Unfamiliar mories began to pierce through the haze of a faint consciousness.
Like paint saturating a canvas, the scene swiftly materialized, transforming what was once a blank expanse into a vibrant tableau.
It was the start of a peculiarly vivid dream.
A scorching sun hung high in the sky, casting its rays upon a lush forest alive with the symphony of birdcalls, enveloped in a stifling humidity. There was just one place on the entire continent that had such a unique climate.
This was the Great Forest of the Southern Ten Kingdoms, a dangerous land teeming with venomous insects, monstrous creatures, and remnants of the ancient evil god. Deep within its confines dwelled the 'Vampire' and her legion of demonic beasts, earning the forest its moniker, the Verdant Sanctuary.
Human inhabitants within the forest belonged to two distinct groups: ascetics who sought rigorous training, and social outcasts banished from their communities for their transgressions.
Yet, amidst the perils of this forbidden domain, sanctuaries existed. Ford primarily by ascetic communities, these enclaves served as outposts, both safeguarding against and to protect the Great Forest.
The demonic beasts living in the Great Forest were all strong and ruthless. The prospect of even a fraction of these creatures venturing beyond its borders spelled disaster. Should the Vampire erge from her lair at the heart of the forest, calamity would surely follow.
Over the last few centuries, nurous endeavors were made to subdue the 'Vampire,' yet each attempt ended in defeat, a testant to both the ferocity of the forest's denizens and the Vampire's own prowess as a demonic human.
A power greater than re mortals was required to restrain her, a duty entrusted to none other than the Great Witch, revered as the Royal Godmother of the Southern Kingdoms.
As one of the only three Masters on the continent, the Great Witch guarded the Great Forest for centuries, and throughout this long history, she quietly lived in seclusion.
Yet, like a beacon of light in the darkness, her presence drew countless seekers. So brought cryptic puzzles only she could unravel; others simply yearned for a fleeting audience; and a select few aspired to beco her disciples.
These disciples ford communities and guarded the forest boundaries while receiving her teachings, thus forming the backbone of the forest's safe havens.
However, the Great Witch shunned the lilight, seldom accepting disciples.
To earn such a privilege, one must first locate her abode—an arduous feat in itself, with nine out of ten aspirants either turning back or eting their demise in the perilous forest.
Nevertheless, among those who succeeded, the majority returned to the world having accumulated significant accomplishnts.
Thus, many harbored a fervent desire to be under her tutelage. And then, one day, word spread like wildfire: the Great Witch was once again seeking disciples after decades of solitude.
Hundreds braved the perils of the Great Forest to kneel before her, yet only twenty erged as the chosen disciples of the Great Witch, having surmounted nurous challenges and trials.
Remarkably, among them, the one appointed as the head disciple hailed from an unassuming lineage—a humble scion of a rural viscount.
He was a young man with black hair and golden eyes.
Standing in front of a block of wood, he was bathed in sweat. No matter how much he wiped his forehead, he couldn't stop the sweating.
Clasped in his hand was a hatchet.
Gripped firmly in his hand was a hatchet, yet even with both hands, he struggled to wield it against the stubborn piece of firewood.
“Huu…”
The man steadied his breath and fixed his gaze upon the piece of wood before him, mustering all his strength to swing the hatchet once more.
-Thuuuk!
A dull thud echoed as a splinter flew off.
"…This damn...!"
Unable to contain himself any longer, the man finally erupted in frustration, flinging the hatchet to the ground.
His labored breathing spoke volus of how much he had been restraining himself. After all, it was rare for a respected academy graduate, such as himself, to face the humiliation of failing to chop a wooden log.
But there was a good reason behind his struggle.
Filled with indignation, the man bellowed out.
"Just why the hell is she using the World Tree as firewood?!"
This was the crux of the matter, the root of his frustration.
The log he had been diligently attempting to split turned out to be a branch from the World Tree. It was a scene that would have caused the elves, who were exiled to the north, to foam at the mouth.
Nestled at the heart of the Great Forest, the World Tree stretched its branches in every direction, with the abode of the Great Witch perched atop one of its sprawling limbs.
Living up to its grand na, the World Tree was renowned for yielding rare, top quality materials. Its leaves possessed potent healing properties and could be transford into coveted magical ingredients through skilled processing. Its branches and sap were equally prized.
Yet, to squander these precious branches as re firewood…
It was a regrettable waste of resources, especially when countless orphans were succumbing to starvation across the continent.
As the man grumbled, an irritated voice interjected from the side.
"Hey, grumble in moderation... Do you think you’re the only one struggling out here?"
The man's golden eyes shifted towards the snarky voice.
There, a small girl was crouched in front of a hearth, fervently fanning the flas.
With her broad-brimd mage hat, and her bloodshot sapphire-blue eyes betraying her prolonged struggle, she stood out amidst the scene.
The man clicked his tongue in annoyance.
"Tsk. Do you honestly believe glaring at it like that will ignite the fire? This isn't just any firewood; it's from the World Tree."
"…As if I wasn’t frustrated enough already… Now you're getting on my nerves?!"
Provoked by his comnt, the short girl swiftly rose to her feet, growling like a puppy with its fur raised.
"I-I specialize in lightning magic! This task should be left to soone who specializes in fire!"
"Let's not resort to flimsy excuses. So what? Do you think the hatchet is my main weapon?"
Upon hearing the man's retort, the girl lowered her gaze. However, as she raised her eyes again after a brief shake of her head, they glead with untad ferocity, crackling with lightning in her grasp.
"T-this fucking bastard… Think I'm a pushover just cause I’ve been holding myself back, huh?! I’ll roast you thoroughly, from your brain all the way down to your toes, you fu-!"
"I'm going to tell our master."
The girl froze, her nacing threat abruptly halted by that brief, indifferent statent.
Then, she began to stamr, her expression betraying a sense of panic.
"Hey, hey, hey! D-Don’t you have any sha as a grown-ass man?! T-tattling for every little thing!"
Even as he observed the girl’s nervous outburst, the man rely shook his head in a disinterested manner and sighed.
"What does my pride matter when establishing the proper hierarchy among fellow disciples? I know it’s tough to accept, but it’s ti you faced it. Junior Sister, you should address as 'Senior Brother' from now on and show resp-"
"AAH! AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!I CAN’T HEAR YOU! I CAN’T HEAR YOUUU!!"
The girl imdiately covered her ears and sank to the ground, throwing a tantrum as if she was a child.
The man looked exasperated as he witnessed the small girl’s hysterics.
Soon after, the girl staggered to her feet, shuffled over, and jabbed the man in the side with her elbow.
"N-Now that I think about it, aren’t you also a graduate of the academy? You brat. If I was your senior at the academy, then I’ll always be your senior… Tsk! How dare you try to act up without knowing your place?!"
"Those very words, I’ll tell Mas-"
"AAAAAAAAH!ALWAYS 'MASTER, MASTER, MASTER' FOR EVERY LITTLE THING!"
The girl's frustrated cry montarily silenced the man.
He wore an expression that dared her to continue—a challenge she readily accepted,
"Be honest, aren't you annoyed too? I ca here to learn as a disciple, not to beco so sort of maid! All I do every day is clean, light fires, and cook!"
"Hmm…"
The young man stroked his chin as if acknowledging her point.
Seeing this, the girl slyly pressed on.
"You as well. What kind of fuc… lunatic expects you to chop away at the World Tree for firewood? And not even with your main weapon but with a hatchet! Isn't this just plain harassnt?"
The man believed that soone as esteed as the Great Witch wouldn’t resort to such asures, yet he couldn’t help but feel slightly swayed. Like the girl, he had also been toiling away at aningless tasks for far too long.
Chop the World Tree into firewood with your hatchet instead of your sword.
It defied all logic.
The girl prattled on with increasing excitent as she realized her words were making an impact.
"I think that granny’s gone a little cuckoo from all those centuries cooped up here. Let’s face it, spending hundreds of years in this stifling place is bound to..."
"Is bound to?"
"Well, make her crazy ri…ght?"
The giggling girl hastily clamped her mouth shut when she heard the questioning voice of a woman.
Her blue eyes widened as she slowly turned to glance behind her.
Behind them stood a child who had silently approached the man and the girl.
At first glance, the child appeared to be a mid-teen girl with black hair and light green eyes. But in reality, she was a monster amongst monsters, having lived for hundreds of years. She was one of the three Masters of the continent, revered and feared as the 'Great Witch of the South'.
The chattering girl's face paled as she scrambled to concoct an excuse, her voice trembling.
"M-Master... S-So, uh… S-Senior Brother provoked first!"
Watching the color drain from the girl’s face, the Great Witch simply puffed smoke from her pipe and snorted.
"Don't be ridiculous."
With a single flick of her finger, the world turned white as lightning struck down.
The deafening crackle and the dancing electricity showcased the overwhelming might of the spell. It was so potent that even a high-ranking mage specializing in lightning wouldn’t stand a chance against it.
A prolonged scream ripped from the girl's throat.
"KYAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"
The scent of singed flesh filled the air as her body collapsed limply.
Yet, the Great Witch remained apathetic.
"…Tsk. Such theatrics."
Then, her gaze shifted to her head disciple, the young man who was nervously sweating buckets.
Just eting her gaze made his body involuntarily tremble.
"Do you think so as well?"
"…Huh?"
Caught off guard by her unexpectedly gentle tone, he blinked in confusion.
Unimpressed by his dazed response, the Great Witch tapped her pipe against his arm as she repeated her question.
"Do you think what you’ve been doing is pointless?"
"W-Well, about that…"
Unable to bring himself to lie to his master, the words struggled to leave his lips.
Seeing his hesitation, the Great Witch snorted in understanding.
With a flick of her finger, the hatchet the young man had discarded earlier floated into the air.
"I’m only going to demonstrate it once, so watch closely."
*
Doubt began to creep in.
The dream lingered longer than before—so long that my consciousness flickered back and forth.
From where exactly am I observing this dream?
Suddenly, my view of the dream narrowed, focusing solely on the Great Witch and the levitating hatchet.
My vision rged with that of the young man.
That young man, the Great Witch's head disciple, was /genesisforsaken
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