The Golden Tree (3)

The moment Iver passed through the Dimensional Gate from the hot spring, the world spun and everything went dark. Not that she lost consciousness — it was more like the head rush you get from standing up too fast after lying down for hours. A mild dizziness, vision swaying this way and that.

Without thinking, I rested my head against the desk and closed my eyes.

I'd only meant to rest for a second. When I finally snapped awake, one thing was immediately clear.

My body feels way too refreshed. How long was I out?

The office lights were off, so it couldn't have been that long — but I hadn't planned on sleeping in the first place. I'd dozed off with my arm for a pillow like some student pulling an all-nighter, and now my right arm ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠was buzzing with pins and needles. I kneaded the stiff limb, working feeling back into my fingers as I fumbled for my phone.

I remembered Iver going through the Dimensional Gate. Everything after that was a blank.

Why did I get so dizzy all of a sudden, anyway?

I'd never had anemia, but if I had to guess what it felt like, that was probably it — like something inside me had been suddenly, violently sucked out.

...Because I sent Iver outside the Dimensional Gate?

First things first: figure out what actually happened.

I switched straight into World Exploration Mode. What I'd wanted from Iver was simple — stop the burning tree. Whether that intention had gotten through was another question entirely.

"What the hell is this?"

The place where the burning tree had stood looked like an earthquake had hit. The ground was cracked and upheaved in every direction, the forest smashed to pieces. The fire was out, at least... but Iver was nowhere to be seen. Instead, a massive, magnificent blue dragon lay sprawled on the ground. If Iver ever grew up properly without regressing, she'd probably look exactly like that.

Wait. Is that actually Iver?

Above the fallen dragon's head, a name appeared: Frost Dragon Iver. That was really her?

I'd looked away for five minutes and she'd somehow gone through a growth spurt of absurd proportions. More pressingly, her HP was bottomed out. She'd clearly fought something — blood was pouring from her, and there was a burn-like wound along her side.

What did she fight that left her like this even after growing that much?

If baby Iver was the juvenile stage, the Iver in front of me was fully mature — complete form, even.

A few injured residents were scattered around Iver as well. Healing them one by one sounded like a pain, so I just dropped the area effect. A golden circle bloomed across the screen, and both Iver's and the residents' health bars started climbing fast. Say what you will — I was a god, and I intended to save every resident I could.

Ba-bam—!

"Oh?"

With the fire completely extinguished, the tree was golden in every ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠sense of the word — leaves, vigorously outstretched branches, the thick trunk itself, all of it saturated in vivid gold. It wasn't actual gold, of course, being a tree, but something about it overwhelmed the eye all the same.

"Ah. So this is the Golden Tree from that entry."

It clicked. The bow I still hadn't unlocked or crafted — the one the dwarves had flat-out refused to make, swaggering about how it was beyond them. The B-Grade weapon: the Greatbow of the Golden Tree. Same name as the tree I'd just found.

Was that really a coincidence?

...There's something here.

Wonder Building: the Great Golden Tree. I needed a closer look. Observation first — the foundation of any investigation.

I zoomed the camera to maximum and scanned every inch. At some point the zoom quality had improved enough that I could make out the veins on individual golden leaves. Not that I needed that level of detail. I dialed it back and swept the area quickly.

"These guys look a little different."

That was the first thing I noticed. The residents around Iver weren't human. Their ears were far too pointed, and every last one of them was absurdly beautiful — the kind of good-looking that made "human" a hard sell.

Pointed ears. Striking beauty. In a fantasy setting, there was only one race that came to mind.

No way. Elves?

As if to confirm the guess, a cheerful fanfare emoji exploded across the screen.

Ping-pong—!

"Oh."

The near-mandatory non-human race of any fantasy world. Alongside dwarves, elves were the staple dish of the genre — and here they were. Looking closer with that knowledge in mind, every classic elf trait was on full display. The pointed ears, sure, but also the way they lived: holes bored into tall trees like squirrel dens, clearings and walkways woven entirely from living wood and suspended in the air. Their love of trees bordered on obsession.

New race discovered — the quest should have updated, right?

"Why is this still the same, though?"

The earlier message had said "Five Races," so the elves were definitely one of the five the quest was talking about. Which meant... I'd already seen an elf at some point without realizing it? That would explain why the counter had started at 2/5 from the beginning.

When...?

When on earth had I seen an elf?

"Grrrk—! Grrrk!!"

A snowfield under heavy snowfall. A crimson circle tore open in midair without warning, spat something out like a retching mouth, and vanished just as fast. Whatever it had ejected hit the ground with a heavy thud. A faint rise and fall of the chest said it was still alive. Time passed — long enough for snow to pile thick across its body — before it slowly pushed itself upright.

"Grrrk... hhh."

Eyes gleaming with madness, bottomless greed, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠and raw gluttony. Scales a deep blood-red, darker even than the blood streaming down its body.

The demon that had coveted the Golden Tree. For now, nothing more than an ugly, fleeing loser.

"Grrh... krrh!"

The demon wrenched free the tree branch lodged deep in one eye and hurled it aside. Beaten by a mere stick. How had so much divine power been packed into a simple branch in the first place?

...Variables. Too many variables. Things I never accounted for.

The demon limped across the vast snowfield, replaying the fight. There were plenty of reasons for the loss. That a dragon serving as ■'s lackey had shown up. That it had been far stronger than any dragon the demon had known. That the withered Golden Tree's backlash had been so fierce the demon couldn't fully devour its divinity. That branch, saturated with an unnerving amount of holy power...

A bitter defeat. But not a total loss.

First gain: devouring even a portion of the divinity and elevating its own rank by a full tier. Second: learning that the dragon still lived. Third — and most important — confirming that ■ could not intervene in the fight between the demon and the dragon.

That last one mattered. If intervention had been possible, it would have happened. A life-or-death battle between a demon and ■'s servant — there was no reason not to step in if you could. Something was constraining ■. Some limit, some restriction.

If intervention were possible, it would have intervened. Was that constellation in the sky nothing but empty posturing?

"Grrrk— krrrk..."

The demon dragged itself through the snow, turning over plans. The decisive reason for the earlier loss:

Power. Not enough power.

Even after consuming divinity gathered through the voluntary sacrifice of its kin, it had only managed to fight the dragon to a near-draw. Without that one effective ambush strike, it would have lost outright. Defeated by a mere servant — not even by ■ itself. At this rate, the idea of devouring ■ was less than a joke. It was pure nonsense.

Power. Absolute power was what it lacked.

So what should it do?

"Krrrk... over there will do."

The demon's gaze swept the landscape and locked onto a massive fortress wall far beyond the curtain of the blizzard. Two-legged wolves and humans locked in ferocious combat.

What a demon needed was despair and terror. Souls and sacrifices. And the easiest way to harvest those?

War, of course.

Having found its banquet, the demon's eyes curved into a grin.

"—...tel! —stel! Are you—?"

A high-pitched ringing split through her skull like an ice pick. Estel groaned, instinctively covering her eyes.

"Nngh..."

"Estel! Estel! Can you hear me?"

"Someone go get the Chieftain!"

"I'll go! I'll go!"

"Me too!!"

"Hey— hey! If all of you leave, what am I supposed to— I'm coming too!"

Crash, clatter—!

The room was pure chaos. Chairs scraping across the floor, doors slamming, feet pounding away at a run... The noise throbbed through her head.

Why is it so loud...

Clutching her pounding skull, Estel ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠slowly sat up. As her eyes adjusted to the light, the room came into focus: a ceiling patterned with the grain of living wood, a lantern of glowing insects hanging on the wall, a modest dresser, simple decorations. A familiar scene. Her own home.

"Ugh..."

Sitting up on the bed made her head feel like it might split open. What on earth had happened?

Whoever had been nursing her was gone — off to fetch someone, apparently. A chair still sat at an angle where it had been roughly shoved aside.

...Where did everyone go?

Estel let out a quiet breath and carefully pieced together her last memories. The burning Golden Tree. The demon's assault. A dragon appearing from nowhere. And then — and then—

"...The bow!"

The bow. She had drawn it. With her own two hands, she had pulled the string and put an arrow through the demon's eye.

Estel scrambled up, searching for the bow. She needed proof — confirmation that she had truly loosed that shot.

"Ah."

It wasn't far. Right beside her bed. In pieces.

A family heirloom passed down since the Mythic Age, and it had shattered this easily. Estel's trembling fingers brushed across the fractured wood. Cracked. Fragmented. The string snapped clean through. It would never fire again.

The bracelet...

The sacred relic she'd gone through hell to obtain, shaped like a bracelet. In her hazy memory, fine cracks had already been spreading across its surface. Had that broken too?

Anxiety drowned out the headache. Estel pushed herself fully upright and searched the room in a rush. Unlike the bow, the bracelet was nowhere. She circled the room again and again, chewing her nails with growing agitation — until a heavy voice called to her from beyond the window.

You there, monkey. Looking for this?

Whoosh—

Something blotted out the window, and a deep shadow flooded the house. Night fell indoors without warning. A crushing pressure bore down on Estel. Something vast was behind her — beyond that window, something transcendent was speaking to her.

Her teeth chattered. Her hands and feet shook. A cold that had nothing to do with temperature wrapped her body.

"Hah. Hah..."

Estel turned her head toward the window, slowly—

For a monkey, you sure move slow—

"Kyaaaaaaah!!"

She met the enormous blue eye staring in at her through the window — and collapsed with a thud, out cold.

...Did I do something wrong?

Iver, who had only meant to say hello, scratched her head awkwardly.