Ch.494Episode 17 – The Blood-Drinking Tree (End)

# It was a magical moment.

Though I could handle neither divine power nor magic, no more perfect expression came to mind.

The clouds parted to reveal a field of stars, and earthly stars flowed across the desert.

One by one, fireflies rose above the mud walls.

Fireflies traveling along vines from the pitch-black darkness continued their blue wingbeats, and countless stars illuminated both sky and earth in blue light.

In the gradually fading starlight.

The girl turned her head, her red hair fluttering.

With serene silence.

Drawing an eternal smile.

It was a magical moment.

# Episode 17 – The Blood-Drinking Tree

Camilla, lying languidly, showed no signs of getting up. She must have been extremely tired, sprawled out flat on the ground.

“Hiya… this is exhausting…”

Camilla burst into laughter with a sense of defeat. As if she didn’t know what to do with herself, feeling good despite her strength draining away and weariness washing over her.

I carefully shook her.

“Are you alive?”

“I’m not dead…!”

“Well, that’s good enough.”

Thank goodness.

Leaving her limp limbs behind, I lifted my head to look at the landscape Camilla had created.

The blood-drinking tree that had devoured dozens of people. The tree was still burning. With pale flames, quietly and peacefully.

“…It burns well.”

“Sir Knight.”

“Yes?”

Francesca, standing at the edge of the roof, called to me in a gentle voice. After briefly meeting my gaze, she gestured with her chin as if to say “look at this.”

Toward the overgrown plants and people who had transformed into monsters.

“The attacks have stopped.”

The bizarre creatures that had endlessly raged and hated against all living things no longer existed.

They stood as if nailed in place, endlessly staring at the pale burning tree.

-…

-…

-…

As the burning flames blossomed in the air, blue fireflies adorned the sky. In the waves created by starlight and firelight, nature and humans departed.

The sunset fades. A moon halo rises. All that remains are soulless bodies and withering nature.

A lonely radiance begins to illuminate the dead and plants trapped in the embers’ neighborhood.

As a whale guides the souls of the dead westward, stars twinkle in the dark, silent night sky.

Francesca turned her gaze away from the slum where peace had arrived and murmured while looking up at the sky.

“…It’s peaceful.”

I stroked my chest pocket and took out a cigarette, handing it to her. After borrowing the cigarette, she lent me her fire.

Smoke rose. Bodies that had lost consciousness lay down on the ground, falling into eternal sleep. The pale flames burned the tree, and faint embers lit the tobacco.

And so, we silently watched the stars flowing across the desert.

*

There are absolute truths in this world that never change. Rules also known as principles or ways.

If you borrow money, you must repay it; if you receive kindness, you should know how to be grateful. Life is a series of choices between birth and death, and therefore people should rightfully take responsibility for their choices.

In that sense, we still had an unsettled amount to collect.

-Splat!

While searching for survivors among the withered plants and dead monster remains, Lucia appeared from somewhere and threw something terrible in front of us.

It was a person.

“Uh, sh— What is this?”

“Wow… Who is this person?”

“This is the old man who attacked you all.”

The old man’s appearance was so grotesque it was hard to describe. I could accept that tree bark covered his skin, but when I last saw him, he clearly had a human form.

The old man I met again had become something beyond the category of human.

First, his lower body had merged with a tree. While the upper part of his thighs still maintained the form of a pelvis, below the knees had completely transformed into something like a tree trunk.

Whether the transformation was incomplete or because of his small build, it felt like looking at the bottom of a sapling. It even had roots.

Small leaves, broken branches, and so on. The old man appeared before us in the unmistakable form of a “tree person.” It was fortunate that I could still recognize his face. If I couldn’t, I might have shot him thinking he was a monster.

Of course, his mental state was half-crazed.

Or was he crazy from the beginning?

I stared blankly at the crazy old man struggling under Lucia’s foot.

“Ah, ah. Aah…!”

He was wailing while looking at the burning tree.

I have no experience growing plants, and even less seeing humans merged with plants, but he seemed to be in decent condition. I mean, he didn’t look like he was about to die.

I turned my head toward Lucia.

“Why is this bastard still okay?”

Lucia, who was subduing the struggling old man by stomping on him, opened her mouth.

“His recovery ability is remarkable. Despite cutting off his limbs countless times with my mace and striking his head once, he survived.”

“Without a head?”

“Yes, without a head.”

Huh. What the hell is this?

I’ve heard of monsters without heads, but never one whose shattered head grows back. Is this that Hydra thing or whatever?

“It’s Groot!”

Camilla shouted at the struggling tree-man after hearing Lucia’s explanation. It was a comment that could be ignored.

I narrowed my eyes and glared at him.

“What is he, Durahán or something?”

“Durahán is a legendary monster. Unlike vampires or werewolves, its existence has never been confirmed.”

“Perhaps some mutation occurred during the process of merging with the plant. Occasionally, there are organisms that grant massive regenerative abilities to parasites.”

“The citizens who turned into monsters and blocked us from reaching the tree seemed to regenerate like this too… though I’m not certain.”

The gathered companions exchanged opinions with each other.

Francesca presented a hypothesis based on similar cases, and Camilla supported that hypothesis based on what she had seen.

“But why did you keep him alive?”

That’s when I looked at Lucia with a puzzled expression.

“If you had used divine power on him, you could have killed him. You could have killed him, so why did you keep him alive?”

When he appeared, Camilla felt extreme nausea. Because some kind of negative energy—black magic or a demon—was connected to him.

And a cleric’s divine power has the ability to purify evil and corrupt energy. Regardless of religion, that’s why demons or black magicians all meet their end if they mess with a cleric.

But Lucia didn’t kill him.

If he survived even after having his head smashed with a mace, she could have split his head open and forcibly purified him.

Why did she do that?

When asked for the reason, she blinked her deer-like blue eyes repeatedly.

“Why should I kill him?”

“What? You said you were going to kill him at first, didn’t you?”

“Did I say that?”

“Yes.”

“When did I do that? I have no recollection.”

“…?”

For a moment I thought I had misheard, so I turned to look at Camilla and Francesca, but they were also just blinking their eyes with disbelieving expressions.

“Grr, what are you saying… You said it yourself. You said shut up and die, take my mace.”

I recited exactly what she had said as I recalled it, but Lucia’s expression remained unchanged. She still looked as if she didn’t understand what I was saying.

“How does that translate to saying I’ll kill him? I don’t understand.”

“Then why did you say such things…?”

“Words spoken in anger. I’m human too. Don’t I sometimes feel wronged and filled with rage? Besides, just because someone tells you to go die, you don’t actually go and die.”

This was the excuse from someone who had brandished a mace and told him to prepare to die.

The excuses didn’t stop.

Lucia lowered her voice with a deliberately stern expression. Like a moral education teacher reprimanding an inadequate student.

“Also, how could a person easily harm another person? Even if they are evil, taking a life must be done with a distinction between public and private matters.”

This was the excuse from a cleric who had cut off limbs with her mace and even cracked his head. What a convincing statement.

If a judge had heard this, wouldn’t they have immediately thrown her in prison?

“……”

“……”

“……”

Everyone seemed to have the same thought. A chilly silence descended on the street. No one dared to speak.

Lucia examined our complexions with an innocent expression. Tilting her head as if puzzled.

“Why are you all looking at me like that?”

“…No reason.”

Just thinking that the church must be properly ruined.

Still, it’s fortunate. Everyone was safe. Moreover, thinking about it carefully, not killing the old man was beneficial for us too.

We have things to collect.

“Well, it’s all over now.”

“Fortunately, we stopped it before the entire region fell into chaos like in the North.”

We’ve dealt with the tree. All that remains is the settlement.

If you play with people’s lives and cause chaos across the continent, you shouldn’t expect to die peacefully. We surrounded the old man with the mindset of loan sharks beating up a debtor who ran off without paying.

That’s when it happened.

“Heh-“

He suddenly started laughing. Either he hadn’t grasped the situation or he had lost his mind.

He seems to have gone completely senile.

“You’re laughing? You find this funny right now?”

I said, slapping the senile old man’s cheek.

“Hey, grandpa. You’d better come to your senses. We still have things to settle, don’t we?”

Where did that tree come from, and what was he planning to do with it?

Why did he take Lucia’s blood, and what was his intention in stealing the cedar coffin?

The organizational structure of Al-Qair and other details.

There’s a mountain of things to find out from them. We also need to verify the suspicion of a connection with Al-Yabd.

“Hehe, heh, heh…”

The old man crawling on the ground raised his gaze.

Despite being thoroughly beaten with a mace, the madness in his eyes remained.

“Don’t be mistaken that it’s all over, unbelievers.”

The old man babbled with a voice filled with malice. Typical nonsense from a madman about falling into hell and whatnot followed.

Even for a madman, he had his own style. Since he was the one who had turned the entire slum upside down, it would have been reasonable to be a bit scared.

But the sight of him babbling while pinned to the ground was so pathetic.

The ramblings of the senile old man reached no one.

“The collected samples should first go to the nearest Ivory Tower…”

“If only we could access Al-Yabd’s data…”

Lucia, who had subdued the old man, was discussing the aftermath with Francesca. And Camilla, looking at the old man under foot with a pitiful expression, quietly spread her index and middle fingers.

“—Dragon Scale, Repulsion, A pair of…”

“What are you doing?”

“It’s a technique I saw on Netflix when I was on a plane, just seeing if I can use it too.”

What the hell is that, you weeb?

Ignoring Camilla who was attempting some strange technique that wouldn’t work, I kicked the babbling old man’s head.

Thwack! With a satisfying impact sound, his neck snapped around.

In the moment when Lucia and Francesca’s conversation stopped in surprise, I examined the old man’s face.

“……”

Even though he had transformed into a tree-man, bones must have remained. The part that looked like a nose was crooked.

I spat toward the old man who had finally stopped babbling.

“Alright, stop rambling, old man. You’ve lost everything.”

“…Do you think your confidence should soar to the heavens just because you’ve destroyed one divine tree?”

“What?”

“Do you truly believe there is only one divine tree in this world?”

The old man cackles. Even as he bleeds profusely from what might be teeth or tree parts breaking, his laughter shows no signs of stopping.

“Hehe, heh…! You don’t know. How long we’ve waited for this day, how long we’ve been prepared for salvation…!”

“Hey, you sh—”

Just as I was about to strike his face, thump! Someone grabbed my wrist from behind.

It was Lucia. She held my wrist and silently met my gaze. She shook her head, and I lowered my hand.

“Kuhuhuk, kugh, kuhup…!”

Finding this quite amusing, the old man laughed even harder. Like someone determined to die laughing. It was the kind of laughter only someone who had ruined their life with alcohol and tobacco for many years could produce.

After taking a sip of bottled water, I spat out the dust in my mouth and rubbed my lips.

“You have more trees? Our dear old man must really love greening projects. Please tell us where you planted them. I’ll go plant some too.”

“Kuhehehe… Do you think I would tell you?”

“Everyone says that at first, but they end up spilling it later.”

His mouth splits wide. Kik-kik, the sound of someone gasping for breath is heard.

He seemed to be mocking me, saying I would never hear it, that I would never get anything from his mouth.

“……”

I, who had been staring into the distance, stood up, crumpling the water bottle. Suddenly, as if burned, Lucia also got off the old man.

“…If you’re curious about the locations of the other divine trees, look if you want to see.”

Goosebumps rose on my forearm.

It felt like bugs were crawling all over my body.

With a whisper like that of an insect, not believable as a human voice.

The old man stroked his belly and murmured.

“As it happens, there’s one right here.”

*

Brown bark splits, and a festival of red flesh unfolds. Roots emerge with spilled intestines, and branches that push through the liver and stomach break bones and tear flesh as they sprout.

Camilla prepared magic while holding back dry heaves. But Frederick extended his arm to stop her.

“Why?!”

“Just wait and see!”

He thrust his hand into his pocket.

The tree that pierced through the abdomen is growing at a terrifying rate. It grows rapidly like a giant beanstalk from a fairy tale.

The old man, whose belly had swollen like a pregnant woman in an instant, was now hanging from the tree. Sucked into the tree up to his solar plexus, he had truly become one with the tree.

“Ah…!”

The “prophet” exclaims.

Smiling like a child in his mother’s arms, he looked down at the “unbelievers” below and murmured in a thread-like voice.

“How pitiful.”

“……”

“All things in heaven and earth praise Him. His judgment, full of power and wisdom, upon you unbelievers—”

Just as he began to call for judgment.

Suddenly, a voice was heard, and the “prophet” had to stop speaking.

“Judgment!”

A deep voice echoed from somewhere.

Not in the ears but inside the head.

“I quite like it myself! Nothing is more enjoyable than watching sinners burn in hellfire!”

It’s a man, but there’s an immediate sense that something is not right about him. Despite the voice coming from right behind, for some reason, it felt like one shouldn’t turn around.

“Lower your voice, you fool.”

A thin resonance begins to ring out next. It was a woman. One with an extraordinary aura.

“What are you so proud of when you’ve done nothing right? We’re late because of you.”

In response to the voice filled with displeasure, the deep voice awkwardly replies.

“I apologize for being late! There was a bit of a commotion on the way! Ruffians who coveted my splendid armor kept appearing… Not just in the desert, but following me into the city, begging and pleading!”

“They weren’t just coveting your armor; they were trying to kill us. And they weren’t just ruffians but ‘demon worshippers.’ After being trapped in a coffin for 800 years, have you absorbed all the stupidity that exists on this earth?”

“Anyway! I was delayed dealing with them at the entrance to the city, but now ‘Shamir’ Akande is solving the problem, so don’t worry! But why is everyone gathered here? What about the demon?”

In the cast shadow, the prophet looked up. What was blocking the bright moon halo was…

…a knight?

“Hmm? Why are there two trees… Ah, now I understand!”

Clank. After tapping his gauntlet, the knight in plate armor pointed at him who had become one with the tree.

“You must be the ‘false prophet’ of Al-Qair! That servant of ‘Greed’!”

“…What?”

“I’ve seen the saplings you planted in the desert! Thanks to you, I’ve thoroughly explored the world that has changed in 800 years, so—”

Now, it’s time to repay you.

Clank—

As the gauntlet gripping the handle moved, a massive hammer appeared, cutting through the night sky.

Eyelids close, and open again.

“I’m truly glad you like judgment.”

When the blink ended, the steel helmet was right in front of his face.

Flying through the moon halo toward the tree.

Ramiel, who had reached Al-Qair’s prophet, spoke to him in a low voice.

“You’ll be receiving plenty of it from now on.”

The light disappears. Before eyelids could close, before there was time to react.

The full moon drew a half-moon.

Tonight, the dream of a boy yearning for his mother’s embrace came true.

*

[Title: Final draft of field report on Mauritania Continental Civil War & Zamria Federation Disaster.]

From: Miss Alice, XXX Republic, Mauritania Continent – Hotel YYY 1st Floor Lobby Public Line.

To: Mr. Bob, Abas Kingdom – Avvisi 6th Floor Editorial Department.

(Photo of the eastern slum in Nabuktu City, Nabuktu Province where the tragedy occurred. Military-police barricades cutting through the slum center are visible. Wherever mourners and bereaved families visit, bouquets, candles, and photos are placed. The smile of a young girl in one photo looks particularly bright.)

It has been about a month since the tragic disaster occurred in Nabuktu Province in southern Zamria Federation.

On that day, when Al-Yabd’s religious holiday “Aramad” began, an unprecedented attack resulted in numerous deaths and injuries.

(A convoy of trucks heading somewhere. Government soldiers riding in the beds of old trucks are captured in the image. Black soldiers with strange, indescribable expressions don’t react even when they see the journalist photographing them. Beside the dirt road where technicals and trucks pass, an elderly person carrying luggage on their head is setting out on a refugee journey with children who appear to be grandchildren. Nowhere in the photo are parents visible.)

With the pain of civil war not yet faded, the citizens of the Mauritania continent were plunged into shock and grief.

The federal government’s official announcement counted “5,477 deaths” and “8,000 injuries” / The provincial government’s official announcement counted “2,189 deaths” and “6,600 injuries”.

However, ethnic minority independence movement groups claim that a significant number of casualties have been downplayed or concealed as “missing.”

(A low-resolution photo. Something terrible and unrecognizable is being burned. Judging by the outline, it appears to be a tree, but it’s impossible to determine why the branches are stained red, where the photo was taken, or who took it.)

Some point out that similar incidents to the Nabuktu Province disaster have occurred throughout the Mauritania continent, arguing that there are far more actual victims suffering from this incident and casualties that have not yet been identified.

But when asked by correspondents, “When and how many similar cases have there been?” the Papal Office and the International Al-Yabd Association stated, “This is a matter we cannot confirm.”

Governments across the Mauritania continent, including the Zamria Federation, unanimously denied the allegations, saying “similar incidents are groundless rumors.”

Meanwhile, the ‘High Priest’ issued a statement through the Al-Yabd Association, saying “I express my condolences for the sad news and pray to the Earth Mother Goddess that the injured will shake off their pain and the missing will safely return to their families.”

(Four-part photo. Each showing alchemy potion boxes being unloaded at the dock/clerics entering refugee camps/foreign press reporters crouching in surprise at an explosion with a tree burning in huge flames/World Union Peacekeeping Forces.)

Stories of heroes who saved others’ lives at the disaster site also gained attention.

Hero Camilla Rowell made headlines with a “mysteriously pale burning flame.” While a foreign press reporter was broadcasting live from the eastern slum of Nabuktu, the scene of flames striking a tree was captured and transmitted.

Watching the broadcast at the time, following the anchor’s words, just as the reporter was about to explain the situation on the ground, a massive vortex occurred, and a huge explosion erupted behind the reporter. Regarding this, the Minister of the Magic Tower Knowledge Preservation Department expressed bewilderment, saying it was “an unprecedented phenomenon and magic.”

Meanwhile, Francesca Ranieri, head of the Magic Tower delegation, said, “I empathize with (the victims and bereaved families’) pain and will continue to support the treatment of the injured,” and donated enough alchemy potions for 20,000 people to take simultaneously.

St. Lucia, who recovered from her injuries, also returned to the refugee camp, saying, “I pray for the speedy recovery of the disaster victims.” The saint, currently active in 14 refugee camps, is leading the treatment of disaster victims…

//Omitted//

(A very old Kiyen Army standard-issue rifle. The photo shows someone holding a rifle so old that one can almost smell the mold. Next to it is a scene of a man in religious attire on horseback casting a spell into the air.)

While the exact cause and perpetrators of the ‘Nabuktu Province Disaster’ have not yet been revealed, Imam Bashia Dalanab explains that the Mauritania continent and Zamria Federation are still in an unstable situation, like walking a tightrope between cliffs.

Decades of civil war and natural disasters have caused serious social and economic crises in Mauritania continental countries.

This has led to the warlordization of local military organizations, the rise of emerging religious groups, and an increase in the crime participation rate of magicians and shamans.

(CCTV footage of shamans and soldiers fighting in the street. Suddenly the screen crackles, and something unidentifiable attacks both shamans and soldiers indiscriminately. When the screen brightens again, only a blood-soaked street is captured.)

(A photo of a man claiming to be the Messiah. His appearance is ridiculous, but the smile would fade when seeing the numerous crowds following him.)

Following the ‘Nabuktu Province Disaster,’ numerous emerging religious groups advocating apocalypticism and selective salvation have begun full-scale activities, with clashes even occurring in some areas.

On the Mauritania continent, when a problem arises in one region, it almost inevitably spreads to neighboring regions. The reverse is also true. In particular, weapons and combatants from neighboring countries where coups are frequent and those destroyed by war freely cross borders.

(A chaotic layout of the Mauritania continent. If the names of the countries were hidden, it could be mistaken for an African or Middle Eastern map created by Britain and France.)

The Zamria Federation has a highly militarized, closed dictatorial state as a neighbor, and shamans who have become “mercenaries” are joining warlords.

The southern region, including Nabuktu Province, was designated as a special autonomous region and took a significant portion of mines with high-value resources, oil fields, and farmland, which created economic disparities between the south and other regions and may have indirectly influenced the current risk of armed conflict between regions.

This is because competing warlords are advancing into the resource-rich south, taking advantage of the conflict between Asen and Sanya.

As the governor and president clash over responsibility for the ‘Nabuktu Province Disaster,’ there are signs that warlord conflicts will begin before the pain of the disaster has even faded.

(Photo taken at the church’s holy site, Laterano. Cardinals and bishops with mysterious expressions, and shrewd cardinals and bishops wiping away cold sweat.)

In this situation, as St. Lucia’s claim that “there is a need to reflect on and contemplate anti-gospel history perpetrated in the name of the gospel” has been raised, ripples are spreading not only in the Papal Office but throughout the world.

Diplomatic and security experts worry that the fate of the Zamria Federation will eventually head toward civil war following the ‘Nabuktu Province Disaster,’ and some argue that it might develop into a ‘more complex civil war’ rather than a relatively simple power struggle.

End.

P.S. Please tell Steve to check this at least twice, senior. That’s the only way to make sure nothing is missed.

// RE: 2. Confirmed.

Episode 17 – The Blood-Drinking Tree – END –