The High Druid
How could this be?
The World Tree.
The tree that sustains the world. The foundation that sinks its roots into existence itself and holds everything together.
The only World Tree remaining in Pangenia was the elves' tree in the Primeval Forest.
But there was one more.
Here, in the Sanctuary of Palga.
The existence of the World Tree is what allows the floating continents of the sky to endure.
And there was a truth most people never knew — what the World Tree actually did.
Long ago, when the continent was still one, a brilliant civilization was annihilated by the appearance of Ruin. The sacrifice of Rhea, Goddess of Earth, prevented total destruction, but half the land sank into the Abyss while the other half rose into the sky. That floating land should have scattered like dust — until Fina, Goddess of Sky and Rhea's twin, made it possible for the land to hold. That was how present-day Pangenia came to be.
Everyone knew that much of history. What they did not know was that the force used to support those lands was the World Tree itself — or what would happen if the World Tree vanished.
The World Tree was withering…
That was the problem. The World Tree was dying. The elves had surely realized it as well, yet all they could do was stamp their feet in helpless frustration. There was no solution — because the race that once tended the World Tree was gone.
One of the tragic peoples wiped out by Ruin.
The Druids.
…Because the Druids had disappeared.
Ruin had exterminated every race that formed the foundations of the world. Just as he had destroyed the Crows of Omen who managed the Towers so that the Towers could no longer function, just as he had weakened the gods — so too had he erased the Druids, so that every World Tree would wither and die. Only the Druids could sow the seeds of a World Tree and tend it!
And yet…
The Great Elder stared at the World Tree with eyes that refused to believe what they saw. For long ages he had watched over the World Tree of Honor, tending it with his own hands. Twice, truly honorable souls had proven their worth and caused a few blossoms to open…
But full bloom…!
Only a handful of flowers, never more. This was the first time every leaf had unfurled in full bloom. And still he could not understand why. Why so suddenly? Right after it had flung Raiga aside? Worse — the dying World Tree had recovered its vitality, a strength he had never managed to restore no matter how desperately he cared for it.
If neither he nor Raiga was the cause, only one possibility remained.
You've brought an interesting child.
That boy. The disciple Raiga had brought. Yet the Great Elder had expected nothing. Even Raiga, brought by the previous master of the Palga, had failed to win the World Tree's recognition. Surely the disciple Raiga had chosen would prove even more unremarkable.
"…"
When the Great Elder's gaze settled on him, every other gaze followed. They, too, had sensed it — who stood at the center of this change. But it might not be so. They had to confirm it.
"…Will you take the Trial of Qualification?"
The Great Elder spoke, his eyes faintly tense even now.
Thud—
Raiga's disciple gave a short nod and immediately took a step forward. He approached the World Tree and spoke — but the words that left his mouth were nothing anyone had expected.
"Acknowledge that I am your master, O World Tree."
"…!"
"…!!!"
The elders' eyes flew wide. The Great Elder was no less stunned. He had expected some speech about becoming master of the Palga, or heir, or disciple. But your master? Did he mean to claim ownership of the World Tree itself?
Impossible.
The Great Elder shook his head inwardly. There was no master of the World Tree. Even the greatest of Druids could not claim that title. If such a being existed, it would be only one — a figure spoken of only in legend among the Druids.
…The High Druid.
The sovereign of the Druids. The one called master of all living things, of nature itself. Only that name could make such a claim. But the High Druid appeared only in legend. Even the Great Elder had never seen anyone inherit that title — not even in the days when the world was whole.
The High Druid does not exist. Cannot exist.
So this proof would fail. Neither Raiga nor his disciple would receive the World Tree's choice.
And then, in that very moment—
Hwaaaaaak!
Red.
The World Tree cast forth a crimson light. The color of failure. And yet—
…It did not reject him. That means he has surpassed ten thousand points of Honor.
The World Tree of Honor measured honor as a numerical value. Red was the domain of ten thousand. Anyone who failed to reach that threshold was flung away at once — the reason Raiga had been cast out. But Raiga's disciple was not cast out. Which meant he had surpassed ten thousand.
Hwaaaaaak!
Orange!
…The color changed. Orange — the domain of twenty thousand. The honor of legendary kings and great heroes usually fell within this range. On rare occasions, when they proved their worth, the light stopped at orange. Or when a soul of comparable brilliance and beauty appeared, orange would shine.
And yet—
Hwaaaaaak!
…He surpassed it?
Yellow. He had entered the domain of thirty thousand. This was the color of honor fit even for an emperor — the threshold that included the right to become master of the Palga. But anyone who had amassed thirty thousand Honor should already be a name known to all. There would be no reason for such a person to become Raiga's disciple.
Then—
Is he the owner of a soul shaped by the gods themselves?
Only an overwhelmingly beautiful soul could reach this realm. A soul like one the gods had crafted by hand — the soul of a pope chosen by the divine — might manage yellow.
"Ah…!"
"H-how is this possible…!!"
The problem was that it did not end there. The light changed color again.
Green!
…A color that had appeared only twice in all of history. Two beings whose names would endure for ages — the strongest of the strong, who had rewritten predetermined outcomes through the honor they themselves had built. Apart from those two sacred figures, whom even the Great Elder had been forced to acknowledge, he had never seen this color. The domain of forty thousand Honor. If a soul of the same caliber existed… he could scarcely imagine it. Perhaps a holy child of the gods themselves.
"…?!"
"…!!!"
But even that was not the end. Everyone reeled in shock, throats locked so tight that no words would come.
…Blue.
He had entered the domain of fifty thousand Honor. And it was a color no one had ever witnessed — not the Great Elder, not any of the other elders. None of them had ever seen the World Tree of Honor radiate blue light. Everyone had believed green was the final limit. They had been certain no greater being would ever appear.
And yet, if a being who could draw forth blue light were to appear…
Master of the World Tree.
…Just as the boy had first declared, he would truly deserve to be called the World Tree's master. But no one had ever seen it. And so the Great Elder could make no response at all.
Raiga's disciple had already proven it — that he had become master of the Palga, that he possessed qualifications beyond even that. The reason the World Tree had fully bloomed and recovered its strength was now perfectly clear.
Like a prophet of old…
In the distant past, there had been those who needed no proof. Those who stood at the apex of their kind and led the beginning of all things. The High Druid had been one. The Eternal Sovereign had been one. The Demon Blood King had been one. But they were absolute beings now vanished and forgotten. If this boy were like them — if he were a prophet of that same order — then yes, he could make the World Tree pour forth blue light.
"G-Great… Elder…!"
"I-it's indigo!"
"This can't be!"
…No one had even imagined the color would change again. Beyond blue, it became indigo. A second first-of-its-kind qualification. The domain of sixty thousand.
"Ah…"
The Great Elder let out a quiet breath of pure wonder. He had simply stopped trying to think. The man before him had already surpassed every realm the Great Elder could conceive.
The first indigo light the World Tree had ever released. Honor was a thing so rare that even a life lived far from sin struggled to reach a thousand points. A perfect score demanded honor beyond measure. Then what of sixty thousand? What in the world would one have to do to reach that domain?
The achiever of every trial that exists in the world.
That was the only scale that seemed possible. Naturally, it was impossible — even for an immortal who lived for eternity. And if a soul of comparable caliber existed? Could there even be a measure that surpassed the prophets themselves?
…I do not know.
At the very least, the Great Elder could imagine no greater being. Would the arrogant masters of Heaven be capable? Hardly. If they possessed any honor, they would never have summoned Ruin.
It is over.
A human who had reached an unknown realm. A man of wondrous honor. The end. There was no need to watch further. There could be nothing beyond this.
And yet—
"L-look…"
"Purple!"
"Ghk…!"
…There was more. The seventh domain, which had existed only in theory.
In that instant—
Hwoong! Hwoooooong!
Red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, violet.
Seven colors embroidered the World Tree all at once — and formed a rainbow. Several elders who beheld that rainbow fainted outright, overwhelmed by a mystique that shattered every law of common sense. They could no longer even guess what kind of qualification this was supposed to be.
"…Beautiful."
Simply… beautiful.
The Great Elder trembled. It was the vast, boundless power of great nature itself — an activation of force more intense than anything he had felt in his entire life.
Krrraaack!
Another anomaly struck. The heart of the World Tree split open, and a realm no one had ever seen before appeared.
…A dungeon connected to the World Tree? He had never even heard of such a thing.
And that was not all.
Sssk!
Ssssssk!
Horns sprouted above the Great Elder's head. Enormous antlers like a stag's began to emerge. The other elders were the same. Though none matched the Great Elder's size, horns rose from their brows as well.
"Ahh…"
"H-how is this possible…"
"The horns we cut away…"
Power surged through them. Their honor had been restored. The true nature they had forgotten — that they had been forced to forget — returned.
"W-we've regained it!"
"The power of the Druids…!"
They wept with overwhelming emotion. They cried out. They embraced one another and shook uncontrollably. Of course they did. They were Druids — beings who had moved the World Tree and hidden it to escape Ruin.
The horns we cut off ourselves to flee from Ruin…
There had been only one way to escape Ruin: sever the horns and abandon the identity of a Druid. After that, they had simply lived on, burning their honor as fuel. They had discarded themselves solely to protect the World Tree.
And yet—
The honor they had burned, the qualification they had cast aside… had been restored as if it were a lie. As the World Tree recovered completely, it returned their original standing to them once more.
The Great Elder.
Long ago, he had been one of the Great Chiefs who led the Druids. He had fought against Ruin — and then fled in despair before Ruin's hopeless power. The most dishonorable of Druids.
And yet…
…The Great Elder slowly, with full ceremony, dropped to one knee. He bowed his head and spoke.