Some plans he had made were so risky and unusual that even Kai had doubted them, despite knowing that nothing else was going to work. This was one of them.

Originally, he had intended to bring down the massive tree by burning its roots and weakening the earth around it. But the task had proven far harder than expected. He had backup plans—several, in fact—but in the end, he had decided to trust Elias instead. The old Magus was a variable, unpredictable, but had done nothing to arouse suspicion so far. Kai had deliberately kept him in the background, knowing full well Elias was used to leading, yet the man had not complained. That willingness to cooperate earned him Kai’s trust now, at the most critical moment.

Kai battled the writhing roots and the occasional fiends on the ground while Elias focused on preparing his spell. [Earthquake]—a sixth circle spell—required time, precision, and extensive preparation. The golems flanked Elias as guardians, with Sentinel taking the lead in shielding him from surging roots, weavers, and fiends. If the situation worsened, Kai was ready to assist with defensive spells, but for now, he was fully occupied.

The roots felt endless. By now, Kai had burned through what seemed like thousands, yet they regenerated relentlessly, twisting out of the blackened earth as fast as he could destroy them.

Frustration gnawed at him, but he pressed on. He continued throwing spells one after another. His second circle flame spells were barely slowing them. Gritting his teeth, he summoned a third circle spell.

A blazing disk of molten magma tore through the roots, incinerating them only for new tendrils to surge forward in their place.

As Kai took care of them, he stole a glance toward Elias.

The Magus stood tall, chanting the incantation with unwavering focus. Strands of raw mana coiled from both of his outstretched hands, burrowing deep into the ground. Sweat beaded on his brow, and his face had grown pale. Kai knew the spell’s cost would leave the man drained and barely able to stand afterward.

That was trust. And Kai honored it.

Turning his gaze toward his forces, he also saw that the battle on the flanks was nearly over. The treant had hurled wave after wave of weavers and twisted creatures against them, but at last, the tide seemed to have ended.

With the disciplined formation of soldiers, Enforcers, Mages, Paladins, mana cannons, and golems working in unison, his forces had held their ground. Casualties and injuries had been heavy, but they stood victorious, cutting down the last remnants of the treant’s twisted army.

Although he was proud of how they kept formation, in the back of his mind, he knew something else. This was only a temporary victory. Even if every weaver and fiend here was slain, the treant could summon more from the corrupted wilderness of Vanderfall. They were scattered everywhere. Unless the weaver—the treant itself—was destroyed, the war would drag on.

They had won battles. But the treant was the war.

As that grim thought settled, Elias staggered and slumped to the ground, his breathing ragged. Kai flew to his side and caught him as he wavered. The spell matrix still pulsed faintly between Elias’ palms.

“You good?” Kai asked quickly.

“It’s done.” Elias’ voice was hoarse. He turned to the side and spat on the floor. “The spell is ready. You can trigger it whenever you want, but don’t wait. I can’t hold it long.” He glanced up weakly. “Warn your forces. I don’t want them swallowed by the fissures.”

Kai nodded sharply and shot into the air. He spotted Killian, deep in the fray, cleaving through the armored hide of a stone lizard fiend.

“Killian!” Kai shouted as he descended. “Pull our people back. Get them away from the center. And send the rest of the explosive drones down the tunnels the golems dug.”

Killian hesitated briefly, not fully grasping the scope of the order, but then gave a crisp nod. The man knew better than to question whatever Kai had in mind. He’d trusted him ever since the beginning—blindly. And he knew it came handy in such situations.

Without another thought, he ascended again. If the [Earthquake] worked the way he hoped, they would be the final blow. Below, a supporting Mage guided the golems to drop the last of the drones into the tunnels.

The golems had served their purpose: distracting and entangling the roots underground. But their true task had always been to carve paths toward the treant’s main roots.

Seconds later, Killian’s voice rang out across the battlefield. “Lord Arzan, we’re ready!”

Kai’s response was immediate. “Burn them.”

The ground below trembled violently as the explosives detonated. Flames and shockwaves roared through the tunnels, consuming roots in blistering fire. The massive tree above groaned and shook violently.

At that moment, Elias unleashed [Earthquake]. An overwhelming surge of mana coursed from his frail body into the ground. Kai stayed airborne, his wind magic keeping him steady as the world below began to fracture. Sentinel and the other golems propped Elias up to keep him from collapsing.

The treant, in a last desperate act, retracted its roots from the surface and tried to lash out at Kai. The molten disk spell had already faded, and Kai hovered just out of reach, watching. The ground heaved and split. The fire still raged below, devouring the roots that were once its lifeline.

Kai could almost feel the treant’s panic. It tried to extend new roots, but the shaking ground tore them apart. There was nowhere left to go, nowhere to escape.

With every passing second, the quake intensified. Cracks split the earth like lightning bolts, racing toward the treant. Its enormous roots flailed wildly, writhing in primal fear as the world beneath it prepared to swallow it whole.

Kai simply hovered above, watching as thin cracks widened into gaping fissures, splitting the earth beneath the treant’s enormous bulk. The ground around it fractured violently, unable to bear the weight.

Not letting up, Kai ascended higher and conjured spheres of molten magma, launching them into the exposed holes where desperate roots clawed for stability. The regenerating tendrils that tried to anchor the treant against the earthquake burned and exploded into ash under the relentless assault.

Yes! It’s working, Kai thought as he saw how the treant had begun to tilt. More and more fissures spread like veins across the earth, radiating outward from the collapsing center.

The mighty trunk, once towering and indomitable, wavered like a dying beast.

The tremors intensified. With a last resounding crack, the final of the underground roots were wrenched free as the ground gave way completely. The treant toppled, crashing down with an awful noise that sent a massive shockwave rippling across the battlefield. For a moment, the entire area was covered with dust.

Kai didn’t wait. The moment the great corpse lay broken on the ground, he summoned the remaining drones linked to his mana signature. They shot through the air and obeyed his command, releasing the vials they carried.

In an exact pattern, the drones circled, scattering a golden liquid in a fine mist over the treant’s sprawling remains.

The substance clung to bark, branches, and splintered roots. Even as the treant weakly tried to lash out, dragging ruined roots across the ground, the struggle was already over. Once every inch of its massive frame was soaked, Kai held out a single finger. A small flame flickered to life at the tip. He took careful aim, then let it fly.

The fireball struck—and the reaction was instant. The flames roared across the soaked corpse in a heartbeat, engulfing it completely.

The treant ignited instantly. Its once-impervious bark, thick and ancient, was no match for the alchemical liquid. Kai knew it was only a matter of time now. With its roots severed, the great beast had no way to anchor or heal itself. It could do nothing but burn, powerless, awaiting its inevitable end.

A voice broke through his thoughts. “What was that liquid?” Elias rasped from behind.

Kai didn’t take his eyes off the inferno. “Pyrosene,” he said. “An alchemical essence. Normally used in top-grade pill refining, where the mixture has to be heated for months without burning away. It can also be used to create an alchemical phenomenon called the Endless Flame.” He gestured at the blazing corpse. “That’s what you’re looking at. Just one spark is enough to ignite it—and once it starts, it won’t stop. The treant will burn for hours, but the pain alone will finish it long before that. Without roots to draw strength, it’s already dead.”

Elias stared at the roaring flames and gave a slow nod. “So…it’s over?”

Kai finally exhaled, the weight of command easing from his shoulders. “Yes. We won.”

He turned toward the rear, where his forces had pulled back to safety. A few stray cracks and fissures had reached them, but thanks to the early warning, they had escaped serious harm. Across the battered field, Kai spotted Killian among the ranks, his armor scorched and dented, grinning in exhausted relief. Kai gave him a firm nod in return.

Releasing the last remnants of his active spells, Kai felt the draining pull of mana finally fade. His limbs heavy, he lowered himself to the ground and sat back hard against a jagged stone.

He breathed deep and hard. His entire body shook as the toll of the march, the constant ambushes and the harrowing battle caught up with him. Every cell of his being was exhausted.

And yet, beneath the exhaustion, a quiet sense of satisfaction settled over him. They had done it. The treant had fallen, and he had done it without sacrificing the core of his forces.

He had come far—farther than he ever thought possible. From a lone wanderer to the leader of a united force, shaping strategy and guiding men through horrors few could imagine.

As he sat there, a familiar feeling stirred inside him. A powerful energy building deep in his core. He had felt this before.

The call had come again. It was time. Time to reach the fourth circle.

***

Viscount Redmont stood on the walls, staring down with full focus at the dark, empty land outside. The ground was torn and barren, marked by the deep holes where the cursed roots had once crawled out.

For over a day now, the roots had pulled back for some unknown reason. It had been a huge relief for the Mages and soldiers who had stayed behind to fight them. Even Redmont himself, though too proud to say it aloud, felt the heaviness on his shoulders ease.

Because by now, the endless battle had worn them all down.

But the fact that the roots had retreated worried him just as much. It likely meant the treant had drawn its roots back to protect itself in battle. That meant Count Arzan had reached the monster. Redmont clenched his fists on the cold stone wall. Was the battle still going on? Was the Count still alive? Both the questions left him with a stupid headache.

A soldier standing beside him broke the silence. “My lord Redmont,” the bald man said, “the expedition will surely defeat the cursed treant. It’s been a day since the roots vanished. If the treant had won, the roots would have returned by now.”

Redmont nodded slightly, though the worry did not leave him.“I believe you’re right. Arzan’s forces are strong. That’s exactly why I’m still concerned.”

The soldier blinked in confusion. “What do you mean, my lord?”

Redmont kept his eyes on the dead land. “The men we sent are the best this kingdom has,” he said quietly. “The army may have larger numbers. The Archine Tower may have more Mages. But Count Arzan’s force is different. They are balanced in every way—soldiers, knights, Mages, Paladins, Clerics and even golems. And Arzan himself… he has knowledge far beyond his years and his rank due to his lineage.”

Redmont sighed deeply and tightened his grip on the wall. “If even that force struggles, it only shows how dangerous this enemy truly is.” Redmont turned toward the soldier with a small smile. “Do you know what the most important thing is in a war?” he asked.

The soldier hesitated, unsure of the answer. He opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, probably not knowing what to reply with. Redmont waited patiently, knowing the man had to speak his heart.

“Well?”

“Strength, my lord?”

Redmont shook his head. “Ah, no. Knowledge. A man with knowledge can plan, and a man who plans rarely loses. Arzan has both knowledge and the strength to use it. If even he cannot defeat the treant, then I fear for the kingdom’s future.” He looked out at the distant horizon. “The kingdom is not as strong as it once was. We don’t get men like Arzan very often.”

The soldier fell quiet, but curiosity got the better of him. “Does that mean House Redmont will support Count Arzan?”

Redmont paused, falling silent. The soldier quickly panicked.

“I didn’t mean to overstep, my lord. Please forgive me—”

“No, it’s fine,” Redmont interrupted gently. “I was just thinking. You’re right. If Arzan returns after killing the treant, House Redmont will support him fully. In both the Sylvan Enclave and the Assembly.”

Just as he spoke the words, Redmont froze. A strange wave of mystical energy swept over him. A clear voice echoed in his mind—it was Arzan’s voice.

Viscount Redmont, the treant has been burned. We suffered losses, but we are safe and will return soon. I only wished to tell you of our victory and give you peace of mind.

Then the voice vanished. Redmont stood still, eyes wide. For a moment, he wondered if he had imagined it. He blinked a couple of times, feeling the exhaustion of Arzan’s voice. Maybe it—but no—it had been real. Too real.

Slowly, a smile spread across his face.

The soldier beside him looked worried. “My lord, are you alright? What happened? You froze—what is it?”

Redmont turned to him, his eyes bright.“They’ve won.” He took a deep breath. “Count Arzan has defeated the cursed treant. We are free from the plague’s hold.” He straightened, voice strong and clear. “Inform everyone. When they return, I want every one of them to be given a hero’s welcome. They have saved our kingdom.”

***

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