The Sanctuary of Honor
O Knights of the Round Table······!
The appearance of the second World Tree set all of Pangenia in motion.
In particular, every soul who considered themselves “honorable” flocked to the Sanctuary.
Some came to have their honor verified by the World Tree itself. Others came for their second class advancement!
“There is no one more honorable than I.”
“Indeed, Sir Arms.”
“You are not called the ‘Knight of Light’ for nothing!”
“The World Tree itself will bless you, Sir Arms. Absolutely!”
Arms, the Knight of Light, arrived at the Sanctuary with his nose held high—accompanied by more than a hundred knights who followed him.
According to the ancient records, the World Tree of Honor had produced countless great heroes.
If the World Tree of Honor alone acknowledged you, your name would thunder across the entire continent overnight.
And that was not all.
The tectonic upheavals currently shaking the world—the very merging of the Abyssal domains—were all the World Tree’s doing.
It was therefore clear that the World Tree would stand at the center of everything yet to come.
Yet the moment Arms set foot inside the Sanctuary, he was forced to abandon every one of those thoughts.
“······The Goddess Sect?”
The first thing that met his eyes was the throng of the Goddess Sect.
Three Saintesses and several hundred holy knights stood among them.
But only one person filled Arms’s vision.
“Saintess Seia······!”
Gulp!
Saintess Seia!
Was she not the holy maiden said to have died during the Great Expedition?
He had heard rumors that she had recently reappeared in the Balan Kingdom, yet he had never imagined those rumors to be true.
But Saintess Seia was only the beginning.
The Radiant Transcendent Kasim, the Mage of Sacred Radiance Smith, even the Light Spirit Mage Baraman······ There are too many to count. Every hero who had buried themselves in the wilderness for so long has appeared.
His jaw dropped of its own accord.
There were even heroes from centuries past.
Those believed dead, or those who had simply vanished without a trace—every last one of them had gathered before the World Tree of Honor.
He recognized them at a glance precisely because they were so famous.
They were the legends—or myths—that every student had been forced to memorize as if they were required curriculum.
······And if even the humans were like this—
What of those who were not human?
Sea Beast King Turtlum, the Giant Who Annihilates Evil, the Mother of Fire, the Snake of the Old King, the White King, the Elf Queen, the Blade Dragon God······.
Monsters who normally never crossed paths with humanity had all turned out as well.
Star Guardians who protected the stars, and the sovereigns who reigned at the apex of countless races.
Among them, the Blade Dragon God was the very Dragon God that had once appeared in the Tower of the War God.
It had been reported slain, yet somehow it stood here again—no one could say how.
“······We’re leaving.”
“What? Sir Arms. You came all this way only to turn back?”
Arms nodded and spoke with humble honesty.
“This is not a place where I belong.”
The Elf Queen.
She and her elves trembled finely as they gazed up at the World Tree that pierced the heavens.
“Ahh······.”
“Your Majesty. It is a World Tree.”
“If we can only ‘Connect’ to it, the Dark Elves will never dare show their faces again!”
They were overcome with emotion.
It could not be helped.
Not long ago the elves had fought a war against the Dark Elves.
Countless elves had died or been abducted; the Queen and even their World Tree had nearly been lost.
In that bleak hour, the appearance of a second World Tree had been nothing less than a ray of light.
The source of an elf’s power was the tree.
By “Connecting” to trees and forests they drew forth great strength.
That was why they lived gathered around the World Tree in the Primeval Forest.
Now a second World Tree had appeared—an opportunity for vengeance.
“We must rescue Elder Aruwen. I will make the Connection.”
“······Auryll. You are not a High Elf.”
The Elf Queen shook her head.
Auryll would never endure a Connection with a World Tree.
Only High Elves could manage such a feat.
Yet far too many High Elves had been slain—or stolen—by the Dark Elves.
Elder Aruwen was no exception.
No one even knew whether she still lived.
“I can do it. Please let me try.”
Auryll bit her lip hard and pressed her case again and again.
Her heart was understandable.
Among the warriors, Auryll was an outstanding talent.
After following Elder Aruwen in search of the Lord of Verdure, she had spent a long while among humans.
When she finally returned, the Laurel Leaf she carried had grown explosively—
as though she had found the Mother Tree that proved one a High Elf.
Yet Auryll had arrived too late.
By the time she reached home the war was nearly over, and Elder Aruwen had already vanished.
If not for the White King and Priest Andrew······.
The Elf Queen would have died.
Both of them happened to be here as well.
But too many eyes watched; she could not approach them.
······That was when it happened.
“Your Majesty?”
“What is it?”
The Elf Queen’s expression hardened.
The figures who had appeared beside the World Tree—
the moment she saw them, she could not help but freeze.
“Druids······.”
The Druids, a race long said to be extinct, stood there.
The people who sowed seeds and created forests.
The elves, in turn, maintained those forests.
They had lived for ages in symbiotic balance—until Ruin annihilated the entire race.
And yet how were they here?
The Elf Queen was not the only one stunned.
Everyone else was equally shaken by the Druids’ appearance.
“We seek those more honorable than any other. Those whom the World Tree itself acknowledges as pure and sacred, without falsehood. The World Tree shall bestow upon you your True Name—but any who bear false honor shall be cut down by my own hand: I, Albino, Great Chief of the Druids.”
“Albino?”
“Great Chief Albino······?”
“Could a Druid from before the appearance of Ruin still be alive?”
There were those who knew the name Albino.
He had been one of the Great Chiefs of the Druids, and among them a figure of considerable legend.
Though he had fled at the end—
he was the sole Druid who had made green shoots sprout again upon the countless lands Ruin had destroyed.
That was Albino.
Lands annihilated by Ruin never again bore life.
He had turned the impossible into the possible; of course he was spoken of as legend.
“So he did not flee—he was protecting the World Tree······.”
The Elf Queen nodded.
The Druids lived.
And among them, the legendary Druid Albino.
He could guard the World Tree—and perhaps even restore it.
Yet the words that followed made the Elf Queen shudder.
“Furthermore, those who possess honor higher than any other, those of purest soul—the High Druid himself shall personally receive them.”
“······!!!”
“H-High Druid?”
High Druid!
The one and only sovereign who led all Druids.
Druids created trees and forests.
A High Druid created World Trees.
In the distant past, when the world was born, the High Druid was said to have raised eight World Trees to uphold the world.
But never again had a High Druid appeared.
Of course, some Druids had claimed the title, yet none had truly caused a World Tree to sprout.
At best they could commune with an existing one.
“Druid. Does a High Druid truly exist?”
Thus the Elf Queen could not help but ask.
She had to know the truth of those words.
“The High Druid has caused the World Tree of Honor to bloom in full. Elf Queen—you of all people should understand.”
Albino answered without embellishment.
And at that reply the Elf Queen could only nod inwardly.
The World Tree of Honor.
The power it held—the very life force itself—was utterly different from the World Tree of Beginning that stood in the Primeval Forest.
Its petals had fully bloomed; its roots had stretched all the way into the Abyss.
Moreover, natural force overflowed around it.
Already green shoots were sprouting across the entire place once called the Sanctuary of Honor.
Spirits were being conceived; trunks of trees were rising.
It was overwhelming.
If the elves relocated their home here, they would gain power incomparable to what they had known before.
······No. That was not right.
A High Druid could make even the World Tree in the Primeval Forest bloom in full.
“Grant us elves permission to ‘Connect’ to the World Tree of Honor.”
“That, too, is for the High Druid to decide.”
“In other words, we must first prove our qualifications.”
“You understand quickly, Queen.”
Proof of qualification.
Who would dare examine the qualifications of the Elf Queen?
Yet there was no choice.
It was the elves who thirsted now.
“High Druid······.”
“If it is true, we must confirm it.”
“He said he seeks the honorable, did he not?”
But it was not only the High Elves who burned with zeal.
The extinct Druids lived.
Moreover, a High Druid was said to exist.
There had to be a reason the High Druid had suddenly appeared.
And that reason might be more important than even the World Tree’s arrival.
Everyone raced forward toward the World Tree—
to have their honor verified,
to contest who among them was the more honorable being.
Thud.
······Yet even so, there were those who could not easily approach.
“Waiting always makes me restless.”
One among them—the White King.
He ignored the line and strode forward.
Arriving at the very front, the White King declared:
“I shall go first.”
Boldly.
With an air that would brook no objection.
The honor of humans.
And the honor of those who were not human.
Those standards could never be the same.
The environments in which they had lived were far too different for them to pursue identical honor.
Yet each possessed their own measure.
The White King was one such example.
From ancient times the White Tiger Clan had ruled over other races—
just as the White King now governed the North and Kramdel, ruling the monsters.
The honor of the White Tiger Clan lay in how well one governed those under them.
And now that he had regained his power, the White King’s confidence pierced the heavens.
“Confirm my qualifications.”
Whoooosh!
The petals of the World Tree began to whirl.
Soon their color shifted and deepened into red.
Red.
Orange.
Then yellow.
“King of a Hundred Beasts······?”
A voice drifted faintly to his ears.
He heard the epithet—King of a Hundred Beasts.
At once the White King’s pure-white mane grew even fuller and richer.
“······Remarkable.”
The True Name the World Tree had bestowed carried power.
Something equivalent to a second class advancement had occurred within him.
The World Tree of Honor reclaims 10% of your possessed Honor — 2,500 points.
Of that amount, 250 points are transferred to the Master of the World Tree.
Of course it was not free.
The World Tree had reclaimed ten percent of the honor he possessed.
One percent of that was said to be delivered to the Master of the World Tree—most likely the High Druid.
“Not bad.”
In any case, the feeling of having been acknowledged by the World Tree was not unpleasant.
The White King shrugged and stepped out of the World Tree’s domain.
Thereafter the verification of qualifications continued without end.
Yet most stopped at red, or at best orange.
None reached yellow as the White King had.
So he asked:
“Druid. How many stages does the confirmation of honor possess?”
“There are seven stages.”
“······Then I am only the third stage?”
Albino gave a short laugh.
“Do not worry. Those who can reach the third stage appear only a handful of times in a century.”
“Hmm. I see.”
“Of course, the High Druid has surpassed the seventh stage.”
“······.”
He himself was merely the third stage—yet someone had gone beyond the seventh?
It was unbelievable.
High Druid.
Just what kind of creature was he?
If he could, he would have demanded to see the face at once.
But another unbelievable event occurred.
“Green?”
“Oh—she has reached the fourth stage. Who is that woman?”
One among the humans had entered the green light of the fourth stage.
Yet it was hard to believe.
The third stage was enough to become a master of the Palga.
The fourth stage was a level that might not appear even once in a century.
Who on earth possessed honor—and a soul—of such magnitude?