The World Tree was burning. Colossal, white-hot flames licked up the sides of the massive trunk, turning the ancient, sacred bark into a towering pillar of ash and suffocating smoke . To King Artwin, it was a vision of the end of the world—the complete destruction of his country's heart. The sky bled crimson as the roots groaned deep beneath the earth.
Suddenly, through the smoke, his own Dire Wolf beast soul approached him—the very soul he had left behind to protect his wife, Queen Layressea . With a gasping breath, King Artwin snapped awake. Cold sweat dripped down his face as he sat upright in the dark. At his side, his manifested Dire Wolf let out a low, anxious whine. He knew immediately that something was terribly wrong; a dream of the World Tree burning could never be a good sign. More terrifyingly, his Dire Wolf was here with him in the palace of King Arcaneya, rather than guarding his wife.
King Artwin was here on a crucial diplomatic mission, having been granted temporary authority to represent the country of Befredon since his wife was nine months pregnant and unable to travel. He bolted from his chambers, his breath ragged as the phantom heat of the burning World Tree clung to his skin. Within minutes, he stood before King Arcaneya in the grand, moonlit audience chamber of the high palace.
"King Artwin," King Arcaneya spoke, his voice cool and measured as he looked down at the frantic ruler. "What drives a fellow monarch to breach my sanctuary at this ungodly hour?"
"The World Tree," King Artwin gasped out, his hand gripping his sword hilt so tightly his knuckles turned white. "I saw it burn, King Arcaneya. My wife... something is terribly wrong. My soul demands that I return home immediately.
"King Arcaneya’s eyes narrowed, sensing the genuine panic radiating off King Artwin. He waved a hand, dismissing the palace guards who had drawn their weapons. "A vision of the Mother Tree?" King Arcaneya murmured, rising from his throne. "Very well. I will bypass the council's protocols and grant you access to our royal teleportation array. It will drop you directly at the edge of your forest.
"King Arcaneya stepped down from the dais, placing a heavy hand on King Artwin's shoulder. "But heed my words, King Artwin. The strength of monsters across the lands has been rising aggressively over the past ten years. We are entering troubled times, and all elven bloodlines must unite if we are to survive. If the child your wife carries is born a daughter, she must marry my son. We will cement an unbreakable alliance between our nations.
"King Artwin barely heard the proposal over the roaring panic in his own mind, giving a frantic nod just to hasten his departure. "Agreed, King Arcaneya. Just send us through!"
The magic flared, instantly throwing King Artwin and his wife's head guard, Kristorf van Paladin, to the outer edge of the World Tree’s ancient forest, drastically hastening their arrival home. As the residual mana of the teleportation array crackled and faded into the night air, the dense, familiar canopy of the Befredon forest loomed ahead
King Artwin turned to Kristorf . The Knight Commander stood about six feet tall, possessing a deeply weathered and aged face—a rare, striking visual for an elf, and a testament to his thousands of advanced years of brutal combat experience . His long green hair was bound tightly in a practical warrior's ponytail, his hand already resting on the pommel of his blade ."
I’m going to transform into my mount form," King Artwin commanded, his voice deep as the red and black fur on his arms began to ripple with raw energy . "Hop on, and be ready to cut down anyone that gets in our way."
With a deafening roar of shifting muscles, King Artwin’s physical frame violently expanded, molding into a massive, terrifyingly majestic red-and-black furred Dire Wolf . The moment Kristorf leapt onto his back, a sudden surge of golden, plasma-coated energy violently coursed through the Paladin’s heavy armor . King Artwin’s rare Support Mount trait had automatically engaged, locking their life-grids together .Kristorf felt his baseline reflexes violently sharpen as a massive Velocity and Strike-Force tier multiplier flooded his nerve endings.
The moment they sprinted toward the treeline, an endless stream of bandits came pouring forth from the woods . And then, the shockwaves began . The earth violently trembled beneath their feet, cracking the dirt path . They were still three days away from the capital city of Yggdrasil .With each flash of King Artwin's plasma-coated claws, a bandit fell, synchronized perfectly with another heavy shockwave echoing from a cataclysmic battle far in the distance . And with each sweep of Kristorf's blade—now moving with the unnatural, supercharged speed of the King's mount buff—another mercenary was bisected cleanly in half .
For three grueling days and three endless nights, the forest path was a meat grinder of flesh and bone . An unholy, non-stop stream of underworld bandits and frenzied monsters threw themselves into the meat-wheel of King Artwin's charge. They didn't fight to win. They fought to die, burning away the precious seconds of the clock.
By the time the final tree line broke, King Artwin and Kristorf burst into a massive clearing located ten miles outside the capital city of Yggdrasil. An apocalyptic wasteland spread out before them. The entire natural landscape had been completely torn to shreds. Giant, jagged rents cleaved the earth open, while towering, multi-ton spires of compressed rock jutted into the sky like broken teeth, some floating mysteriously in the shattered air.
Just as the final, continent-shaking shockwaves subsided into a terrifying, ringing silence, they saw her.
It’s dark. Pitch black, actually.
Where am I?Where the hell am I?
Before my thirty-five-year-old corporate-minded brain can solve the logistics of this sensory nightmare, the entire world around me violently shakes. The crushing walls of whatever fluid-filled room I'm trapped in convulse with a terrifying, rhythmic pressure.
The last thing I remember, I was walking home from work on a freezing evening, and then... nothing. It’s warm in here. Suffocatingly warm. Wait, I can’t breathe! No, hold on—puzzlingly enough, I don't actually feel the need to breathe. My lungs aren't moving, but my brain is completely active. And why does the inside of my mouth taste like old pennies?!
Suddenly, something sharp and metallic pierces straight through the darkness from the outside. What the hell is going on?!
A thin, jagged tear rips open in the dark barrier above my head. Through the opening, a faint, radiant light spills inside, illuminating the fluid around me. Is that... blood?
High Queen Layressea illuminated the decimated wasteland in her colossal, majestic Polar Bear beast form. An elite warrior clad in dark, heavy armor was trapped in her jaws, his bones crushing under her [Demigod] Strength. But as King Artwin looked on, his vision fractured in pure horror. A glowing greatsword pierced cleanly through the Queen’s giant chest, protruding out her back. Simultaneously, a dark, poison-dripping dagger was driven deep into her pregnant stomach.
The armored man trapped in her jaw dissolved into a sudden puff of black smoke, escaping her teeth as a shadow clone. But the physical toll of the Queen's final, crushing bite was absolute. Somewhere in his hidden vantage point, the real, physical body of the 2nd Pillar collapsed and died from the sheer trauma of the strike. Due to the dark, reality-warping nature of the cosmic villain's weapons, the 2nd Pillar's corpse instantly vanished from existence, pulling the greatsword and dagger cleanly out of the Queen's flesh as they dissolved into the void along with him.
With a heavy, rattling gasp, the Queen’s giant beast form fractured. The massive Polar Bear dissolved, shifting her body back into the fragile form of a nine-months-pregnant elf. Dark crimson blood heavily stained her long, pure white hair and soaked through the front of her torn, royal purple gown. She fell backward, gravity taking her limp body toward the blood-soaked dirt.
King Artwin pushed his [Advanced] Agility past its absolute breaking point, diving across the jagged rents of the battlefield. His arms caught her just before her white hair hit the dirt, pulling his dying wife tightly against his chest. "Layressea! Stay with me!" King Artwin choked out, his hands desperately pressing against the horrific wounds. Blood soaked through his fingers, refusing to clot. A massive, earth-shaking kinetic impact rattles the room. Right as the outer wall begins to split, a distant, beautiful voice echoes directly inside my mind.
Behind them, Kristorf van Paladin stood guard. Seeing the life rapidly draining from the 1st Pillar, the weathered veteran dropped to one knee, slammed his greatsword into the earth, and drew upon every drop of his [Divine] Holy Magic to chant his ultimate, forbidden incantation:
“By the sovereign light, let my vital spark answer this final bequest, and shatter the limits of this cruel fate! I yield my marrow, my mantle, and my breath—grant my strength to the fallen, that they may rise in my stead!”
The moment the last syllable left his lips, a deafening crack of spiritual feedback echoed across the clearing. Unstable, jagged blue lightning began to dance wildly across Kristorf's heavy plate armor, making it visibly smoke as the raw, rejected energy scorched his frame. Kristorf gritted his teeth through the agony, assuming the Omanus cursed weapons had corrupted his spell. He had no idea that the system had violently rejected his magic for a completely different reason: there was simply no soul left inside the body to target.
King Artwin wept, pressing his forehead against Layressea's cold skin. "Please... you can't leave us..."
Right as the outer wall begins to split, a distant, beautiful voice echoes directly inside my mind. “Reach out...”
Kristorf was the first to notice the slight movement. Through the deep, jagged gash cutting across the Queen's stomach, a set of tiny, pale fingers poked outward, kicking against the torn fabric. The veteran Paladin placed a heavy hand on his monarch's shaking shoulder, shocking King Artwin back to his senses. "Your child lives! You must hurry!"
Who’s there? I try to scream, but my vocal cords fail to produce a single syllable. A sudden, unnatural burst of strength rushes straight into my uncoordinated limbs—a violent surge from a hidden reservoir within my soul. Driven by pure survival instinct, I reach my tiny, stubby arm toward the light as a massive silver claw forcefully tears the opening wider.
King Artwin looked down at the devastating wound in her stomach and saw the tiny, moving fingers. Gritting his teeth against the absolute agony of the moment, he laid the cold body of his wife gently upon the blood-stained ground. Utilizing his own clawed, red-and-black furred fingers, King Artwin carefully worked to open her womb. He reached into the cavity and pulled the newborn infant out into the open air. Miraculously, the baby was completely unhurt. The assassin’s Cursed blade had only severed the umbilical cord, leaving the child’s body untouched.
Before I can process the sheer madness of the situation, the heavy hands grab me firmly and pull me completely out of the dark void and into the open air.
As the cold forest wind howled over the apocalyptic clearing, the tiny purple-haired princess blinked open her deep crystal blue eyes, her adult mind silently screaming in shock as she took her very first breath. The light was so blindingly bright that my eyes instantly tore up, blurring my vision. The quiet room was violently shattered by sound—first the heavy, synchronized clank of silver Mithril boots, then panicked, frantic voices speaking in a strange, booming language that sounds like a fluid dialect of Norse.
As the burning brightness slowly dims, my vision clears, and the reality of my situation hits me like a flashbang. I am being held by a towering mountain of a man who is entirely covered in fresh, steaming blood. A magnificent crown crafted in an elegant, living leaf-like design rests upon his head, but his fierce composure is completely broken as tears gush down his rugged face. He is undeniably handsome, possessing the striking, sharp features of a high-tier warrior king, but strangely enough, he has a pair of furry wolf ears twitching on his head and a massive tail swaying behind him. Bold red and black fur runs along his muscular arms, and his fingernails look more like lethal, razor-sharp claws.
He looks directly down into my eyes and speaks, his booming voice full of desperate emotion, but I can't understand a single word he is saying. What in the world is going on? Why are my muscles completely unresponsive? Why can I barely move my arms? And how is this man easily picking me up as if I weigh absolutely nothing?!
King Artwin immediately turned to Kristorf, his sovereign voice cutting through the ringing silence of the wasteland. "Kristorf, ride back to the capital at once. Fetch the Royal Guard and inform the Prime Minister of what has transpired here. More importantly, find Honorary Viscountess Melawin. She gave birth to her own child a month ago; she must be brought to serve as a wet nurse for the princess."
Without a word, the veteran Paladin nodded, pushed off with his holy haste, and ran back toward the city like a blur of golden light.
Left alone in the quiet, ruined clearing, King Artwin looked down at his daughter. The frantic adult confusion on her tiny face had slowly melted away, and she was now fast asleep in his massive arms."
I name you Kirra Fay Befredon," King Artwin whispered softly, tears still tracing tracks through the blood on his cheeks. "First Princess of Befredon."
Thirty grueling minutes ticked by before the horizon filled with the heavy thud of marching metal. Kristorf returned at the vanguard of the Royal Guard. Behind them, they trailed an ornately decorated carriage rack, prepared specifically to carry the fallen body of the First Pillar back to the capital city of Yggdrasil.
But the real silence had already fallen across the territory. In that precise microsecond of her death, the heartbeat-tethered lifelines of the world had violently snapped. Above the forest, the thousand individual jade domes—the brilliant [Jade Palace] Barrier Magic that Layressea had meticulously woven to protect every single town and isolated village strictly within the boundaries of the Befredon forest—had wildly fractured. Millions of citizens huddled inside their grown-wood homes looked up as the jade shields shattered like brittle glass, dissolving into glittering stardust. The absolute royal edict given to the populace—do not step outside until the barriers fall—had been triggered. But the falling of the domes brought no joy. It was the silent, world-shaking alarm broadcasting the truth to the entire country: the High Queen was dead.
As the barriers vanished, a violent flash of cosmic text overrode the air directly above the sleeping infant. The system code violently ruptured across King Artwin’s vision, bypassing the universe's natural restrictions to print out an uncapped reality seal that flashed right into the child's closed eyelids:
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GAIA PROTOCOL INITIALIZED
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▶ CRITICAL FAILSAFE DETECTED: CORE DIRECTIVE 001
▶ REINCARNATION OVERLAY: SOUL TRANSITION STABLE
▶ INNATE SOUL REWARD UNLOCKED: [BLESSING OF INFINITY]
- Lifespan limiters deactivated. Uncapped continuous evolution enabled.
==================================================
As the procession finally reached the gates of the capital city of Yggdrasil, the massive barriers of grown cedar—intricately decorated with glittering golden magic runes on their surface—slid open soundlessly on well-oiled hinges. Elite soldiers were lined up on both sides of the road, their finest mithril armor gleaming brilliantly in the light of the sun. The citizens of the multi-racial elven city crowded tightly behind the guards, singing their mournful, haunting lament as the mile-long procession began its slow trek toward the central World Tree.
As the procession finally reached the base of the massive Mother Tree, a sudden, ethereal voice pierced the mourning silence, echoing throughout the entire metropolis."
In these troubled times, I bring the people of this country a proclamation."
Manifesting beside the bark of the Mother Tree was the shimmering image of a young, green-skinned girl. Vines covered in lush leaves served as her hair, and her form was completely uncovered save for three large leaves naturally protecting her most intimate areas. The entire populace instantly knew who this was, though she only appeared to the kingdom on rare, world-altering occasions—it was the Dryad. She was the sacred spirit who normally only revealed herself to the Queen of Beasts.
The Dryad’s voice rang out with absolute authority. "I hereby grant King Artwin Fay Befredon the temporary right to rule as Prince Regent of the Matriarchy, in place of the Beast Queen, until the true heir of the title comes of age."
The crowded citizens looked up in sheer shock, still grieving over the loss of the most powerful Queen in history. For the first time in the nation's records, a man had been officially named the ruler of the World Tree, even if it was only temporary.
King Artwin turned toward his people, completely suppressing his tears and heavy sobs so he could address the nation with the strength of a sovereign."
“People of Befredon, we must push through our sorrow!” King Artwin’s voice boomed across the roaring rings of the capital, echoing off the ancient bark of the World Tree. “Let this day be held forever immortal to honor High Queen Layressea Fay Befredon, and the absolute, crimson sacrifice she made to keep our populace shielded from the devastation of war! But our light has not been entirely extinguished. Hope still remains! The baby survived—the bloodline is secure! And hear me now, you hidden cowards of the underworld: our crown does not stand alone. An unbreakable, sovereign alliance with the Kingdom of Arcaneya has been formally struck! We will march together, side-by-side, to aggressively purge the growing threat of monsters across our lands and crush any treason that dares threaten our borders!”
The war was over, but the shadow across Befredon was only beginning to expand.
Three days prior, the deep wilderness of the Befredon forest breathed with a serene, untouched tranquility. Quiet, peaceful towns and elven villages dotted the woodland path, nestled safely beneath the shade of the ancient canopy. As the trail wound deeper into the woods, a colossal, mythic silhouette began to dominate the horizon—the central World Tree, a wooden titan measuring two thousand feet in diameter, its massive trunk towering straight up into the heavens until it pierced the very boundaries of space.
Approaching the base of the monumental tree, the sovereign capital city of Yggdrasil fanned out in a majestic, one-mile ring of living greenery. At the city's perimeter stood the massive outer barriers—gargantuan gates of solid cedar grown naturally right out of the fertile ground, their surfaces intricately etched with glowing, gold-enchanted magic runes.
Passing through the soundless gates revealed a sprawling, vibrant fantasy metropolis. A wide, meticulously crafted main cobblestone road served as the city's primary artery. Lining the path were living streetlamps—graceful wooden pillars grown directly from the earth, their curved tips cradling softly humming fay lights that illuminated the streets with a warm, magical glow.
Along both sides of the royal road stood houses, taverns, and merchant shops woven seamlessly out of living, growing trees. Elves, beast-folk, and citizens of various fantasy races crowded the paths, chatting warmly, shopping for enchanted wares, and going about their peaceful daily routines. It was a masterpiece of ancient druidic craft—a living city where it was completely impossible to tell where nature ended and artificial civilization began.
Moving deeper into the metropolis, the royal road led directly to the gates of the noble district. These interior barriers were grown in the exact same resplendent fashion as the rest of the city, shimmering with ancient protective runes. Beyond them resided the grand, sprawling manors of the elven high nobility. Most of the citizens walking these manicured paths belonged to the dominant race of Befredon Elves.
"The Befredon Elves were uniquely defined by a remarkable biological and spiritual law: they were born with two souls existing in a singular vessel—their own elven consciousness and a powerful beast soul. Until they reached their fiftieth-year adulthood milestone, their bodies physically manifested the animal ears and tails of their synchronized beast soul. As the noble lords and ladies went about their daily affairs, a brilliant array of furry wolf tails, sleek fox ears, and feline features flickered beneath their silk robes.
Passing through the bustling noble quarter, the road finally culminated at the base of the grand sovereign stronghold: Ellassara Castle.
True to the architectural spirit of Yggdrasil, the magnificent castle was not built from severed stone or timber. It was grown directly out of the living bark of the World Tree itself, raised on a far grander and more intimidating scale than any surrounding manor. Its monumental central spire soared six hundred feet straight up into the air, completely integrated into the tree's trunk. Elegant balconies and sweeping royal terraces ran along its entire height, branching out like natural canopies that jutted gracefully over the bustling city below.
Approaching the stronghold, the magnificent castle gates gleamed, trimmed in a resplendent orichalcum leaf design around their borders. Passing through, the path led into the grand audience courtyard. Inside, a lush leafy canopy served as a natural ceiling, woven directly from massive trees whose trunks functioned as colossal columns lining the central hall space, spaced exactly ten paces apart. At the far end of this monumental hall stood the earthen throne, grown straight from the ground it sat upon. The throne was crowned by its own vibrant canopy of shimmering silver leaves and blooming pink flowers.
There, seated upon the throne, was the High Queen of Befredon, looking breathtaking in a resplendent purple gown. The dress was trimmed with protective orichalcum spell runes and flowing elven script woven directly along its borders. She sat with her long, snow-white hair flowing down across her front, intricately braided with gold and silver cords along its length. Resting heavily right behind her throne was her fully manifested snow-white Polar Bear beast soul . The creature was colossal, fast asleep as its massive chest rose and fell, its immense frame looking far more like a towering, fur-covered small hill than a living beast
Standing to her left was a truly ancient elf with floppy, silver-furred ears and a puffy silver-furred tail. In stark contrast to his beast traits, he possessed short black hair, matching black eyebrows, and deep, knowing purple eyes that shone with the wisdom of his advanced years. This man was Prime Minister Subwin Dah Silverwood—a legendary statesman who possessed the Blessing of Infinity and had faithfully served the royal family for the past sixteen thousand years.
Standing to the Queen's right was Head Maid Melawin Dah Ironbark. At 147 years old, she had already passed her adulthood milestone and successfully separated from her beast soul, yet her short, vibrant pink hair perfectly matched the exact color of the flowers blooming over the earthen throne. She was rather short for an elf and possessed a notably large bust, dressed in a traditional Western-style maid outfit. On her shoulder perched a small, twitching raccoon beast companion, and she kept herself quietly busy preparing a fresh pot of hot tea for the court.
Suddenly, the ambient mana inside the massive audience hall crystallized, warping the open air. Manifesting silently right before the earthen throne was a green-skinned girl, her hair a cascade of living vines covered in lush leaves.
The entire throne room froze. Prime Minister Subwin and Head Maid Melawin stood perfectly still, their senses entirely blind to the entity's presence. In fact, no one in the grand hall seemed capable of noticing the girl’s sudden entrance or eventual departure—no one except the Queen herself. This was the Dryad, a legendary cosmic spirit who normally only appeared before the true Queen of Beasts on the rarest of occasions.
The green-skinned girl fixed her gaze on Layressea and spoke in a deeply grave, echoing tone. "The prophecy is upon us."
Queen Layressea nodded slightly, her expression unyielding. Her Unique Skill: Foresight had already given her glimpses of the shifting timelines. She knew precisely what this visitation meant
Turning to her Prime Minister, her voice rang with cold, imperial authority. "Subwin, evacuate the entire city immediately into the secure basement levels of the castle. Furthermore, send urgent messages to all surrounding portals—order the peripheral populations to take refuge in their nearest towns or villages. You and the citizens are not to leave the shelter until the barriers around the capital city are completely deactivated."
Before Subwin could reply, the Queen raised a clawed finger and whistled softly, calling for her husband's beast soul. Emerging from the massive shadow of the sleeping Polar Bear, the midnight-black form of King Artwin's Dire Wolf stepped forward, its ears pinned back.
Layressea looked down into the wolf's eyes, her gaze softening only for a fraction of a second. "You are to return to my husband's side at once."
Extending her hand, she began weaving a specialized, high-tier temporal enchantment directly into the Dire Wolf’s spiritual core. The active spell ensured that the exact moment the beast soul successfully returned to King Artwin miles away in Arcaneya, it would hit his mind with a violent, terrifyingly prophetic nightmare vision of the World Tree engulfed in flames.
Subwin looked up at his Queen in absolute disbelief, his ancient purple eyes widening. "My Queen... why is all of this necessary? What is happening?"
Queen Layressea turned her face back toward the open expanse of her audience hall, her eyes hardening into a cold, unbreakable steel as she sensed the approaching malicious signatures.
"It seems we have some unwelcome guests," the Queen answered calmly, resting her hands over her pregnant stomach as her mana began to hum. "And I will absolutely not risk the lives of my people when their only target is me. A Sovereign’s absolute duty is to protect the prosperity and the lives of her citizens."
As she spoke, Layressea closed her eyes and unleashed her [Jade Palace]. Pushing her immense mana pool to its absolute threshold, she didn't just cast a single shield over the royal courtyard. Instead, she extended her protection across the entire realm, locking a massive, impenetrable defensive barrier's around every single town and city within the vast boundaries of the Befredon forest. It was an unprecedented display of god-like protection, prioritizing the safety of every single subject in her kingdom before she faced her killers alone.
She turned back to Subwin. "Kristorf will be here in three days. Do as he says."
She then turned to her right. "Melawin," Layressea spoke, her voice dropping to a soft, deeply intimate tone as she placed a gentle hand over her pregnant stomach. "When my daughter is born, she will need you. Watch over her. Protect her from the vipers in the court. Feed her and raise her as if she were your own blood."
Head Maid Melawin Dah Analight dropped to her knees, her large chest heaving as tears finally spilled from her eyes. The small raccoon beast companion on her shoulder let out a sorrowful, trembling whine, sensing the crushing weight of the moment.
"I swear it upon my life and my soul, my Queen," Melawin choked out, bowing her pink-haired head until it touched the smooth wooden floor of the earthen throne. "I will protect the princess with everything I am."
With her final, vital commands delivered, Queen Layressea Fay Befredon didn't waste another second. Her Space Magic flared, coating her royal purple gown in a shimmering, unstable silver aura. In a blink of light, she vanished from the 600-foot spire of Ellassara Castle, leaving the ancient Prime Minister and the weeping Head Maid behind to execute the mass evacuation.
Meanwhile, a mere quarter of a mile outside the majestic grown cedar gates of Yggdrasil, an army of one thousand elite vanguard soldiers marched in terrifying, synchronized silence. Leading this treasonous force toward the capital was a striking duo—foremost among them was Kogna, the 3rd Pillar of the world. Though only fifteen years old, the hyper-lethal Ratman beast-kin stood at an agile, compact height of one and a half meters. His lean frame was covered in coarse brown fur, broken only by a distinct, solid black patch over his right eye. He wore lightweight, shadow-enchanted black leather armor that shifted soundlessly with his rhythmic strides. Resting against each hip was a wicked, masterfully forged shortsword, their hilts capped with gleaming red sapphires that served as heavy combat counterweights.
The other towering entity walking beside him was none other than the 2nd Pillar: the traitorous Dragon-Newt and former Crown Prince of Destrutia. This black-scaled terror was Gharindor Rrakeom Ironclaw. He possessed a terrifying, draconic face protruding heavily from his helm, his features framed by rigid armored crests, while his gleaming red eyes burned with a dark, malicious hunger as he gazed toward the city.
As they closed the distance to the city gates, Kogna looked up at the massive structures, his whiskers twitching anxiously as he spoke in a high, squeaky voice. "Do you really think we should have taken this job, Ghar? It seems kinda crazy to me."
Gharindor replied in a cruel, gravelly tone, not even breaking his stride. "Don't worry. Even if you die on this job, your what, three hundred kids will be taken care of. Your family will be paid, even if we are killed, as long as we pull this off."
Kogna glared at the massive draconic warrior, his teeth bared in an irritated scowl. "Fuck you, Ghar! I only have thirty kids, thank you very much! And they are exactly who I’m worried about. It's my family. If it's found out that I was involved in this, they will be banished from the Beast-Kin Sanctuary in Arcaneya. The beast-kin have long been protected by the elves from people who wanted to enslave us."
"Then why did you take this job?" Gharindor asked with a low, mocking grunt.
Kogna sighed, his hand shifting nervously toward the sapphire pommel of his shortsword. "Well... our client did offer us three hundred royal coins. Anyway, what do you think our chances of pulling this off are?"
Gharindor’s red eyes flashed with murderous certainty beneath his helm. "Pulling it off? One hundred percent. But as for us surviving through it? Ten percent."
Kogna let out a high-pitched snort of nervous laughter, trying to distract himself from the grim math. He looked sideways at the towering Dragon-Newt, his black eye-patch crinkling as curiosity took over. "Hey, Ghar... why commit a coup anyway? You were the literal Crown Prince of Destrutia. You already had it made."
Gharindor’s red eyes narrowed into slits of pure, resentful malice. A low, smoky hiss escaped the seams of his helm. "My father was taking too long to die. So I decided to take the throne by force."
He tightened his grip on his heavy armored gauntlets, the memory of his past failure causing his scales to ripple. "But the old man was stronger than me at the time. I was a young, arrogant lad of only one hundred and twenty-four years. My father completely overpowered me and banished me from the kingdom after that—even though I was vastly stronger than my brother."
"A coup at a hundred and twenty-four?" Kogna whistled through his teeth, adjusting the weight of his twin blades. "Yeah, family dinners must be real awkward in Destrutia now."
"There are no dinners," Gharindor muttered coldly, his gaze locking onto the tree line ahead as they approached the main gates of the city.
Suddenly, a deafening, explosive boom echoed from the entryway, shattering the quiet of the woods. The massive cedar gates burst violently open from the inside.Striding out through the splintering shockwave came the Queen. She was sitting proudly atop her monstrous, snow-white Polar Bear, the hill-sized beast baring its fangs and snarling furiously directly at the invaders.
Kogna felt a sudden, icy drop of cold sweat roll down his back as the 1st Pillar fixed her gaze upon them, her deep blue eyes glaring with absolute, murderous intent.
The Queen spoke, her majestic voice carrying an unyielding, rhythmic authority that cut through the wind. "I understand you, Gharindor. You have always wanted to challenge me for my seat as the First Pillar."
Gharindor cut the Queen off rudely, letting out a loud, mocking laugh as he gestured to the empty space behind her. "Where's your army, Queen?" he sneered. "You really think you can beat us all by yourself? Don't make me laugh."
The Queen completely ignored his taunts, leaving Gharindor to stew in his own rising fury. Instead, she shifted her focus entirely to Kogna. She fixed the young Ratman with a particularly scathing, heavy look, her voice erupting with a righteous, ancient rage.
"How dare you bite the hand that feeds you, Kogna?" the Queen roared, her aura violently flaring as her beast soul locked its sights onto the assassin. "We have protected your people for generations! Never mind... it doesn't matter. Your response is utterly meaningless. Just know I’m going to make your death practically painful, and I will see to it that your entire race is banished from the Sanctuary."
The Queen was intentionally trying to rile Kogna up, aiming to bait the hot-tempered prodigy into doing something foolish.
Before the two rogue warlords could even process her words, a cataclysmic blast of pure killing intent erupted from her. Kogna and Gharindor barely reacted in time. With a single, sharp flex of her Slot 02 [Grasping Roots], colossal roots burst violently through the cobblestones and dirt.
Kogna and Gharindor were the only ones possessing the god-tier reflexes to draw their weapons in time, desperately slashing downward to cut the roots before the crushing wood could anchor onto their legs.
But what happened next took them by complete, absolute surprise.
In a blinding flash of Space Magic, the fabric of reality tore open. A split-second later, they suddenly found themselves standing in a vast, pristine forest clearing located exactly ten miles away from the city. Queen Layressea loomed before them, her elven form instantly dissolving as she manifested her massive, mountain-like Polar Bear beast form.
Just as the two warlords scrambled to take in their entirely new surroundings, a horrific sound echoed behind them. The remaining one thousand elite vanguard soldiers had materialized with them, but they were already completely caught in the trap. The massive, ancient roots of the clearing constricted with terrifying, grinding velocity—instantly crushing all one thousand vanguard soldiers into an unspeakable, mangled state completely unfit for TV viewing.
Driven by an explosive cocktail of raw, blinding fury and sheer terror, Kogna charged the Queen. Behind him, Gharindor didn't move an inch, merely watching the reckless advance with a cold, mocking sneer.
What followed was a flurry of combat exchanges so inhumanly fast that the mortal eye could not track them. The 15-year-old Ratman’s [God Class] Dexterity engaged at absolute peak output. His twin sapphire-weighted shortswords didn't just blur—they transformed into a supersonic, whistling wall of lethal steel. Utilizing his elite Emperor-tier Rogue skills, Kogna initiated a specialized phase-dash, his shadow-enchanted armor causing his physical form to flicker into three distinct, after-image mirages as he blitzed her from the left flank, aiming directly for the massive Polar Bear’s blind spot.
Yet, despite his god-tier velocity, he failed to land a single blow.
Queen Layressea countered every frantic strike flawlessly. The moment Kogna’s twin blades sliced inward to sever her neck tendons, her massive form dissolved into a blinding ripple of jade light. She utilized Slot 01 [Blink], instantly phase-stepping her colossal mass exactly three meters to the right. Kogna’s sapphire pommels whistled through empty air, but his God-tier reflexes allowed him to forcefully twist his momentum mid-air, firing a volley of dark, concealed rogue throwing daggers straight into her flank.
The Queen didn't even bother to dodge. With a sharp exhale, she flared her massive aura force field. The daggers struck the invisible wall of her dense, radioactive Touki and violently shattered into metallic dust before touching her fur.
“Too slow, little rat,” Layressea’s voice echoed directly inside his neural pathways.
Before his boots could touch the grass, she executed a rapid swipe of her colossal front paw. The kinetic back-pressure of her [Demigod] Strength warped the atmospheric pressure, creating a localized vacuum wave. Kogna crossed his blades in a desperate rogue parry, utilizing his Emperor-tier martial agility to ride the shockwave, but the raw force still rattled right through his bone marrow, cracking his leather gauntlets and sending him skidding fifty meters across the dirt.
Pant-breathing, his whiskers twitching erratically, Kogna realized he couldn't touch her in close quarters. He triggered his ultimate rogue crowd-control ability, throwing down a series of explosive smoke pellets while siphoning his mana channels to cast a high-speed shadow-snare across the grass, attempting to blind her tracking senses.
It was an utterly useless strategy against a [Demigod Class] Druid.
Queen Layressea completely bypassed his rogue stealth. Her deep blue eyes didn't look through the smoke—her spatial matrix grid had already mapped his exact coordinates down to the millimeter. With a single, heavy stamp of her rear paw, she channeled Slot 02 [Grasping Roots].
The earth beneath Kogna's boots violently ruptured. He tried to rely on his God-tier hand-eye coordination to cleanly slice through the rising wood, his blades cutting three, four, five thick ironwood boughs into splinters within a fraction of a microsecond. But the sheer volume of the domain magic was infinite. For every root he severed, ten more erupted to replace them, stripping away his movement options and systematically choking out his evasion paths.
Suddenly, a massive root snared Kogna’s ankle mid-dash. With catastrophic force, it flung him skyward like a broken doll, shattering his shadow-enchanted armor. Before he could recover his bearings in mid-air, another root intercepted his descent, slamming him violently back toward the earth. Over and over again, the ancient wood caught him, battering his Emperor-tier frame mercilessly right before he could impact the hard ground, turning his hyper-lethal velocity into his own worst enemy.
Finally, a cluster of thick roots erupted directly beneath his broken frame, pinning him completely. The unyielding timber wrapped tightly around his remaining four limbs, hoisting him up and leaving him entirely bound, helpless, and completely exhausted. His jaw clenched tightly, his teeth chattering uncontrollably from pure fear.
The Queen loomed over him, her giant Polar Bear form projecting a terrifying, absolute dominance as she spoke in a freezing, merciless voice.
"Hey, Kogna. I have a deal for you. If you can endure what comes next without calling out, your people can stay in the Sanctuary."
Kogna looked up at the legendary monarch, gritting his teeth through the agonizing pain. Desperate to protect his thirty children and save his race from eternal banishment under the ironclad laws of the Three Degrees of Family Punishment, he gave a slow, trembling nod.
The Queen did not hesitate. Utilizing the crushing weight of her colossal paws, she began to rip his body completely in half, pulling from the bottom up with slow, agonizing deliberation.
Kogna's jaw locked like an iron vise. The raw, white-hot torment screamed through his nervous system, his muscles tearing and bones snapping as the Demigod's weight sheared his body apart. Blood filled his mouth, boiling past his lips, but he clamped his teeth down until they fractured. Not a single scream, cry, or vocal sob left his throat. He held the silence through absolute, legendary willpower. For his thirty children marooned back in the Chicago basin, he chose to suffer total, unmitigated horror in absolute silence—paying off his bloodline's debt to the Crown in a pool of his own crimson.
interlude girl and the dryad
With a sudden, violent gasp, the tiny princess jolted
The horrific image of the roaring Polar Bear and the shattering, blood-stained battlefield dissolved into a warm, gentle darkness. The thirty-five-year-old Earth man’s consciousness snapped awake, entirely disoriented. The sensory nightmare of the birth canal was finally over, but his adult mind was screaming in absolute panic.
He tried to raise a hand to rub his eyes, but instead of a normal arm, a tiny, uncoordinated pudgy limb flailed wildly into the air. He blinked hard, his new crystal blue eyes adjusting to a soft, radiant glow. He wasn't on a battlefield. He was tucked safely inside an elegantly carved, oversized wooden crib grown naturally right into the living master walls of a quiet palace room. Glowing fay lights hummed from the mossy branches above his head. Along the edge of the smooth cedar crib, jagged, gold-enchanted Nordic runes flickered softly, pulsing with a gentle defensive aura.
A few paces away, the glass doors stood open to a private balcony crafted from a massive, living branch of the World Tree grown naturally right out of the castle walls, letting in a cool night breeze that carried the faint, mournful echoes of the city's funeral lament. Resting peacefully in a large, grown-wooden rocking chair right by the balcony was Head Maid Melawin Dah Analight. Overcome by the grueling exhaustion of the mass evacuation and the tragedy of the night, she was fast asleep, her breathing slow and rhythmic as she subconsciously guarded the newborn princess. From her elevated vantage point, the living branch balcony looked straight out over the breathtaking, one-mile ring of the forest city of Yggdrasil, its tree-houses softly glowing in the dark canopy below.
Panicking, he tried to whip his head around to survey the rest of the room. Driven by the hidden instincts of his unawakened beast soul, his head naturally and fluidly over-rotated a staggering 180 degrees like a owl. His neck didn't snap, but the sheer, bizarre momentum caused his tiny face to slam straight into the plush fabric of the pillow, completely burying his nose in the soft cushion.
Oh, great. Fantastic. I’ve been reincarnated for thirty seconds, and I’m already going to smother myself to death because my neck is broken, his adult brain screamed in sheer embarrassment.
He braced himself for the suffocating darkness. But it never came.
Instead of a black void, he realized he could look straight through the tightly woven fibers of the pillowcase. His new crystal blue eyes flared with an unnatural light. Even with his face completely buried in the dark fabric, his vision pierced right through it, mapping out every single thread, the stitching of the mattress, and the layout of the room behind it with flawless precision. His awakened Night Vision attributes were so absurdly high that the pitch-black darkness of the pillow looked like broad daylight to his eyes
He blinked in absolute shock. Hold on... I can see in the dark? Like, perfectly? Why does the inside of a pillow look like a brightly lit office space?! This body is completely glitched!
Before his Earth-man brain could compute his terrifying new night vision, the ambient mana inside the room violently crystallized. The temperature dropped, and the air warped. Manifesting silently right on the edge of his wooden crib was a green-skinned girl . Her hair was a wild cascade of living vines covered in lush leaves, and she wore absolutely nothing but three strategically placed leaves to cover her most important bits
The reincarnated adult froze, his tiny infant face still partially smushed against the cushion as he stared up at her with clear, day-lit precision.
The Dryad leaned forward, resting her chin on her hands as she peered into the crib. Unlike her solemn public demeanor, her eyes danced with a highly teasing, mischievous spark.
"Well, you must be confused," the Dryad spoke, her tone dripping with playful amusement. "You must have a lot of questions. Well, you died. If you're wondering how... it wasn't glamorous or anything. You slipped on a patch of ice and fell straight onto a spiked fence that was guarding a tree. It pierced your skull, and you died instantly."
Inside the cushion, the Earth-man’s brain experienced a violent jolt of pure, unadulterated embarrassment. A spiked fence?! I died because of a patch of ice?! Are you freaking kidding me?!
The Dryad chuckled, completely reading the panic on his smushed face. "Well, I would tell you about your current situation, but that's for you to figure out for yourself. But welcome to the world of Ranoka . You will find the answers you seek if you complete the Labyrinths."
WHACK!
A tiny, uncoordinated, flailing infant fist swung blindly through the air, smacking the cosmic nature spirit dead in the center of her nose.
The teasing, mischievous speech ground to an immediate, screeching halt.
The Dryad slowly blinked, her smug expression instantly crumbling. She crossed her eyes, looking down at her own green nose where the tiny pudgy knuckles had just made contact. For ten millon years, she had appeared only to the most powerful, stoic, and terrifying rulers in the history of the galaxy. No one had ever punched her in the face before—let alone a newborn infant whose head was still half-buried in a pillow.
"You..." the Dryad muttered, her teasing aura deflating as she rubbed her sore nose
"You are a very strange child. I'm leaving."
With a rustle of leaves and a quiet puff of natural mana, the green-skinned spirit violently vanished into thin air.
The sudden, explosive pop of mana snapping out of existence sent a jolt of pure shock through the baby's raw nervous system. Left completely stunned by her abrupt disappearance, the reincarnated adult lost total control of his voice and let out a loud, high-pitched infant cry of pure shock.
"WAAAHHH!"
The sharp, echoing wail instantly shattered the silence of the bedroom.
Over by the balcony, Head Maid Melawin bolted upright in the rocking chair, her short pink hair ruffling as she snapped out of her heavy sleep. The small raccoon beast companion on her shoulder woke up with a start, its whiskers twitching in panic. Melawin rubbed her eyes, blinking rapidly as her culinary and caretaker instincts took over. Hearing the frantic cries from the crib, she scrambled to her feet, her large bust heaving as she hurried over to the wooden bassinet.
"Oh, hush now, little princess, I'm here!" Melawin cooed softly, her face softening into a warm, tired smile as she leaned over the edge of the crib. She gently scooped the crying purple-haired infant into her arms, completely mistaking the adult's sheer shock for simple newborn hunger. "You must be absolutely famished after everything that happened tonight. Let's get you fed, shall we?"
Inside her warm embrace, the thirty-five-year-old Earth-man brain instantly froze, the loud crying screeching to a sudden, dead stop. His crystal blue eyes widened in pure, unadulterated horror as he realized exactly what a wet nurse's job description actually
Wait. Wait, wait, wait! No! I'm not hungry! I was just startled by the leaf-teleportation pop! Put me down! Please put me down! I don't want to be fed! Oh god, system, please log me out! Log me out right now!
But his pathetic baby limbs just flailed uselessly against her apron as Melawin gently settled back into the rocking chair, entirely unaware of the absolute existential crisis screaming inside the mind of the First Princess of Befredon