The revelation that Dr. Aris Thorne was behind the blight settled over the lab like a cloud. This wasn’t a random disaster; it was a carefully orchestrated attack by a brilliant, evil mind.

“If Thorne is here, he’s watching,” Jonah said, pacing the length of the room. “He’ll be tracking our movements, studying our methods. He’s treating this whole province like his personal petri dish.”

“Then we must be cautious,” Vanessa added, her fingers tracing a glowing rune on her console. “He’ll have magical traps, surveillance spells…”

Lira, who had been standing silently by the window, turned to face them. The pain in her eyes had been replaced by a focused intensity. “Science can only take us so far. We know the blight is intelligent. It has a consciousness, even if it is a corrupted one. It has a voice.”

She took a deep breath. “I can follow its scream.”

Master Fen paused in the middle of pouring a bubbling blue liquid. “Follow its… scream? My dear girl, that sounds delightfully unscientific.”

“The life of this forest has been twisted into a constant cry of pain,” Lira explained, her voice soft but steady. “It is loudest at its heart. I can’t see it or hear it with my ears, but I can feel it. I can lead us to the source.”

Jonah looked at her, then at the map. A traditional search would take weeks, and they’d be walking into Thorne’s traps the entire time. Lira’s method was a long shot, but it was their best one.

“Alright,” he said. “You’re our guide.”

Just then, the door to their lab opened. Draven stood there, dressed in light combat armor, his greatsword strapped to his back. “Seraph sent me,” he said, his voice a low rumble. “She said you might need someone to handle the heavy lifting.”

Jonah couldn’t help but smile. “Your timing is perfect.”

_______________________________________

Going deep into the blighted forest was like walking into a nightmare. The path was a maze of thorny vines and skeletal branches. The air was thick and smelled of rot and sickly flowers. Lira walked at the front, her eyes closed, one hand outstretched as if feeling an invisible current.

“This way,” she’d whisper, turning down a path that looked no different from any other. “The pain is stronger here.”

They were not alone. The forest watched them with a thousand unseen eyes, and it fought back.

CRACK!

A thick, thorny vine, as wide as a man’s arm, whipped out from the ground, aiming for Master Fen.

“Look out!” Vanessa yelled.

Before it could connect, a massive, stone-hide fist smashed into it.

CRUNCH!

Maul, Jonah’s brute, stood over the broken vine and growled. It was a walking wall of muscle and rage, its red eyes scanning the trees for the next threat.

“Stay close to the big guy, Professor,” Draven said, his own greatsword now glowing in his hand.

The attacks grew more frequent. Corrupted boars with bark-like skin and thorn-covered tusks charged from the shadows. Flocks of birds with twisted wings and venomous eyes dive-bombed them.

It was a relentless, exhausting battle. Draven and Maul formed an unbreakable front line, a whirlwind of smashing fists and swinging steel.

SLICE!

Draven cut a Thorned Horror in half with an elegant swing of his blade.

“There’s too many of them!”

“Specter!” Jonah commanded through his mind.

A shimmer of displaced air was the only sign of his Phantom Weaver. In the shadows, a corrupted wolf that was about to pounce on Lira suddenly froze, letting out a choked gurgle before collapsing, a razor-thin cut across its neck. One by one, the flanking threats were neutralized before they could even attack.

While the titans held the line, the ghost cleaned the edges.

Vanessa threw up glowing force fields, hexagonal plates of blue light that deflected sprays of acidic thorns.

PING! PING! PING!

Master Fen, surprisingly agile, moved between his protectors, occasionally throwing a small vial that would erupt in a flash of foul-smelling smoke, causing the monsters to recoil.

“Their cellular structure is unstable!” he said, scooping up a sample of monster blood. “Fascinating! Thorne’s work is brilliant, but sloppy!”

For hours, they pushed deeper into the hostile territory. The constant pressure was exhausting. The scream that only Lira could feel was growing louder, becoming a psychic roar.

“We’re close,” she gasped, stumbling slightly. Jonah caught her arm. “The heart… it’s just ahead.”

Maul and Draven smashed through a thick wall of thorny vines, revealing a large, unnatural clearing.

And in the center of it, they saw it.

It was a tree, but it was a monstrous one. Its trunk was huge and gnarled, the bark a sickly grey and pulsing with a faint purple light. Vicious, black thorns, each as long as a sword, grew from its branches. Its massive roots were like corrupted veins, spreading out across the clearing and actively turning the ground black and dead wherever they touched.

The air around it was filled with power, a tangible aura of wrongness that made the hair on Jonah’s arms stand up. This was the source. The Blight-Heart. Thorne’s masterpiece.

The team stepped into the clearing, their weapons ready. The angry silence was unnerving. All the monsters were gone, as if this place were too sacred or too terrible even for them.

As they took a cautious step closer to the monstrous tree, a voice echoed from its high canopy. It was calm, amplified, and filled with the curiosity of a scientist observing a new specimen.

“So, the little Saint and his team have come to see my work.”

Jonah and the others looked up.

Standing on a high, thick branch, looking down on them as if they were ants, was a man in a long, dark coat. His hair was neatly combed, and his face held a calm expression.

Dr. Aris Thorne.

“Do you find it beautiful?” he asked, a thin smile playing on his lips. “I have been watching your progress. You are far more resilient than my previous test subjects.”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep