Raising the World Tree (1)

According to Full-Health Elf, the elves had poured their blood, sweat, and tears into nursing the World Tree back to health.

Yet, looking at the diagnostic image transmitted through the screen, there was no way in hell that thing could be considered normal.

"This... is supposed to be the World Tree?"

All that met my eyes were skeletal, brittle branches. It was light-years removed from any majestic image of lush greenery brimming with vibrant vitality. If anything, it looked like a withered landmark ripped straight out of a grimdark map called The Murky Black Bog or The Desolate Barrens.

Still, one shouldn't jump to conclusions without the facts. Knowing next to nothing about botanical care for colossal divine arbors, I gently inquired about the specific remedies they had attempted. The response was a masterclass in absurdity.

"What kind of circus is this?"

One fact, however, was crystal clear: these elves had no earthly idea how to manage a tree.

"The elves are the culprits."

Tormenting the poor tree with non-stop dancing.

Hanging all over its branches and draping sodden laundry across its boughs to choke off sunlight and air.

Letting a devastating pest infestation flourish unchecked...

The elves had mobilized every conceivable method to actively murder their own sacred deity. At this point, the real miracle was that the World Tree was still drawing breath at all.

"No wonder it can't bear any proper fruit."

With its living conditions reduced to a toxic biohazard, the produce harvested from the World Tree was bound to be nightmarish: blackened, shriveled apples, each guaranteed to house at least one wriggling grub, encrusted with swarms of repulsive parasites.

And to top it off, these bottom-tier elven eco-terrorists were cheering each other on.

Right at that moment, another thread popped up.

In the attached snapshot, a brittle, trembling bough extended outward, seemingly staring straight through the system screen directly at me.

Regaining its health, my foot. That wasn't a stretch of renewed vigor; it was the final, desperate plea of a dying hostage reaching out for rescue before flatlining.

Seeing that, I opened a new thread without hesitation.

Within seconds, a deluge of comments flooded the thread. To the elves, the World Tree was everything: their provider of food, their ancestral dwelling, and the sacred fountainhead of their mana regeneration. Seeing how genuinely desperate they were, I tapped out my response.

Step one: eliminate the primary culprits before doing anything else.

Maintaining a gallery community is backbreaking labor. I needed living users to guarantee my own survival, yet these lunatics seemed hell-bent on engineering their own doom.

"Being Head Mod? Not an easy gig..."

Thus commenced the World Tree Rescue Operation. To serve as my hands and feet on the ground, I recruited my sub-mod, Full-Health Elf, along with a curated unit of thirty elven arborists.

"First order of business is exterminating those pests."

I narrowed my eyes at the feed on my monitor. I wasn't talking about the elves—not yet, anyway. I meant the vile creatures caked across the World Tree's trunk, the ones the elder elves so affectionately dubbed 'fairies': colossal moths stamped with nauseating hypnotic patterns, two-headed caterpillars, and flies sporting four sets of translucent wings. No matter how you looked at them, they were virulent parasites gorging themselves on the World Tree's life force.

If she dared spout any nonsense about fairies being sacred companions, I was fully prepared to send her a live flashbang with the pin pulled via barter delivery. Thankfully, unlike the ossified elders of the council, the self-proclaimed 'young generation' of elves was well aware that these 'fairies' were pests.

Elf law, of all things. The ancient elders who had roamed the earth since antiquity harbored an almost religious revulsion toward slaying fairies. Even as centuries drifted by and it became blindingly obvious that they were parasites, even as they tacitly realized those creatures were actively bleeding the World Tree dry, their minds refused to budge.

"Aigoo, you ungrateful brats! Fairies are living beings too, sacred lives!"

"Heavens above, the end of the world is upon us, the end times...! What insolent whelp whose baptism hasn't even dried dares to slaughter a fairy?!"

The stubbornness of the ancient elves was an immovable wall. And among them stood the greatest obstacle of all.

None other than our beloved registered handle, CuteElfElder-chan><. The vicious, venomous glower she leveled from afar radiated her sheer, unyielding determination to never let a soul harm her precious bugs.

"Wait, isn't she that same elf who threatened me with an alcohol ban a while back?"

Indeed, CuteElfElder-chan had previously presumed to lecture and threaten me on the forum. And the problem—for her—was that I happened to be an exceptionally petty person who kept receipts.

"A gentleman bides his time for revenge..."

Saving the World Tree, keeping the active userbase alive, and paying back an old grudge all at once. Before initiating the plan, I reached out to Full-Health Elf to confirm our alignment.

I began outlining the detailed operational ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠brief to Full-Health Elf.

With our Assistant Moderator fully on board, the operation was set into motion.

Mersen, Head of the Elf Elder Council, known across the forums as 'CuteElfElder-chan><,' hovered over the elves participating in the Head Mod's project, watching them with critical, meddlesome eyes.

"You there! Treat the sacred World Tree with far greater care!"

"Eek! Watch out, you're going to hurt the fairies! Gently, handle them more delicately!"

Standing idly with her arms folded while barking supervisory orders, Mersen scowled in deep disapproval.

"What will become of modern elven youth when they treat our sacred deity so roughly...?"

Shaking her head in dismay, Mersen felt a sincere, heavy dread for the future of elf society. Naturally, she was not oblivious; she knew the fairies were causing minor distress to ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the tree. But weren't fairies the eternal friends of elfkind?

'Can't we simply nurse the World Tree back to health without causing any harm to the lovely fairies?'

Mersen was determined to stand right by their side and personally verify just what kind of crude method this Head Mod intended to employ. It was precisely then that Eliana, the Knight Commander of Eladrien, approached her.

Eliana was the realm's most celebrated knight commander and the de facto leader of the younger elven generation. Although she obstinately refused to reveal her forum handle whenever asked—which was somewhat irksome—she remained a trustworthy, upright elf.

"What is the matter?" Mersen asked, her frosty expression softening marginally.

Eliana offered a warm, agreeable smile, gesturing toward the shaded sanctuary beneath a canopy of thick hanging vines.

"The day is sweltering and humid, and seeing you labor so diligently under the heat, Elder, I came to offer you some cola to refresh your throat."

"Cola?"

"I have brought Dew as well."

"Hmph. Well, seeing as you went through the trouble out of pure sincerity, I suppose I shall indulge in a sip."

Soju was an offer no civilized elf could resist. Innocent as a lamb, Mersen followed Eliana under the sheltering curtain of vines. Yet upon the rustic table sat only a single cup filled with effervescent, pitch-black liquid.

"Where is the Dew?"

"Ah, they are preparing it right this instant. In the meantime, please wet your lips with a sip of cola."

"Hmm... Very well, then."

Without an ounce of suspicion, Mersen brought the cup to her mouth. At that moment, a bizarre thought flashed through her mind.

'Come to think of it... where did all the other elves go? They were right beside us just a moment ago...'

The glade had fallen eerily, unnervingly still. Sensing something amiss, Mersen moved to pull the cup from her lips.

"Seize her, you know!"

"?!"

The instant Eliana's command rang out, dozens of elves exploded from the thick foliage. In the blink of an eye, they pinned Mersen's limbs to the ground and snatched the cup from her fingers.

"W-What is the meaning of this outrage?!"

"My sincerest apologies. But we have no other choice, you know!"

"Eliana, what on earth is that atrocious way of speaking?!"

Mersen was utterly flabbergasted. But none of the younger elves were seeking her understanding. Had civil dialogue been an option, they never would have resorted to an ambush in broad daylight.

"Force it down, you know."

"Y-You impudent wretches...! You green whelps whose baptismal water hasn't even dried—Mmph! Mmmph?!"

An elven knight tilted a fresh bottle and forcefully tipped a torrent of cola between Mersen's lips. The stinging, explosive carbonation characteristic of the dark soda flooded her mouth. And while the helpless elder choked on the overwhelming fizz, Eliana calmly pulled a familiar roll from inside her tunic.

"Mmph! Mmmph?!"

"Everything we do is for the sake of the World Tree, you know..."

Rattle-rattle—whoosh.

Without a flicker of hesitation, Eliana uncapped the roll and emptied dozens of Mentos straight into Mersen's carbonated mouth.

"Glargh?! G-Guh... K-Kaaah! EEEEEEEEEK?!"

Violently geysering a volcanic eruption of foam, snot, and tears, Mersen collapsed backward into the dirt. And the very last sight that registered in the elder's failing, traumatized consciousness was...

A single directive glowing through the system window, followed by rows of young elven knights hoisting heavy tanks of industrial-grade pesticide and spray nozzles onto their shoulders with chillingly gleeful smiles.