"We stepped into the light of the corrupted shard," I said, my voice echoing flatly against the damp, bioluminescent walls of the root chamber.
But as the words left my mouth, I realized "light" was the wrong word for it. It was more of a heavy, oily radiation. The Life Fragnt didn’t glow; it throbbed. Every ti the black, crystalline veins on its surface pulsed, a wave of nausea rolled through , hitting my Level 10 constitution like a physical punch to the gut. It slled like a basent that had been flooded with stagnant water and then left to rot for a decade—tallic, earthy, and sweet in a way that made your teeth hurt.
"Okay, I’m gonna be real with you guys," Red said, covering her nose with the crook of her elbow. She nudged a piece of blackened, shriveled moss with the toe of her boot. "I’ve seen so nasty stuff in the slums of Silver-Port. I’ve seen sewers that would make a goblin faint. But this? This is actually making want to retire. Is that... is that thing hissing at us?"
"It’s not hissing, Red," Cian whispered, though he looked just as pale as she did. He was holding his wand out like a dowsing rod, the crystal tip flickering a weak, confused purple. "It’s a localized atmospheric vibration. The fragnt is trying to output Life mana, but the Blight is... it’s like a filter. It’s catching the energy and twisting it. It’s a scream, basically. We’re hearing a magical scream."
"Great. A screaming, stinky rock. Fantastic," Tybalt muttered. He was clutching his bag of supplies so tightly I thought he might snap the straps. He looked up at the ceiling of the chamber, where the massive, white roots of the World Tree disappeared into the dark. "Ren, can we just... I don’t know, spray so vinegar on it? Or maybe so of that holy water Lysandra has? I’m serious. My eyes are watering from the stench."
"Vinegar isn’t going to cut it this ti, Ty," I said, leaning my weight against Kaelen’s shoulder. My legs were shaking. Every step through this thick, mana-saturated air felt like wading through wet cent. I looked at the fragnt.
It sat on a pedestal of living wood that had been completely overtaken by the black rot. The roots supporting it were gnarled and twisted, looking more like charred bones than parts of a tree. The fragnt itself was a jagged spike of what should have been brilliant erald, but now it looked like a piece of coal that had swallowed a star.
"Lysandra," I called out, my voice sounding thin. "You’re the expert on ’Purification.’ Can you do anything for that? Or is it too far gone?"
Lysandra stepped forward, her shield held high. She looked at the corrupted shard with a mixture of professional focus and deep, personal disgust. She reached out a hand, her gauntlet beginning to glow with that steady, warm gold light I’d grown used to.
"I can try," she said, her voice tight. "But Ren, this isn’t a normal curse. Usually, corruption is like... dirt on a window. You scrub it, and the light cos back. This? This feels like the glass itself has been turned into lead. The infection isn’t on the fragnt. It’s becoming the fragnt."
She placed her hand on the edge of the wooden pedestal.
Sizzle.
A sharp, acrid smoke rose from where her mana touched the black rot. Lysandra winced, pulling her hand back. Her golden light flickered and died, and for a second, I saw a thin line of black veins crawling up the silver fingers of her gauntlet before they faded.
"It’s hungry," she whispered, her eyes wide. "It tried to eat the light. It didn’t just resist ; it tried to pull in."
"Okay, so no touching the angry obsidian," Red said, backing away a step. "Check. What now, Guildmaster? You said we ’clean’ it. Do you have a giant bar of magical soap in that bag, or are we just gonna stare at it until Marek brings the house down on us?"
"I’m thinking," I snapped, then imdiately felt bad for the tone. I rubbed my temples, trying to ignore the way the "System" was buzzing in my ear like a fly I couldn’t swat. "My head is killing . Level 10 is a joke. I feel like I’m trying to solve a puzzle while soone is hitting with a hamr."
"Sit down, Ren," Kaelen said. It wasn’t a suggestion. He grabbed a relatively clean-looking stone—well, clean of rot, anyway—and shoved it behind my knees. I sat. "You’re no use to us if you pass out. Cian, give him so of that water."
Cian fumbled with a waterskin and handed it to . I drank, the cool liquid helping to clear so of the fog.
"Okay," I said, wiping my mouth. "Logic ti. The Blight is an external infection fueled by the Covenant’s void-seeds. It needs a source. In the city, the source was Marek’s staff and the battery Vance was running. But down here... it’s been here longer. The Elders said it was in the stone."
"Which ans there’s an anchor," Mia said.
We all looked at her. She was standing near Cerberus, her small hand buried in the dog’s scruff. She wasn’t looking at the fragnt. She was looking at the floor, specifically at a spot where a massive root disappeared into a crack in the white stone.
"The tree is trying to push it out," Mia continued, her voice quiet but certain. "I can feel the roots moving. They’re deep. Way deeper than this room. There’s sothing down there that’s... biting."
"Sothing biting?" Tybalt asked, his voice hitching an octave. "Like a bug? A big bug? Please don’t tell it’s a giant, soul-eating termite. I have a very specific phobia of things with more than six legs."
"Not a bug, Ty," I said, a mory from the original ga’s lore surfacing. "It’s a siphon. If Valen wanted to corrupt a World Tree, he wouldn’t just throw so sludge at it. He’d plant a Parasite Shard. A corrupted version of the fragnts we’re carrying."
"A seventh fragnt?" Cian asked, his eyes widening behind his glasses. "The lore only ntions six. Soul, Physics, Life, Ti, Space, and Thought."
"It’s not a real fragnt," I said, leaning forward. "It’s a copy. A hollow one. It acts like a black hole for mana. It sucks the Life out of the tree and stores it for the Covenant to collect later. If we find the anchor and break it, the pressure on the Life Fragnt should drop. Then Lysandra can actually do her job."
"And where is this anchor?" Kaelen asked, his hand resting on his sword.
Mia pointed at the crack in the floor. "Down. Through the hollows. The tree has a space inside. A ’marrow’ room."
"A marrow room," Red sighed. "Fantastic. We’re going to go inside the tree’s bones. Why can’t we ever just go to a nice, normal tavern and have a regular fight with so bandits?"
"Because bandits don’t have the fate of the world in their pockets, Red," I said, struggling back to my feet. I felt like I was made of lead, but we didn’t have ti to wait for a nap. "Kaelen, can you widen that crack? We need to get the wagon... wait, we left the wagon. Right."
"I’ve got it," Kaelen said.
He didn’t use his sword. He just stepped to the crack, braced his boots, and shoved his hands into the gap. His muscles tensed, the leather of his coat creaking. With a sound like a mountain groaning, he tore the stone apart. The opening widened into a dark, vertical shaft that slled of old wood and ozone.
"Ladies first," Kaelen grunted, nodding toward the hole.
"In your dreams, Wolf," Red muttered, but she stepped to the edge and looked down. "It’s a drop. About thirty feet. Looks like there’s so softer roots at the bottom."
"I’ll go first," Lysandra said. "If there are husks down there, I’m the best one to clear the landing."
She jumped. A second later, we heard a muffled clank and a "Clear!" echoing up from the dark.
One by one, we followed. Kaelen basically tucked under one arm and jumped, which was humiliating but efficient. Mia and Cerberus ca next, the dog surprisingly nimble on his three legs, and Tybalt and Cian brought up the rear, clutching their bags like they were babies.
The "Marrow Room" wasn’t what I expected. It wasn’t a cave. It was a cathedral of white, pulsing fibers. It felt like we were inside a giant, living lung. The walls were soft, glowing with a faint, rhythmic light that matched the tree’s heartbeat. But the black veins were here too, crawling like spiders across the white surfaces.
And in the center of the room, suspended by dozens of black, thorny vines, was the anchor.
It looked like a heart made of obsidian. It was the size of a pumpkin, and it was beating. Every ti it contracted, it sent a wave of black sludge through the vines and into the tree’s "marrow."
"That is the grossest thing I have ever seen," Tybalt said, and he sounded like he was actually going to be sick this ti. "It’s a heart. A fake, evil heart. Ren, please tell we just have to stab it."
"We have to stab it," I said. "But look at the floor."
Around the base of the suspended heart, the ground was moving. It wasn’t just roots. It was people. Or things that used to be people.
They were elven guards, but their silver armor was fused to their skin by the black rot. Their eyes were gone, replaced by glowing violet crystals. They were standing perfectly still, like statues, until the first of us stepped onto the floor.
[Target: Blight-Husks (Level 32)]
[Status: Guarding.]
There were dozens of them.
"Okay," Red said, her daggers sliding into her hands with a familiar shing. "Normal fight. Finally. I was getting worried we’d have to talk our way out of this one too."
"Don’t let them touch you," I warned. "The rot is infectious. If they scratch you, the mana-drain starts."
"Good to know," Kaelen said. He drew The Prototype. The black blade didn’t glow here; it seed to absorb the dim light of the marrow room, making the shadows around Kaelen deepen. "Lysandra, take the left. Red, stay on the wings. Ren, get Mia to the back."
"Wait," Mia said, her voice sharp. "The heart... it’s not alone."
I followed her gaze to the top of the obsidian heart. A figure was sitting there, legs crossed, watching us with a bored expression.
He looked like an elf, but his skin was a pale, sickly grey, and his hair was made of black, thorny vines. He wore armor made of the sa obsidian as the heart.
[Target: The Blight-Walker (Fragnt Construct)]
[Level: 45]
"A construct," Cian whispered, his wand trembling. "The fragnt created a guardian using the mories of the forest. It’s a sentient manifestation of the rot."
The Blight-Walker stood up. He didn’t have a weapon. He just raised a hand, and the husks in the room began to scream—that sa sound Cian had described earlier. A magical, soul-tearing shriek.
"Guests," the construct said. His voice sounded like dry leaves rubbing together. "The Empire told you would co. They said you would try to steal the Mother’s pain."
"We aren’t stealing it," I said, stepping forward. I felt the weight of my Level 10 status, but I kept my voice steady. "We’re ending it. This tree isn’t yours to eat."
"Everything belongs to the Emperor eventually," the construct said. He gestured with a long, spindly finger. "Kill them. Save the marrow."
The husks charged.
"Go!" I yelled.
The room erupted into chaos. Kaelen was a wall of black steel, his claymore cleaving through three husks at once. Lysandra was a beacon of gold, her shield-bashes sending ripples of holy energy that turned the rot to ash. Red was a blur, darting between the slow-moving husks and severing their hamstrings before they could even turn around.
But the Blight-Walker wasn’t interested in them. He was looking at . And Mia.
"The Key," the construct whispered.
He vanished.
"Ren! Watch out!" Lysandra scread.
I didn’t see him move. I just felt a sudden, freezing pressure on my chest. I was thrown backward, sliding across the white, spongy floor.
I looked up. The Blight-Walker was standing where I had been a second ago. He was reaching for Mia.
"Get away from her!" Tybalt roared.
I have never seen Tybalt move that fast. He didn’t throw a muffin. He tackled the girl, rolling her out of the way just as a spike of black obsidian erupted from the floor.
The construct tilted his head. "The baker. Irrelevant."
He raised his hand for another strike.
"Cerberus! Now!" I shouted.
The three-legged dog launched himself. He didn’t bite the construct’s leg; he bit the shadow.
In the previous tiline, Cerberus wasn’t just a dog; he was a Soul-Eater. Even as a "puppy" in this tiline, he had the instinct. His teeth clamped down on the dark mana connecting the construct to the heart.
The Blight-Walker let out a choked sound, his form flickering.
"Cian! The scroll!" I yelled, scrambling to my feet. My chest felt like it had been hit by a carriage, but the adrenaline was keeping the Level 10 fatigue at bay for a few more seconds.
Cian unrolled the scroll we’d been saving since the Sky-Keep. It was a "Purification Circle" scroll, originally ant for cleansing high-level cursed items.
"I need ti!" Cian yelled, his hands shaking as he started the chant. "The mana-dampening is fighting ! It’s like trying to light a match in a hurricane!"
"We’ll give you ti!" Red shouted, vaulting over a husk and landing a kick on the construct’s face.
The fight moved into a new gear. Kaelen and Lysandra were pinned down by the sheer number of husks, who seed to be regenerating every ti they fell. The obsidian heart was pumping faster, the room turning darker as the Blight-Walker began to draw more power from the tree.
"Ren," Mia whispered. She was sitting on the floor, her eyes wide. "He’s hurting the tree. He’s using the roots to fight back."
The walls of the Marrow Room began to sprout thorns. Long, black spikes that hissed as they grew.
"I can’t hold them all!" Kaelen grunted, his sword glowing with a dark heat as he parried a dozen strikes at once. "Ren! Do sothing!"
I looked at the obsidian heart. I looked at the rusty knife in my hand.
I checked the ID card.
[Warning: Level 10 Status. Physical overexertion imminent.]
[Note: The Fragnt is vulnerable during a Pulse.]
"Tybalt!" I yelled. "The last two muffins! Give them to !"
"Ren, you’re going to blow us up!" Tybalt cried, but he reached into his bag and tossed the foil-wrapped bundles.
I caught them. They were warm. They slled like cinnamon and potential death.
"Everyone! Get behind Kaelen!" I scread.
"Ren, what are you doing?" Lysandra yelled, her shield glowing as she pushed back a wave of husks.
"Amputating!"
I ran. I didn’t head for the construct. I headed for the heart.
The Blight-Walker saw . "Foolish human. You cannot break the Empire’s anchor."
He sent a wave of black thorns toward .
I didn’t dodge. I felt a sharp pain in my shoulder as a thorn grazed , but I didn’t stop. I reached the base of the obsidian heart.
The heart pulsed.
Now.
I shoved both muffins—fire-salt and mana-reactive yeast—into the central crack of the obsidian heart.
And then I stabbed them with the rusty knife.
"Get down!"
I dove for the floor.
WHUMP.
It wasn’t a loud explosion. It was a pressure wave. A sudden, intense burst of heat that turned the black rot into white steam. The obsidian heart didn’t shatter; it lted.
The connection to the tree snapped.
The Blight-Walker let out a sound that wasn’t human. It was the sound of a falling mountain. His body began to dissolve, the black thorns turning into harmless grey ash.
The husks fell where they stood, the violet light in their eyes fading.
Silence returned to the Marrow Room. But it wasn’t the heavy, oily silence from before. It was a quiet, resting silence.
I lay on the floor, my chest heaving. I could feel my level dropping in my head—not literally, but the fatigue was finally winning.
"Is everyone... alive?" I asked, my face pressed against the soft, white fibers of the floor.
"I think I’ve lost a year of my life from stress," Tybalt’s voice said from sowhere nearby. "But yeah. I’m here."
"That was... remarkably stupid, Ren," Red said. I felt her hand on my back. "Do it again, and I’m charging you extra for the funeral."
"Noted," I mumbled.
I looked up.
The obsidian heart was gone. In its place, sitting on the floor, was a small, perfectly clear erald. It wasn’t pulsing with black light anymore. It was glowing with a soft, steady green.
The Life Fragnt. Cleaned.
"The tree," Mia whispered.
I looked at the walls. The black veins were receding. The white fibers were glowing brighter, the "marrow" of the World Tree beginning to heal.
We had done it.
We had stopped the rot.
But as I reached out to grab the fragnt, the room shook again. Not from the tree.
From above.
"Ren," Kaelen said, his voice grim as he looked at the ceiling. "The Covenant isn’t leaving. I think they’re trying to pull the tree down."
"Pull it down?" Cian asked. "It’s a mile high! You can’t just—"
"They have the fleet," I said, rembering Marek’s plan. "They aren’t mining anymore. They’re harvesting. If they can’t have the Life mana, they’ll take the timber. All of it."
I grabbed the Life Fragnt. It was warm in my hand, full of a vibrating energy that felt like a sumr afternoon.
"We need to get to the surface," I said, struggling to my feet. "If the Covenant pulls this tree down, they kill the whole forest. And half the continent with it."
"Ren, look at you," Lysandra said, stepping forward. "You can barely stand. You can’t fight a fleet like this."
"I’m not fighting a fleet," I said, looking at Mia.
"We’re giving the tree its voice back."
I looked at the ID card.
[Fragnt #3 Integrated.]
[New Skill Unlocked: Nature’s Resonance (Passive).]
[Note: The World Tree is listening.]
"Let’s go," I said. "We have a city to save. Again."
We headed for the stairs.
As we climbed, I looked at the dog. Cerberus was trotting along, his tail wagging. He looked happy.
"Hey, dog," I whispered. "You did good."
The dog nudged my hand with his cold nose.
We were Eclipse. We were the bakers, the thieves, the knights, and the mages.
And we were about to show the Empire what happens when you try to cut down our house.
[Arc Objective Update: Repel the Covenant Fleet.]
[Next Target: The Aethelgard Battlents.]
"Chapter twenty-three," I muttered as we hit the first level of the city. "The heart is beating. Now let’s see if the lungs can roar."
"Was that a poem, Ren?" Red asked.
"Shut up, Red."
"Yeah, that was definitely a poem."
The doors to the city opened, and the sll of smoke and war rushed in to et us.
The real fight was just starting. Again.
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