God's Tree

He surged forward, blade dancing, each strike aimed with lethal precision.

The Hollowed Commander countered, its claws blurring through the air, striking with a force that could have shattered stone.

But Argolaith was faster.

Stronger.

His footwork was flawless, weaving between its attacks, his sword carving through tendons, joints, weak points.

Each strike—erasing.

Each wound—permanent.

The Hollowed could not heal.

And that was why it was afraid.

It roared, the sound shaking the battlefield.

The Hollowed horde trembled.

Malakar narrowed his gaze. "It is calling to something."

Kaelred, still fending off a swarm of lesser Hollowed, scowled. "Calling what?"

And then—

The monolith pulsed.

Argolaith felt it immediately—

A surge of unnatural energy rippling outward, like a second heartbeat thrumming through the valley.

The tree fragment above them trembled in its chains.

The Hollowed were still feeding into it.

Still corrupting it.

Kaelred's eyes widened. "They're still trying to finish whatever they started!"

Malakar raised a hand, sending a wave of necrotic fire into a cluster of Hollowed priests at the monolith's base, obliterating them instantly.

But it wasn't enough.

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Argolaith clenched his jaw.

They had to end this now.

The Hollowed Commander lunged again, this time not in wild fury, but with focused intent.

Argolaith met it head-on.

The moment before they collided, his blade pulsed, the runes along its edge igniting in a blinding golden-white light.

And then—

He struck.

A single, perfect cut.

Right across the Commander's chest.

The effect was instant.

The Hollowed Commander froze, its body locking in place.

Then—

Its entire form began to crack.

Fissures of pure light split through its twisted flesh, spreading outward like a shattering mirror.

It let out a final, guttural growl—

Not in pain.

But in realization.

And then—

It was gone.

Unmade.

Erased from existence.

The moment the Commander fell, the entire Hollowed horde reacted.

Some stumbled, confused.

Others collapsed entirely, as if their will to fight had been ripped from them.

Kaelred blinked. "Did we just win?"

Malakar smirked. "We took the head. Now the body withers."

Argolaith exhaled, his sword still glowing faintly in his grip.

The battle was not yet over.

But the tide had turned.

And the tree—

The tree could still be saved.

The battle was over.

Or at least—

It should have been.

Argolaith stood in the center of the battlefield, his sword still pulsing with the remnants of the energy that had unmade the Hollowed Commander.

All around him, the horde was unraveling.

Some Hollowed collapsed instantly, their bodies flickering out of existence the moment their leader had fallen.

Others stumbled, lost—as if their connection to something greater had been severed.

Kaelred wiped his daggers clean on the tunic of a fallen Hollowed, breathing hard. "So, uh… do we win now? Is this the part where we win?"

Malakar watched the battlefield with a calculating gaze. "Not yet."

The corrupted monolith was still standing.

Still pulsing.

And the fragment of Argolaith's tree remained chained above it, writhing as black veins of corruption continued to slither across its bark.

Kaelred scowled. "We took out their boss. Why is this thing still going?"

Malakar stepped forward, his violet flames flickering. "The corruption was never tied to the Commander alone. It is embedded in the monolith itself."

Argolaith studied the stone. Whatever was inside it, whatever had been fueling this corruption, was still alive.

Waiting.

Watching.

And it wasn't done.

The monolith shuddered, cracks spreading along its surface.

Then—

Something moved inside.

Not a creature.

Not another Hollowed.

But a mass of living corruption, tendrils of dark, writhing essence breaking free from the stone like a thousand grasping hands.

Kaelred took a step back. "Oh, you've gotta be kidding me."

The tendrils lashed outward, wrapping around the tree fragment, squeezing tighter.

Malakar's voice was calm. "It is trying to finish what the Hollowed started."

Argolaith didn't hesitate.

He moved.

His sword flashed, cutting through the nearest tendril.

The effect was instant.

Where his blade passed, the corruption didn't just fall away—it disintegrated, erased from existence.

The monolith shook violently, as if reacting to the loss.

More tendrils shot out, whipping toward him—faster, wilder.

But Argolaith was faster.

His movements were precise, instinctive—each slash cutting away another piece of the dark mass, severing its hold over the tree fragment.

And then—

The monolith let out a sound.

Not a voice.

Not a scream.

But a wail.

A deep, resonating sound of fury and fear.

Kaelred's eyes widened. "That thing's alive?"

Malakar's gaze darkened. "Not for long."

Argolaith stepped forward, his blade burning with light.

The monolith's surface cracked further, its tendrils weakening.

It was losing.

And it knew it.

With one final, powerful swing—

Argolaith drove his sword straight into the core of the monolith.

A blinding shockwave of golden light erupted outward, engulfing the battlefield.

The corruption screeched, its form unraveling, its tendrils disintegrating into nothing.

And then—

Silence.

The moment the monolith was destroyed, the chains holding the tree fragment snapped.

The broken piece of the tree floated downward, hovering just above the ground.

Its bark, once blackened and tainted, shimmered with renewed vitality.

Golden veins of pure lifeblood pulsed within it—a fragment restored.

Argolaith stepped closer, watching as the tree fragment pulsed in rhythm with his own heartbeat.

The second tree had not been fully claimed yet.

But this—

This was a piece of it.

And it was waiting for him.

Kaelred, still catching his breath, gave a weak laugh. "So… now do we win?"

Malakar smirked. "Yes. For now."

Argolaith reached out, placing his hand against the tree fragment.

The second tree's presence surged through him, not overwhelming, but welcoming.

It was not yet time to claim it.

But it was one step closer.

And for now—

That was enough.

The battlefield was silent.

The last echoes of the monolith's destruction had faded, the Hollowed had been erased, and the corrupted fragment of the second tree now floated before them.

It hovered just above the scorched earth, its bark renewed, golden veins pulsing faintly beneath its surface.

Argolaith watched it carefully, his breath steady.

Then—

The fragment began to rise.

The air shimmered around the fragment, rippling as if reality itself was shifting.

Then, without warning—

It vanished.

Not shattered.

Not burned.

Not consumed.

Just gone—fading in a blink, as though it had never been there at all.

Only the lingering distortion of teleportation magic remained in its place, flickering for the briefest of moments before fading into nothingness.

Kaelred blinked. "Wait—what? What just happened?"

Malakar, still watching the space where the fragment had disappeared, spoke calmly.

"The tree took it back."

Argolaith frowned. "It reclaimed its own?"

Malakar nodded. "It was never meant to remain here. This was only a stolen piece—detached, severed. The second tree has drawn it back to where it belongs."

Kaelred crossed his arms. "So… that's it? All that fighting, all that effort, and the tree just takes its piece and vanishes?"

Malakar smirked. "Would you rather it have rejected Argolaith entirely?"

Kaelred opened his mouth, then paused. "…Fair point."

Argolaith exhaled. "This means one thing."

Kaelred raised a brow. "Oh no. I already don't like where this is going."

Argolaith's golden eyes burned with determination.

"We need to keep moving."

The battle had ended, but their path was far from over.

The second tree still called to him—its presence strong, unwavering.

It was not here.

Not even close.

One million miles still lay ahead.

Kaelred sighed dramatically. "Yep. That's what I thought."

Malakar adjusted his cloak, already stepping forward. "Then we run again."

Kaelred groaned. "Oh, for the love of—why is it always running?!"

They moved swiftly, the shattered battlefield behind them fading into the distance.

The land remained hostile, scarred by something unnatural, but no more Hollowed stood in their way.

At least—not yet.

Argolaith focused on the distant pull of the second tree, letting it guide him forward.

The road ahead was long.

But he would reach it.

No matter what stood in his way.