Chapter 824 |
“Senior Tree!”
Rookie cried out, startled. As the tree staggered, Young Chaos drew his sword. His eyes closed. His senses, sharpened to a terrifying edge, swept rapidly around the World Tree. A thread of mana, so fine it was nearly imperceptible, caught against his perception. Chaos swung his sword without hesitation.
Slice–
The thread that had burrowed into the tree was cut away. At the same moment, the World Tree’s form shrank drastically, changing into a small humanoid figure before collapsing to the ground with a thud. Rookie hurried to his side.
“Are you all right? What in the world was that…!”
“A… bug…”
The tree lifted his head with difficulty and spoke. The screams of his own kind were still ringing endlessly in his ears.
A bug.
“I don’t know… what happened, exactly… but it was a bug.”
Young Chaos narrowed his eyes and looked into the darkness, where the cries of the World Tree species were echoing.
“No. Surely not. But that bastard should have died long ago.”
“Long ago? What do you mean?”
“There was once a Transcendent who devoured World Tree-species Transcendents. He was so hard even my sword wouldn’t pierce him, but in the end, the other Transcendents joined forces and dealt with him.”
“A Transcendent… who eats Transcendents…”
Rookie, who had been murmuring to himself, suddenly flinched. Chaos also clenched his teeth. The power of the World Tree-species Transcendents was gathering into one place.
And at the same time, a path began to open.
Toward the dream world.
“Honey!”
It was a small bug.
A bug just a little tougher than the others of its kind, with just a little stronger vitality. In truth, there was nothing especially remarkable about it. By sheer chance, it ended up buried deep underground.
A thin crack had opened during a great earthquake. The fall seemed endless, but the bug survived with only part of its body slightly warped out of shape. It lived because it was small and worthless, and therefore light. Soil poured down over it, and before long, the crack was sealed shut. Even if the crevice had remained open, it was far too deep for the bug to ever escape.
It was a species that, even under normal circumstances, grew underground as a larva, gnawing at or sucking nutrients from tree roots. So the bug did not panic. Following instinct, it moved to fill its hunger. With no eyes and no ears, relying only on its sense of smell, it dug through the earth.
But no plant had roots reaching down to the deep, deep place where the bug had fallen. It pressed on stubbornly, then pressed on again, but all it touched was dirt and stone. Terrible thirst descended over the bug. Its once-smooth shell began to dry out, crisp and brittle.
Hungry hungry hungry hungry.
The bug desperately moved forward. Any other bug would have tired, stopped, and shriveled to death, but this bug was just a little more tenacious, and so it lasted just a little longer.
And at last, it found a single fine root.
The only tree whose roots had stretched down into the depths of the earth.
The World Tree.
The bug clung greedily to the World Tree’s rootlet. Soon, sweet sap filled its empty belly.
Even a World Tree was not free of insects. If anything, it harbored all manner of life in proportion to its immense size. The colossal tree, possessing tremendous vitality, did not reject the tiny bugs that clung to it. No matter how voracious an insect might be, it could only nibble at a bit of the surface. It could not even bore through the bark, let alone reach the innermost heart of that giant tree’s veins.
So a single bug clinging to a rootlet was nothing special.
If only the bug had grown in the ordinary way, broken through the ground, and flown up into the air.
Clinging to the rootlet of the World Tree, the bug grew. Its body was a little larger than others of its kind, but not so different. On the surface, the seasons changed, and the bug understood by instinct that it was time to leave. It released the root and began to climb upward.
Digging and digging, digging again, clawing through the earth without end.
Had it been buried at a normal depth, it would have seen the moonlit sky ten times over. But the bug was still in the dirt.
It could not escape.
For its small body, this was an abyss it could climb for months, years, even decades, and still never crawl out of.
In the end, the time passed. The season when bugs slept approached, and the bug that had failed to escape also stopped climbing. It clung to the World Tree’s rootlet once more and waited for the next year.
The nourishment the World Tree’s roots provided was more than enough. The bug grew larger. Now it was more than twice the size of its kin.
Still, it was small.
Still, it could not leave the underground.
The bug that should have climbed to the surface, reproduced, met winter, and rotted away as nutrients remained beneath the earth instead.
One year passed, then another. Though any ordinary bug should already have reached the end of its lifespan, it lived a little longer. That slight difference piled upon itself, again and again, and the bug continued to grow.
Now the rootlets were no longer enough. Its hardened mouthparts pierced into the thick roots of the World Tree. Its warped body, too, grew larger and thicker.
After failure upon failure, the bug gave up on reaching the surface.
Instead, it ate and ate, and grew and grew.
“The World Tree is bearing less fruit.”
On the surface, the bug’s influence slowly began to show. The giant tree produced fewer flowers, and its fruit ripened poorly. Some of its lush branches dried out. Leaves that should have lived longer died early and fell. The spirits dwelling in the World Tree’s forest grew uneasy, and those with the ability to commune with plants struggled to discover the cause.
– A bug.
The World Tree said there was a bug gnawing at it.
Every race began removing the insects clinging to the giant tree. Aboveground and belowground. Yet not one among them could reach the deep, deep place beneath the earth.
Nor could the World Tree remove the bug clinging to its roots. It had not yet become a Transcendent. It was still only a tree. Once it had rooted in one place, it could not flee by its own power.
So instead, the World Tree created poison. It sent warnings to those trying to protect it, then filled its enormous body with toxins. The poison reached the bug as well.
The bug felt excruciating pain.
But the bug that had been just a little stronger than its kin had now become sturdier beyond comparison to any of its kind, or even any subspecies.
Even the powerful poison became nourishment for the bug. The bug survived, and it became stronger still.
The World Tree had no other method. It gave up on filling itself with poison and cried out more desperately for help.
The entire world threw itself into saving the World Tree.
The World Tree was one of the great pillars of the ecosystem. If that giant tree vanished, the damage would spiral beyond control. The land no longer held by its roots would quake. The heat no longer absorbed would erupt in volcanoes. The greatest source of water would disappear, rivers would dry out, the air would grow far murkier, and the countless forests connected to the World Tree would be smothered in death.
All manner of healing power poured into it. Nutrients were infused.
At the same time, the search for the culprit continued. Scapegoats appeared everywhere, killed unfairly under accusations of having cursed the tree. The king of one nation was even strung from a high tower, declared responsible for what had happened.
Beneath all that chaos, the bug’s world was quiet.
The bug, which had only ever repeated the two acts of eating and growing, slowly began to head upward. Its body, grown enormous, wanted something more than roots.
Above.
The central vein flowing through the middle of the World Tree’s trunk.
The bug moved toward that sweet place. Along the way, it gnawed and sucked at roots, making its way toward the surface.
The underground had once seemed like a place it could never escape.
But the bug now was no longer small or weak.
The surface came rapidly closer.
But before the bug could emerge on its own—
“A… a monster!”
The people searching for the culprit that was drying the World Tree to death discovered the bug first. Between the pits of dug-up soil, a black, solid shell appeared.
The bug slowly lifted its body.
Though sunlight touched it, it did not feel it. It did not hear the people’s terrified screams or furious shouts.
To the bug’s senses, there was only the central vein of the World Tree.
“A bug! That bug was gnawing away at the World Tree!”
People rushed at it with weapons in hand.
But there was no blade capable of piercing the black shell. Not even a scratch appeared on it. A swordsman who could cut down anything and a mage who could overturn the earth itself were both powerless before the bug.
“It’s heading for the World Tree!”
“Stop it! Stop it no matter what!”
All they had to do was prevent the bug from eating the World Tree.
Having given up on killing it, the people began blocking its path. Magic meant to lift it into the air or move it elsewhere did not work. The power of mana contained within the bug was far greater than that of any mage.
“Tie down its legs!”
“Pull!”
Thick chains and sturdy ropes were gathered. Chains and ropes wrapped around the bug’s body again and again. Strong livestock, machines, and grown men clung to the ends of them.
After a desperate struggle, at last—
Screeeeech–
The enormous bug was dragged backward.
The cursed monster moved a little farther away from the World Tree.
Amid the people’s cheers, the bug became aware of its surroundings for the first time.
Something had moved its body.
It could not go forward.
It still had no eyes and no ears, but the bug began to use the mana filling it, clumsily though it was. It started to sense the surrounding mana. The surrounding beings.
– Ah.
For the first time, something other than itself entered the bug’s world.
Not simple food, but beings that moved and spoke. Countless such things had gathered there.
Then it saw the sky.
Birds flew across the high, brilliant blue.
Screech, scrape, grrrind.
The bug’s body was dragged backward again.
The bug looked forward.
A tree.
An endlessly enormous tree.
“Good! Drag it all the way to the sea like this!”
“Drown the damn thing!”
It could not understand the words.
The bug was confused.
And it was hungry.
Now that it had begun using mana, the tree ahead looked even more delicious. The bug sensed the chains and ropes wrapped around it and tried to free itself.
But how?
The bug had never fought or resisted anything that moved. It had only eaten and grown.
As it was being dragged away, unable to find a way out, it remembered the poison that had tormented it. The ropes and chains were not living things, but the bug thought simply. The poison had made it suffer, so perhaps the things binding its body would feel the same.
Grrrrrind–
The World Tree grew even more distant. The force pulling the bug gained speed. The people’s shouts rose higher. They leaped and cried out in joy. They embraced one another, saying they were saved.
Amid all that, the bug drew out poison.
Viscous venom began to ooze over its black shell.
Hissssss!
The ropes and chains that touched the poison melted away. Then, snap, snap, snap—everything binding the bug’s entire body broke apart.
The cheering vanished.
In the fallen silence, the bug began to move forward.
“W–what the hell!”
“It’s poison!”
The bug set its legs down among the people thrown into confusion. Its body was not suited to walking on the ground, so it moved slowly. Still, it was advancing toward the World Tree.
They had to stop it.
But how?
The bug continued walking.
The poison leaking from it was so powerful now that they could not even approach. The people, who had been staring helplessly at the bug, began moving once more. They built walls before it.
But no matter how hard the stone, no matter how well-tempered the steel—
Scrape, scrape.
Nothing could withstand the bug’s forelegs.
The bug slowly dug through the walls. The people slowly sank into despair.
There was no way.
No power could pierce the bug’s shell. They could not hold it in place. They could not block its path. Even if they dug a pit and dropped it in, this monster had crawled up from underground to begin with.
The bug advanced.
A few threw themselves in front of it, but it made no difference. They were crushed underfoot or died from poison. People wept, screamed, and cursed it. Others prayed and begged. A revered saint bowed his head before the bug, declaring that he would take on all sin.
The bug passed him by.
Rulers shouted that they would give it anything it wanted.
The bug did not understand their words.
A slow, dull bug with no ability except to wrap itself in poison.
The mere sight of it walking forward, slowly and steadily, spread as the greatest terror of all.
At last, the bug reached the World Tree’s trunk.
People watched, powerless.
Long, sharp mouthparts emerged and pierced the bark.
Even then, the end did not arrive at once.
The darkness was slow, and it was long.
The bug began sucking the central vein of the World Tree, and the tree slowly withered.
Some, refusing to give up, attacked the bug, but it was meaningless. A few began hopeless preparations for survival, while the majority let everything go.
The World Tree absorbed every nutrient around it in order to live. The forests connected to the World Tree vanished rapidly. The land grew barren, and the waters dried up.
All that effort tasted sweet to the bug.
– What am I?
The bug came to know the world.
The world it was swallowing.
But it did not stop eating. It came to understand the words of people and felt their resentment, but there was no reason to stop.
Craaaaack–
The enormous trunk split apart.
The leaves were already gone, and countless branches had broken away. The hollowed-out tree collapsed.
Every river and lake dried up. The earth split, and the heat bursting from beneath melted it. The seas, too, shrank, rotting away together with the creatures inside them. In air that had become difficult even to breathe, no intelligent life remained.
The bug devoured its own world.
And thus it became a Transcendent.
Yet the bug was still a bug.
Its shell could no longer be breached by anyone. Several Transcendents attacked the bug that devoured World Tree-species Transcendents, but its shell did not break.
– Trees.
The bug’s food.
The nests of life that so many beings had tried to protect.
No matter how many World Trees it drank, its thirst did not disappear. Instead, it worsened. It was a hunger whose cause it did not know.
The bug stood upon a snowfield.
It looked at a snow-white tree, more enormous and more beautiful than any tree it had ever seen.
– The Snowfall Tree.
The Source.
A being that created all life and all worlds, surpassing even the World Trees.
If it obtained the power of the Source, would this thirst stop?
No.
If it became the Source itself.
The bug, which had only ever eaten and grown, staged its own death.
And then it began making its garden.
It was different from a World Tree from birth. It was the opposite of sharing, nurturing, and bringing forth life.
It was a bug that only swallowed.
The bug became the Gardener.
It created and tended a small world called a garden. But that was only a model garden, nothing more. It had no power to create worlds. It could only imitate them, based on the World Trees it had devoured.
Even so, the Gardener did not give up.
It managed its garden while quietly planting its power inside newly born World Tree-species Transcendents.
It was an obsession that did not fade even across endless time.
A vicious desire.
– What you seek will be brought to you by fire.
One day, the silent White Bird spoke.
– The wish even you do not know you have. So grant what the fire desires.
White Bird asked the Gardener to help her protect the Snowfall Tree.
Because it did not want the Source to disappear, and because she told it that it could receive what it wanted in exchange, the Gardener helped White Bird.
– A pseudo-Origin.
Creating a lunar eclipse that would swallow the pseudo-Origin that would one day appear was no easy task. The Gardener said it would only create and scatter the seed in which the lunar eclipse’s power would gather, and that the lunar eclipse itself would form through a mechanism like the Source’s immune system. Even so, it took a considerable amount of the power of the World Tree-species Transcendents it had gathered.
– What I want is the power of the Source.
If it obtained the pseudo-Origin, surely that would be enough.
But White Bird spoke of fire.
Ordinary, commonplace fire.
The Gardener could not understand White Bird’s words, but it waited.
Enduring and waiting was what bugs did best.
“Please help us avoid Crescent Moon’s eyes.”
One day, the Puppeteer and his child came to it.
They were beings connected to the pseudo-Origin. The Gardener accepted them. Even if the lunar eclipse brought the pseudo-Origin to the Gardener, it would still need a way to sever his contract with Crescent Moon. If Sigma were used properly, obtaining the pseudo-Origin would become easier as well.
But still, there was no fire.
Time flowed on again.
The lunar eclipse was born, and the Gardener waited. It scattered seeds in that world, hoping they would become its limbs, but there was nothing useful. While the Gardener watched, unable to interfere, the lunar eclipse failed to swallow the pseudo-Origin. The Puppeteer fled with his child.
The Gardener began to grow anxious.
What it wanted still had not come into its hands.
The bug was still a bug.
Then White Bird’s existence disappeared.
The contract connected to her was severed completely as well. The Gardener followed the traces of White Bird’s contract.
The Snowfall Tree.
Beneath it.
– Fire.
A trace of fire remained, with the origin of its existence gone.
There was no way a mere trace like this could be what it wanted. The Gardener left the trace of fire behind and returned.
Not long after, the Puppeteer began to move.
“A contract is a contract, after all. If your side takes the pseudo-Origin, you’ll have no more reason to care about my kid, right?”
Perhaps it was the influence of time being turned back. Among the useless seeds, one decent specimen had appeared. The Gardener lent that seed to the Puppeteer.
– Is that the fire?
At last, it learned of Han Yujin and the fire Han Yujin carried.
The Gardener went once more to the trace of fire beneath the Snowfall Tree. It awakened that fire and made a contract with it. It still did not know exactly what White Bird’s prophecy pointed to, but it moved with the pseudo-Origin as its goal.
Using the trace of fire as the foundation, it obtained fire itself.
Then it sent down the World Tree-species Transcendents into whom it had planted its own power. If those World Tree-species Transcendents had safely captured the pseudo-Origin, that would have settled the matter for the time being.
But—
– The pseudo-Origin cannot escape.
Because every Transcendent would be after him.
But the fire.
And there was also the threat of Crescent Moon.
The Gardener rose.
Buried beneath the garden from long, long ago, the bug lifted its head.
It wanted World Trees.
It wanted the power of the Source.
– What I want is…
This ancient thirst was…
Moving directly was dangerous. Even if it was the dream world, even if the Gardener drew upon the power of the World Tree-species Transcendents, it would take damage. It was merely hard, and nothing more. The Gardener’s combat ability was still low.
Even so, it could wait no longer.
The bug climbed to the surface.
–TL Notes–
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