Chapter 110: The Center of the World and the Protagonist (2) |
Chapter 110: The Center of the World and the Protagonist (2)
“…No response.”
The First Prince of the Empire frowned and muttered under his breath.
They had been thoroughly deceived by Black Fangs. The group’s true identity, the truth about the Hero—so many critical matters piled up like a mountain.
And yet, he still couldn’t contact his father.
The special nature of the location known as the Demon Realm was to blame.
It continuously interfered with communication.
Just knowing that someone like him—who was supposed to stand at the very center of the world—was nearly killed by a mere terrorist was already intolerable. If it hadn’t been for the corpse puppet, he might not even be alive. The thought alone was revolting.
Now, even after uncovering such vital information, he couldn’t relay it. The sheer frustration contorted the First Prince’s expression even more.
“This seems to be a space that doesn’t allow any physical intrusion,” reported Karl.
A barrier of dark shadow surrounded the unconscious girl.
They could clearly see her collapsed within it, yet there was no way to reach her.
Even so, leaving her behind wasn’t an option. She could attempt to escape through the shadow passage again or call her allies. Someone needed to stay behind to respond.
In the end, they were trapped here. Despite capturing a hostage, they themselves were the ones who ended up bound—a twisted, absurd situation.
It was absolutely infuriating.
The First Prince took a deep breath and steadied himself.
‘Still… a capture is a capture.’
And they had obtained valuable intel. At this point, it was fair to say the operation had succeeded.
The Elf chieftain had once confidently claimed that the Hero’s location could be pinpointed through a certain ritual—no need to trace him manually, just wait for him to show up at the ancestral rite.
Though that bastard never appeared at the rite and the plan had technically failed, trusting the chieftain one more time turned out to be the right move.
Besides, breaking through this barrier was only a matter of time.
‘Good thing I planned thoroughly.’
There was no way to establish communication from within the Demon Realm—but that only meant he had to send the message before entering.
Just before departure, he had requested reinforcements.
A powerful figure—one who could be useful when facing Black Fangs, who likely had dealings with demons.
A man already being referred to by some as the next Pope.
In other words, Cardinal Dominic.
He should arrive within two days at the latest.
With his power, a demonic barrier like this would be child’s play to dismantle. There was no need to worry just because things weren’t going perfectly at the moment.
It was just two days.
What could possibly go wrong in two days?
****
An office deep within the Great Forest.
In the stillness of that quiet room, the sound of teeth grinding echoed harshly.
It came from none other than the Elf Chieftain.
‘That damn girl—just how much more of my life does she plan to ruin before she’s satisfied?!’
When the First Prince first contacted him, he thought it was the opportunity of a lifetime.
The perfect chance to secure his own rise in power and get rid of the cursed brat—whose mere existence was an insult to their race.
But of all times, she chose this year to skip the ancestral rite—as if mocking him.
The First Prince, who had even mobilized troops to capture the Hero, naturally flew into a rage.
And the chieftain… suddenly found himself one step away from losing his head.
To calm the prince, he explained that a separate ritual was still underway, unrelated to the rite, and that it would reveal her location soon enough.
But the result? A missing right arm.
The First Prince had reasoned that while a severed neck would end the ritual, an arm wouldn’t—and lopped off his right arm without hesitation.
Even that didn’t seem to appease his fury. The prince had issued a chilling warning: If the next information is wrong too, I’ll take your head next time.
So much for a glorious rise—now the chieftain was barely struggling to survive.
A failure of epic proportions.
But he couldn’t disobey the First Prince. That would be suicide.
Just like always, he muttered curses at that wretched girl and rubbed the empty space where his arm used to be—when—
Bang!
The door burst open.
Someone barged into the chieftain’s office without even knocking.
Such an absurd breach of etiquette.
The chieftain spun around, ready to scold the elf for losing their mind.
But before he could say anything, the young elf who had entered shouted in a panicked voice:
“W-We have a problem! An intruder… an intruder—!”
His tone was grave.
Cold sweat rolled down his throat.
But the chieftain remained unimpressed.
“A newbie, huh? You’re panicking over something like that? Don’t even bother reporting that stuff to me. Just deal with it.”
Whether they were captured for alchemical ingredients or sold as slaves—
Elves were known to fetch a high price. That made them popular targets for hunters hoping to strike it rich.
But the fate of humans who dared invade the Great Forest was always the same.
Death.
A death so gruesome, so absolute, it was beyond words.
But that was the natural outcome.
An overwhelmingly longer lifespan, innate talent far beyond human reach—
If not for the restriction of being unable to leave the World Tree, there would be no race stronger than the Elves.
Surely, by the time that overdramatic fool had rushed in to report, the matter had already been dealt with. The Elf Chieftain didn’t doubt it for a second.
…At least, not until he heard the next words.
“The intruder has defeated twelve of our Guardians—alone—and is approaching the World Tree!”
The chieftain’s face turned pale. He shot up from his seat and ran out.
****
I kept walking.
I knew what had to be done—and how to do it.
There was no reason to hesitate.
“Wait, what are you doing?! This area is restricted! Take one more step, and I’ll be forced to kill—”
I smashed through the one blocking my path.
“Get help! Now! Call the Guardians!”
It didn’t matter if they were broken. I could fix them. Even if they turned into hunks of meat, I had the power to restore them at will.
“What… What are you trying to do to us…?”
So there was no need for mercy in my hands.
“You filthy human bastard! How much more do you have to take before you’re satisfied?!”
I had no reason to show kindness to those who took from me—who made me lose what was mine.
And I had no desire to show it either.
“M-Monster…”
The final obstacle uttered those words… and collapsed.
The First Guardian.
A so-called genius on the verge of reaching archmage-level magic.
None of that mattered.
As long as divine power surged endlessly through me, I would not die.
And with a body already beyond normal, reinforced by magic, no weapon could leave a scratch.
Not even sword aura—wielded by warriors with years of training and enlightenment—could pierce me.
So I do not lose.
Covered in blood, I finally stood before my goal.
The World Tree.
The tree said to be the source of all life.
Its reputation wasn’t exaggerated. Its presence was utterly overwhelming.
I stared at it for a long time…
Then slowly turned my head and looked behind me.
There he stood—an old Elf with one arm missing—cautiously approaching me.
Our eyes met.
For a moment, he hesitated in disbelief… and then opened his mouth.
“Stop. I say this for your own good.”
A serious tone from the old Elf. But there was no way I’d stop just because of that.
I turned away.
Even if he attacked, it wouldn’t work on me. There was no time to waste.
I drew a spell circle in the air.
Of course, I never properly studied magic. I only took a few hours of lectures from Siel.
And no human can reach the level of archmage after a few hours of instruction.
But that didn’t matter.
The spell circle formed in midair.
I gathered magic, distorted reality, and overlaid it with my own intent—it sounded complicated…
But really, I was just casting a basic fireball.
There wasn’t much else a 1st-circle mage could use anyway.
Still, there was… something different.
“Th-This is…”
Overload.
Multi-casting.
A method often described as the most absurd, suicidal technique imaginable.
In other words—I had constructed thousands of spells simultaneously.
Normally, no matter how vast your mana reserves, doing this would overload your brain, cause your head to explode, and cancel the spells.
But that didn’t apply to me.
If my head exploded, I could just recover—then release the spells afterward. No big deal.
“St-Stop! Do you even understand what happens to those who lay a hand on the World Tree?!”
The old Elfshouted desperately.
And he was right.
That wasn’t a bluff. It would be far more suspicious if someone burned a sacred tree and didn’t face any divine punishment.
Even so, I didn’t stop.
Hundreds—no, thousands of sparks.
Red light swallowed the world.
With an ear-splitting sonic boom, the great tree rapidly began to lose its form.
The moment he saw it, the one-armed Elf collapsed to the ground in tears.
“Do you even know what you’ve just done?! It’s not just us who are doomed now! You’ve destroyed your own future with your own hands!”
He shouted at me.
But I calmly replied:
“So what?”
[The authority of ■■ nullifies the curse of the World Tree.]
[Gluttony Buff activated. Absorbing all traits of defeated entity: World Tree.]
His expression twisted in confusion.
Of course it would.
I hadn’t screamed or rotted away.
He wasn’t dying from life force drain, either.
He must’ve realized something was very wrong.
So I looked down at the Elf Chieftain and said:
“Still not getting it, are you…?”
From now on, I am the World Tree.
Whether to preserve their lives—or erase them—is now entirely up to me.
In other words…
“If I can’t save my girl… all of you die.”
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