walked right into a trap, letting her get scooped up right under her nose.
Damn it!
Pot was gone, and Kareth had vanished with the Tibon Family. To make matters worse, Hitrit was also dead. This was the worst possible outcome.
She really hated dealing with the Tibon Family, regardless of the loop.
Those people, or the ones behind them, were the absolute worst!
This was bad, really bad.
She looked out across the flooded ruins of Darkwell.
The storm had quieted for a moment, but the world felt heavier than ever.
"What a disaster," she sighed softly.
-
The air smelled of blood, rot, and burning runes carved in stone.
The first thing they picked out was the city core, but after finding it, they quickly discovered that it had exploded along with the room and the workers within.
Many of those that were badly burned had suffered because they were too close to the explosion.
As for those within the core room…
There were few survivors, only six in total.
He looked over, watching the badly burned survivors being dragged out one after another, their faces indistinguishable from each other. Perhaps some of them would be better off dead. He watched as a young girl with silver-streaked blue hair was dragged out, her face disfigured, and her hands melted into stumps. Arthur sighed, lamenting the cruelty of fate.
He turned his attention back to his work…
Those who could move, moved like shadows between the remains of buildings and through the swampland, skirting the abyssal chasm in the center of the city to look for anything that remained.
Arthur stood knee-deep in the dark water, prying broken beams aside until his palms bled. Despite this, he looked unnaturally calm, almost like he'd already prepared himself for the damage he'd take.
The golden glow of foresight kept flickering within his eyes.
He paused, listened, and drove his shoulder into a slab of stone with a loud thud. After failing to move it, he frowned, then called some people over.
"Here," he commanded the men next to him.
The soldiers with him heaved. The slab toppled, and an arm broke free from the pocket of air beneath the rubble. Arthur reached down and pulled it up with his left hand...
Rotell coughed up swamp water, hair plastered across her cheek. She was soaked, and her clothes were slightly transparent, so she quickly took the cloak that Arthur was already holding out with his free hand. She blinked at the light, squinted at him, and tried to stand while pulling it on. Her legs were wobbly, and her body was exhausted. Despite that, she was mostly unhurt.
"Thank you," she coughed.
"Mm," Arthur hummed back.
Rotell was just one of many who'd been buried beneath the collapsing city at the end of the night.
* * *
By noon, rumors of the confrontation between the Black Tower and the Tibon Family had spread through the survivors in the camp like wildfire.
What was worse, it had extended far past a mere brawl.
Hitrit, a legendary Pillar of the Black Tower, was dead!
The Black Tower had come with a large group of people, but they'd left battered and broken. Most of the few surviving tower teachers gathered their apprentices and fled the Dark Swamp. Those that remained stared at the ruins and didn't move for a long time.
Those who knew Hitrit were devastated.
Hitrit had left no orders, no will, and not even a body.
It was shocking!
Many of them couldn't believe the news…
To make matters worse, the target of their mission had been recovered, but his sister was taken in his place. Could this even be considered a success? No. It was a pure humiliation! One could only imagine what would happen when Pen woke up and learned what had happened to his sister!
In addition to the disaster surrounding the Black Tower, the Tibon Family was also gone.
They'd disappeared overnight, leaving before the city had even collapsed.
They abandoned the United Army!
There was clearly something wrong with this…
* * *
Pillia returned before noon.
Her feathers were soaked, her cloak was shredded, and her eyes were wide open in a way that people who'd been awake too long would understand far too well. She carried a roll of message slips bound with thin wire, holding it tightly to her chest, and jogged over to Hexfill in a cute, peppy skip.
Bip bip bip bip~
Bip bip~
Bip bip bip, bip~
Pillia jumped over to the mercenary alliances camp and began explaining the situation…
"As we observed, the roots are moving," she said in an energetic voice.
Pillia had been hard at work over the last few hours, working far harder than any girl her age should've been. Despite this, she was full of energy, at least, on the outside. She had focused on sending her spies all across the continent at the quickest speed possible, receiving the newest updates, and deducing the current situation of the surrounding strongholds, er, or whatever was left of them...
"The biggest roots are stretching far beyond the western border, and the small ones are breaking out of the ground and absorbing vitality wherever they can."
No one spoke, so she continued.
"In the Grey Plains, there have been repeated sightings of smaller roots, some no thicker than a piece of rope, attacking people without warning. In the north of the Black Swamp, reports say they move beneath the ground like massive worms, collapsing temporary camps the moment they surface, almost as if they're hunting us. In the Cursed Hills, we lost all contact with them a few hours ago. The last report was from a town near the southern coast, which only had three survivors during the time of the last message. As for the Yin Forest, the message rune went black halfway through the report, so that city, as the closest to the Corrupted World Tree, should have been…"
Pillia continued to ramble on and on, quickening her pace as she reported. It was an abundance of energy that didn't fit her figure.
She set the bundle down and steadied herself on a broken rock.
"Also… the Poison Sea surged once again last night," she said. "The Grey Plains are basically submerged, with only a few highlands remaining. Towns like Hurnlum, um, are submerged, and they're currently relying on magic shields to keep the poisonous water out."
Hexfill took the papers without reading them and stuffed them in his bag. He knew that this little ball of energy would forget them if he didn't.
Pillia continued…
"The insect sightings have exploded, with some reports describing massive monsters that have reached up to one hundred meters in size. In addition, the Dusk Dwellers appear to be getting smarter. Their behavior has shifted from randomly hunting like beasts to deliberately targeting settlements like Darkwell, spreading their corruption, and gradually increasing their numbers."
Hexfill's heart felt heavy.
Like the other mercenaries, they could already feel the lid slowly closing on the western region.
Pillia finished with, "Lastly, the evacuation paths have been properly protected, in a few weeks, I suspect that to reach them, we'd need to traverse the Poison Sea."
Hexfill nodded.
* * *
Amid the debris…
On top of a floating tower that had collapsed, a small group gathered beneath its tilted stone arch. Rain drummed against the tarp overhead and ran down in thin, convulsing streams.
Elena was the last to arrive.
She carried Pen under one arm like a sleeping child, his wrists and throat wrapped in gauze and medicine. She laid him gently on a wooden plank set atop two crates, then covered him with a dry cloak before approaching the others. For a moment, the only sound was the static of the rain, the roar of the wind, and the distant rumble of the sky…
Hexfill had arrived shortly before Elena.
He leaned his sword against a cracked pillar and closed his eyes.
Rotell rested her rapier across her knees, while Arthur sat nearby to help her fix it.
Elena watched the rain.
Her face was calm, but it couldn't hide her tired sigh.
She was exhausted.
All of them were like this.
For a long time, none of them spoke…
The current state of the United Army was terrible. People had lost hope. With Kareth's disappearance, it only further cemented the despair that had been growing. The Black Tower retreated, the Tibon Family disappeared, and the Sky, Storm, and Royal Towers didn't even participate. There was no Church of Light, and the soldiers sent by the Hellion Empire were far from the elite. Things were just spiraling towards an end. Many of those not from the western region had already pulled out, and even more were leaning towards retreat. What's worse, even some people from the western region were ready to give up. They didn't see a way out for their home, so what was the point in dying for it?
Morale was at an all-time low.
The mood of the people weren't much better than the clouds in the sky...
"We're done here," Rotell finally said. "Now that Darkwell is gone, it's too dangerous to stay any longer. I think we should pull everyone out and evacuate what's left."
Hexfill frowned. "And the Tree? Don't tell me we should just leave it for an expert to deal with. Even if it would happen eventually, who knows if the continent will still be there by then…"
'It will,' Elena thought to herself.
That was the worst-case scenario. If they failed, the hidden monsters in the north would wake up and deal with it themselves.
The continent would still be there, but humanity wouldn't…
Elena's gaze shifted towards the horizon, where the clouds were the darkest. The rain there brightened and dimmed, as if something behind it was breathing in step with the lightning.
"The Corrupted World Tree comes next," she said.
Hexfill's voice was flat. "In our state, can we still make it?"
"If it fully wakes up," Elena replied, "there won't be any saving us. If we can't bring an army, then we can at least bring our elites."
"What about the ants?" Rotell asked. "That wasn't a one-time attack, right?"
Arthur exhaled slowly. "The ants are likely some kind of guard. Whatever is beneath the World Tree, they belong to it. If we want to stop it, we'll probably have to go through them."
Hexfill huffed.
Rotell frowned.
Elena closed her eyes.
This guy knew the future, so of course he was right.
After a long pause, the discussion continued.
It turned to what would be done next, and who would do it…
Rotell and the Hellion Empire's army would take those who wanted to give up, those too injured to continue, and the remaining citizens out of the western region, returning the way they came, and leaving through the underground tunnel network unearthed by Kilemin.
Hexfill would advance with the main body of the United Army. He'd continue to coordinate with the different branches and split apart to sweep all the remaining settlements that had yet to be visited.
Elena would move with a smaller, elite force, one meant to descend directly beneath the World Tree.
Finally, Arthur remained silent…
No one questioned him because everyone understood that Arthur had his own way of doing things.
With that, they divided the remaining forces and organized what little they could, preparing to depart before the storm worsened.
-
They ended the meeting.
They all understood that it was almost time for the final battle, and the disaster in Darkwell was just a prelude to the true chaos. The wind blew, trying to take the canvas, but Hexfill slammed down his hand, pinning it to the side while he stared into the rain. Rotell checked the straps of her armor before sliding her sword back into her belt. Arthur wiped a spot of mud from his goggles, then turned away.
They all left.
The others left as well.
Soon, only Elena, Arthur, and the unconscious Pen remained standing in the rain…
Arthur spoke first, not even needing to be asked. "I can't find his sister. That family is using the future calamities to mess with my divination, almost like a shield. You should know this."
"Mm," Elena mumbled.
She lowered her eyes.
There was a long pause.
Only the static of the rain remained.
After some time…
"Do you regret it?" Arthur asked softly.
Elena lowered her head, then shook it. "No, I don't. If the worst comes to worst, it'll work out."
Arthur shook his head.
In his mind, he thought Elena was being too soft.
He asked, "You want me to take him, right?"
Elena raised her head and looked at Arthur. After a long pause, she sighed and nodded.
That was for the best.
If he went back to the Black Tower, he would probably be blamed for Hitrits death.
Although she didn't want to admit it, she was in no position to take care of a child right now. As for Pen, Elena didn't have the ability or time to rescue his sister. Perhaps after he woke up, he'd even hate her with a passion.
It couldn't be helped. He needed an outlet.
In the end, none of that mattered. Elena's goals were far bigger, and a mere stumble wouldn't derail them. She knew what Pen and Pot were supposed to be, but their fates had diverged so much at this point that it was unpredictable.
Leaving Pen with Arthur was a very good idea.
At least for now.
Both were highly skilled craftsmen, and Arthur also had the ability to help Pen find his sister.
In the end, she left him with Arthur.
This was a risk, but it was a risk she was willing to take.
As for why…
It was probably the lack of a lightning scar on the boy's arms. Pen was poisoned when he was young, and that poison was incurable. At least, it should've been.
Seeing the missing scar, Elena could only think of one person who might be able to cure 'that'.
Since that was the case…
She might as well let it play out.
* * *
By nightfall, the storm found its voice again…