“What are you doing, you worthless no-ear?” Aaron spat, his voice dripping with disdain as he glared at the scholar. “Do what you were told and burn this prison down.”

  Prison, you say? That’s quite an extreme opinion about your own World Tree. I thought, my vision flickering as pain coursed through my body.

  The scholar stood motionless, black blood oozing from his eyes, nose, and mouth like a grotesque fountain.

  “Tch,” Aaron clicked his tongue, irritation painted on his face. “To think I’d have to rely on a no-ear like you, only to end up cleaning up your damn mess.”

  His gaze dropped to the scholar’s left hand, and a sneer twisted his lips. “What a joke.”

  Without hesitation, Aaron drove his blade into the scholar’s chest. But it couldn't pierce through the scholar's left hand.

  “Why don’t you just die and finish your role already?”

  *Ding

  [Full body restoration activated]

  “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

  Standing up as my bones mended and my flesh regenerated felt as pleasant as an unreachable itch. Simplely horrible.

  “What?” Aaron spun toward me, his eyes wide. “How are you still alive?”

  “You think I’d explain anything to an enemy?” I sighed, cracking my neck slightly. “Boy, you’re dumber than I gave you credit for.”

  His glare turned venomous as I continued. “But to think you have a Skill that lets you change your appearance. Well, color me surprised.”

  Curiosity got the better of me, and I inspected him. [Level ???].

  Of course.

  “Wow,” I sneered, meeting his hate-filled gaze. “Your level is much higher than mine. This is going to be fun.”

  Aaron’s stance shifted instantly. He pulled back his blade and took a defensive posture, his eyes narrowing as he likely checked my level in turn. When his focus locked back on me, his expression hardened, and he barked a command to the mutated scholar.

  “Pawn, attack him!”

  I couldn’t help but chuckle.

  “What’s so damn funny?” Aaron snarled.

  “You.” The word barely left my mouth before the scholar’s massive hand shot out, grabbing Aaron and locking him in a cage of flesh and bone.

  I had successfully distracted him long enough for the scholar's hunger to kick in.

  “What the? The hell are you doing, you lowly no-ear? Unhand me at once!” Aaron thrashed against the scholar’s grip, his voice rising in anger.

  The scholar’s cracked and swollen jaw began to stretch unnaturally wide, his intent clear. Aaron’s panic escalated as he conjured a flurry of glowing Mana knives and drove them into the scholar’s body. The blades slashed and stabbed relentlessly, but the scholar didn’t even flinch. His sole focus remained on his prey, his mouth opening wider and wider.

  It was almost funny, in a way.

  Aaron was panicking so much that he ignored the most basic rule of combat: always aim for the vital points. Sure, knives flying everywhere looked dramatic and kind of cool, but they were utterly useless against a monster like this.

  Despite being higher-leveled than both of us, Aaron should have been able to kill us with ease. But he didn’t. He hadn’t cut my head off when he had the chance, nor was he aiming for the scholar’s vital points.

  It was an odd choice. One he was going to pay dearly for.

  The scholar’s jaw stretched to a grotesque degree, almost like an anaconda preparing to devour its prey. In a sickening moment, he chomped down on Aaron’s head. The wet sound of chewing flesh and crushing bone echoed through the sanctuary's core.

  I stood back, watching silently.

  My hypothesis seemed to hold true. Leveling up in this world didn’t inherently enhance physical endurance or toughness. The fact that the scholar could bite through Aaron with ease, whose level was significantly higher, made that crystal clear.

  I weighed the options quickly when I smashed into the wall.

  Saving Aaron, thus preventing the scholar from healing, had its merits. But letting Aaron die offered far more. It removed the threat of a shapeshifter and granted me a weapon — his sword.

  The downside? Losing a potential lead on the Demonic Arts users. But considering their ways of doing things, combined with the System’s subquest promising a clue as a reward, it seemed far wiser to let Aaron die here.

  Eliminating a future threat outweighed any short-term gain.

  [Four Directional Protectors Arts – Movement technique – Tail of the White Tiger]

  I dashed forward, seizing the sword while the scholar was preoccupied with his feast. It seemed he lacked the knowledge, or perhaps the capacity, to use Demonic Qi to absorb life force directly. That small blessing granted me a few precious seconds to prepare.

  Without hesitation, I used White Tiger and darted away, putting distance between us. As the scholar twisted around, now aware of my movement, I snapped my arm.

  *Ding

  [Full body restoration activated]

  Using Qi alone wasn’t enough to pierce through the scholar’s mutated body. But when combined with a well-crafted weapon, Qi became a force multiplier.

  Qi was like doping for anything it touched. If Qi alone had a power level of two, adding a weapon into the equation increased it to six — tripling the output.

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  Theoretically, with an indestructible item and unlimited Qi, its power could climb to infinity.

  Lucky for me, I already had half of the equation in my grasp.

  I channeled Qi into the blade relentlessly. The navy-blue energy surged through the weapon, making it hum faintly. As the Qi reserve in my core dwindled, I drove the sword into my own arm, forcing a fresh supply to flow into my core as my body healed.

  I repeated the cycle, pouring Qi into the weapon until cracks began to form along its surface.

  By now, the scholar had devoured every last piece of Aaron. His grotesque form turned toward me with renewed vigor. Every wound I had inflicted earlier was gone, and there were no longer any signs of his life force running out.

  He roared with the same feral intensity as when this battle had begun.

  This ends now.

  [Four Directional Protectors Arts – Movement technique – Tail of the White Tiger]

  I stomped heavily, driving all my momentum into a single, unrelenting charge. No skating across the snow to prevent slipping, no holding back to control my movement. Just raw, unfiltered power, propelling me forward like a supersonic jet.

  Before the scholar could react, I had already reached him.

  Gripping the sword with both hands, I thrust it forward. A simple thrust. A technique honed through countless repetitions, failures, and victories.

  [Four Directional Protectors Arts – Piercing technique – Breathe of the Blue Dragon]

  In a split second, the sword in my hands became an unstoppable force, piercing through the scholar’s chest with devastating destruction. Rampant Qi surged from the blade, erupting inside him and obliterating every organ.

  I released the crumbling sword and stepped back, watching as the attack mercilessly tore through his hands and the fragile flower embroidery he had protected so fiercely. A gaping hole, the size of a soccer ball, now marred his chest.

  Two lines of blood trailed down from his eyes like tears as he murmured the names of his loved ones for one final time, his voice cracking under the weight of his sorrow.

  “Lin...cy…N...i…N...a…”

  The scholar collapsed, leaving behind the cold, lifeless remains of a man who had once been a devoted husband and father.

  In the end, he never had a second element. That left hand, the only part of him that remained unmutated, had been solely for protecting a fragile flower.

  “May you rest in peace.” I knelt beside him and closed his eyes.

  There was more to this man than being a discarded pawn, but I had no time to linger on that thought. The World Tree was still under threat, and saving it was my priority now.

  I sprinted out of the sanctuary and down the stairs, shouting, “It’s all clear now. We can begin the ritual!”

  “Okay!” Elfina called back, racing up the stairs. Behind her, Thnari, Zenth, and the other Elves hurriedly prepared the ritual.

  As I watched their movements, a troubling thought crept into my mind.

  How did Aaron get past all these people to stab me in the back? Were they all in on it?

  No, that didn’t make sense. If the Elf wanted their World Tree to die, they wouldn’t have asked for my help in the first place. None of them even seemed to realize Aaron had been up there.

  Which meant one thing. Someone else helped him get to me unnoticed.

  I recalled the scholar’s desperate screams at the start of our fight. He had said he was ordered to sacrifice himself.

  The lingering question was how he had received that order and, more importantly, from whom.

  In this world, where people still relied on messaging animals like dogs or owls for communication, so it was likely the scholar had been informed directly. The chances of a discarded pawn possessing a long-range communication device — something even a professor didn’t have — were incredibly slim.

  The conclusion was clear. Another enemy was still out there, lurking in the shadows.

  Two key clues stood out, narrowing the possibilities.

  First, there was no logical reason to assign two people to manage the same task in a village like this — it would only complicate matters.

  Second, the third party would have needed a plausible reason to interact with Aaron without raising suspicion.

  Considering those points, the most probable conclusion was that this enemy was a member of the expedition team.

  Then there was the timing.

  Aaron had arrived mere moments before the scholar’s death. This suggested the third enemy had been close enough to sense the scholar’s condition but far enough away to avoid attention when they sent Aaron to intervene.

  “Let’s do this.”

  Elfina’s voice cut through my thoughts, pulling my focus back to the present.

  She stood before me, her posture firm and unwavering. Her eyes burned with resolve, and though her hands still clutched her staff tightly, the trembling hesitation from earlier was gone.

  I couldn’t help but smile. She’d shaken off her earlier despair, her inner strength shining through once more.

  “Hold on tight,” I said, scooping her up and slinging her over my shoulder in one swift motion. “It’s faster and safer this way.”

  That wasn’t an exaggeration. Demonic Qi had already flooded the stairwell behind us, turning it into a death trap.

  “Not again,” she grumbled, though she didn’t put up a fight as I carried her.

  Without wasting another moment, I dashed forward, racing toward the sanctuary’s core as fast as possible.

  Tendrils made from Demonic Qi shot at us, each one dissolving into nothingness as I devoured them with brutal efficiency.

  Within seconds, we burst through the crimson wall ahead, landing under the dying dome once again.

  Elfina ran toward the altar the moment I put her down. She only stopped when she reached the scholar’s lifeless body. Her gaze lingered over the fallen figure.

  “…Is this the Fiend Forger you fought?” she asked, her tone tinged with unease.

  Her question gave me a glimpse of what the Fiend Forgers were.

  “No,” I said, shaking my head. “Just another victim.”

  Her eyes rested on the scholar’s corpse for a moment longer before she clasped her hands together in prayer. Her voice was soft but steady as she spoke, “May your soul return to The Great Tree and find peace in the Guardians’ embrace.”

  Once she finished her prayer, she wasted no time sitting down before the altar.

  The altar itself was simple yet solemn. Two candles flickered gently on either side, their light casting elongated shadows. A handheld bronze bell rested in the center, and next to it was a small clay bowl filled with rich, dark soil.

  Elfina reached for the bell. With a steady hand, she began ringing it in a rhythmic pattern, the soft chime echoing through the sanctuary.

  Then she began to sing.

  Her voice carried the same melody I’d heard the Frost Elves sing at the festival’s conclusion — a hauntingly beautiful song steeped in tradition.

  As if her singing was a signal, the Elves outside joined in, their voices rising together in a harmonious chorus. The combined sound swelled, resonating through the sanctuary’s core with a power that felt almost tangible.

  *Ding

  [Harmony tuned]

  The dome above us responded in kind, lighting up with an ethereal glow.

  Strange runes, unlike anything I had ever seen before, appeared on its surface. They shifted and moved in intricate patterns, forming an ever-changing formation that defied comprehension. The runes danced, each transformation flowing seamlessly into the next, as though the dome itself were alive.

  I focused intently on the formation, unwilling to let such a rare opportunity slip by.

  Blood trickled from my nose, my eyes burned like fire, and my head throbbed as if it were being smashed by a sledgehammer. But I refused to blink, pushing past the pain as I analyzed and deciphered the Runes dancing across the dome.

  When the song reached its final notes, the spinning formation above came to an abrupt halt.

  Taking this as her cue, Elfina carefully placed the bronze bell back onto the altar and reached for the clay bowl.

  “Oh, Great Tree,” she intoned, lifting the bowl high above her head, “leave your withered flesh behind and be reborn anew.”

  At the center of the intricate Rune formation, golden light began to condense. It shimmered and swirled, shrinking into a single droplet of radiance. The droplet descended with grace, as though guided by an unseen hand, and fell into the clay bowl as if it belonged there.

  But it wasn’t a mere droplet. No. It was a seed.

  A World Tree seed.

  The bowl itself began to shine faintly, the rich soil within cradling the seed as it settled. The light from the seed and the bowl intertwined, creating a moment of serenity.

  Yet, from what I had deciphered of the Runes, I knew this was far from over.

  Suddenly, Elfina’s expression changed. Her face paled, her lips parting in a silent gasp as she listened. The World Tree had spoken to her — something only she could understand.

  Distress flickered across her face as she looked up at the glowing dome.

  “Great Tree, please don’t give up,” her voice trembling. “You must live for the world.”

  Pressing her hands together, she closed her eyes and began to pray.

  *Ding

  [World Walker’s Comprehension Level up: Level 5 –> 6]

  “Elfina, I've found the problem,” I wasted not even a second and quickly called out to her.