Hand on the Withered Stump
Hand on the stump of the dead tree, I slowly steadied my breathing. Through my roots, I read the flow of the earth. I read the flow of the trees connected to the ground as well. It was murky. The true nature of the "toxin" Delik had mentioned—sticky residues of mana that stifled plant growth and choked the earth's breath.
Filthy, I murmured inwardly, channeling strength into my fingertips. I pushed a single drop of my pure energy into the dying tree's core.
Sizzle. Black mana clashed with green energy, producing an unpleasant friction sound. But it was only for a moment. Wherever my energy touched, the black mist purified and dispersed.
Crack, crackle. The dried bark peeled away, and tender light-green sprouts emerged from the cracks. It happened in an instant. The barren dead tree sprouted lush leaves in just a few seconds.
The newly reborn tree cast its shade over our heads.
"W-what is this…!"
"Impossible! The mana contamination meter…!"
The mages screamed and tumbled backward. The crystal orbs they held emitted blinding light before cracking with a sharp snap.
I indifferently withdrew my hand and looked at Delik.
"Feels refreshing now."
Delik gaped, alternating his gaze between the newly bloomed tree and me. Awe—or perhaps fear beyond that—filled his eyes.
"You… what in the world are you? This purification speed is beyond any ordinary druid… it defies reason."
Instead of answering, I shrugged. I'd just woken up in this strange body; I didn't know myself either.
"Who knows."
I muttered softly and surveyed my surroundings. As one tree came back to life, the surrounding earth began to stir. Dormant grass seeds lifted their heads, and blackened soil writhed to reclaim its original color. In other words, they were welcoming me.
That was when it happened.
"…Found you."
A low, gravelly voice. A long shadow stretched over the ruins' debris. The mages' faces drained of color in an instant. The earlier commotion vanished, replaced by instinctive terror gripping their bodies.
"Th-that voice…!"
Delik's voice trembled. Atop the crumbled city wall stood a figure in black robes, backlit by moonlight. Its gleaming eyes fixed on me.
"I suspected as much, but you really made it this far. The walking calamity that's been butchering Demon King's executives."
I tilted my head.
"Calamity? Me?"
She—it—slowly descended. Or was it a man? Gender was indistinguishable as it approached. Wherever its feet touched, the ground blackened and rotted. As if mocking the land I'd just purified.
"Now I see why Bellishian Drakar fled from you. He's sensitive, after all. Couldn't stomach the revolting stench of life."
As it extended a hand, the surrounding dead trees twisted into sharp thorn spears. The mages had already scattered in panic to the corners. In the silence of the ruins, the figure approached me with a grotesque laugh.
I calmly gazed at my lower body's roots.
…I could feel it. From underground, a very turbid energy emanating from the thing was transmitting through.
An unpleasant sensation. Revolting.
My expression soured.
"Hey."
I called out to it blankly.
"Stop."
Before my words finished, dozens of wooden thorns launched from behind it.
Whoosh—! Dozens of thorns sliced through the air, charging at me. A sharp bursting sound.
I had no intention of dodging. I just didn't want that disgusting mass touching my body.
Don't come near.
Reflexively, I thrust out my arm. Revulsion at the thought of contact surged through my fingertips.
In that instant, thick wooden vines exploded from my arm.
Crunch! They smashed the airborne thorns in one sweep, then surged straight for its neck. Like starving serpents, they viciously entwined, seeking to strangle it.
"……!"
Its eyes widened in shock. It barely leaped back, dodging the vines. Whoosh—they clutched at empty air.
I looked down at my arm. Smooth wooden texture sprouted over my skin. And massive branches extending from its end.
'Huh…?'
I blanked out for a moment. Trees growing from my arm?
But my surprise lasted less than three seconds. My lower body was already roots; why not my arms?
"Handy."
I muttered, lifting my head again. The retreating figure groaned lowly and drew something from within its robe—a charred, mana-coated rotten wooden staff.
As it swung it wide—
"No you don't."
I was faster. I read the essence of the staff it held. No matter how coated in mana, its core was wood.
Crumble— The staff disintegrated into powder mid-air before its mana could even rampage. Its very existence vanished.
"Wh-what…?! My staff…!"
It panicked and retreated further. A dumbstruck expression lingered where its weapon had been.
The scattered black powder touched the ground. And there, like a miracle, fresh green sprouts began to emerge.
That was when—
"Hey! Don't just stand there!"
Delik's shout rang out. Simultaneously, layers of blue protective barriers stacked around me. Double-layered defense.
"We'll cover your back! Go wild!"
The mages were competent. They might not fully trust my identity, but the Demon King executive insignia on its robe had sealed their judgment. The enemy of my enemy is my friend.
"Look at its feet! The shadow's moving!"
With the assistant mages' cries, fireballs blocked its escape route. Perfect timing. Seamless support.
I looked at it again. The surrounding plants writhed in agony from its turbid energy once more. My expression soured further.
"Let's end this quick. You're ruining my mood."
I extended my arm again. This time, more, and longer. Vines from my arm raced across the ruins' floor.
Not just one. Five, ten, twenty. They multiplied exponentially, weaving a dense net over its escape paths.
"Y-you monstrous bitch…!"
It screamed and swung its hand. Black mana lashed like a whip, trying to sever my vines.
But it was futile. New sprouts immediately regrew from the cut ends. Thicker, tougher.
"Hey! Right side! It's trying to slip into the shadows!"
Delik's sharp cry. At the same time, a bright light orb flew to my right field of vision. Like a flash spell. The shadow dissipated, ejecting its half-melted form pathetically.
The mages were far more capable than I'd thought.
"Now!"
The assistant mages completed their chant. A circular barrier spread at its feet, then crack—its knees slammed into the ground.
"Gah…!"
The opening. Blankly, I tensed my extended arm. The floating vines poured toward it all at once. Like a massive wave devouring prey.
"I told you."
I slowly advanced. The rubble under my roots crumbled finely in response to my will.
"To stop."
Its entire body wrapped in vines, hoisted into the air. The black mana it emitted purified white upon contact with my vines, evaporating.
It flailed wordlessly now, unable even to scream.
"W-wait! Don't kill it! We need intel…!"
Delik shouted in panic from behind. But I didn't stop. I'd sensed the source of its repulsive mana burrowing into its body.
A black gem embedded near its heart.
"This."
I sharpened one vine thin and razor-like, aiming at its chest.
"What happens if I pull it out?"
At my question, its pupils twisted grotesquely. Fear? No. It was closer to a sinister grin.
"Insolent… weed."
Boom—! The black gem in its chest throbbed. A black shockwave erupted from its vine-bound body. The mages' double barriers around me shattered like glass.
"Cough!"
"Argh!"
The mages behind screamed and rolled. Competent as they were, that mana burst carried immense weight.
It spun lightly in mid-air and landed. The recoil flipped back its hood.
"……."
A moment of silence. The face revealed under moonlight was bizarre. Pale skin, sharp jawline. Unmistakably a beautiful woman's face. But twin obsidian horns sprouting from its head, and vertically slit reptilian pupils proved it wasn't human.
"My name is Zarok."
Lips like a woman's, but the voice that emerged was low and thick, a man's. An unpleasant dissonance. My expression twisted further.
"I see why Bellishian Drakar was wary. Not mere purification—it's power that erases the source itself."
Zarok slammed a hand to the ground. Shattered vine fragments blackened and morphed into thorn vines, surging anew. Wood detached from my body, now corrupted.
"Hey! Be careful! It's the vice-commander of the Demon King's Seventh Legion!"
Delik wiped blood from his mouth and yelled. Staggering, he raised his staff again.
"We'll draw its attention—aim for the main body!"
The mages moved once more. Dozens of mana arrows materialized in the air, pressuring Zarok. They didn't flee. Truly skilled veterans.
Whoosh, boom! Zarok slipped through the mages' attacks like paper, charging me. Its nails extended long, emitting violet sword aura.
"Plants are best when rooted to the dirt."
Nails aimed at my throat. I tilted my head slightly aside. A sharp sensation grazing my cheek as it cut the air.
Annoying.
The ground at my feet rumbled. The earth hated it too.
"The ones who should be rooted are—"
I lightly stomped. More precisely, shifted my roots lightly.
My roots shot through the ground at high speed, snaring Zarok's ankle.
"—rotten things like you."
Zarok's eyes widened once more.