Chapter 254: Tracing the Roots
"Gewen...?"
Moira paused briefly upon hearing the voice, but didn't seem surprised. She opened the door with a calm motion, revealing three figures waiting outside: Gewen, Sieg, and Noelle.
"Oh? Greetings."
Upon seeing Wang Yu and Avia behind Moira, Gewen's expression lit up with a warm smile.
"Hello,"
The pair replied courteously.
"These are my new apprentices," Moira said without ceremony. "You already know them, so there's no need for introductions. If you're here to ask something of me, speak plainly. I'm busy with my own affairs. If your request is too troublesome, I may decline."
Moira clearly didn't intend to give the elven elder any special courtesy.
"Moira," Gewen began, "there's serious trouble in the Forest of Origin. This may concern the Tree of Life itself—perhaps even all of Liaheim. It's important. And no one else in Liaheim is as much a master of herbalism and magical beast lore as you are. Will you help me?"
Despite her bluntness, Gewen showed no anger. His composed tone was earnest.
"The Tree of Life? Liaheim?" Moira raised an eyebrow, her tone nonchalant. "You forget—I'm not an elf. What does this have to do with me? I was never truly considered one of you."
"If you're still dwelling on that matter," Gewen said with a rueful smile, "then allow me to apologize again. I truly couldn't break the rules—not even for you. But it was never our intention to treat you as an outsider."
"How noble of you," Moira said dryly. "Then I suppose I, too, will find it difficult to break my own rules. Forgive me if I decline. I'm old, and time and energy are limited—I can't squander them on other people's troubles."
She waved a hand dismissively.
Wang Yu and Avia exchanged glances. Sieg had mentioned there was history between Gewen and Moira—but her current demeanor, bordering on sulking obstinance, left them wondering just what exactly had passed between the two.
"Still," Gewen continued, unwavering, "I apologize again for what happened. But please—tell me, what would it take for you to help us investigate the anomaly in the Forest of Origin? If it's within my power, I won't refuse."
Moira gave a faint hum and finally offered her terms. "What if I said I wished to access the Heartpool of the Tree of Life again? Not for anyone else this time—but rather a work of my own."
"The Heartpool...?"
Gewen frowned deeply, clearly torn. He seemed prepared to agree despite his hesitation.
But before he could speak, a fit of hoarse coughing and dry heaving echoed from within the room, cutting him off.
Moira's face shifted at once. Ignoring Gewen entirely, she rushed to Sif's bedside. The young elf no longer looked vacant, but was now wracked with violent spasms.
"How are you feeling, Sif?" Moira asked gently, pulling a small pink salve from a jar on the nearby table and applying it to the young woman's slender neck. "Any sensation of hollowness, pain in the throat?"
As the medicine sank into Sif's skin, the coughing eased. Moira's tone was soft and surprisingly tender for someone usually so bristly.
"Aunt Moira...?" Sif blinked, eyes puffy from coughing and tears. "Did you see my sister? She stayed behind to protect me... She was taken by that berserk war-tree..."
Moira froze. "Syssa, she..."
Moira's silence spoke louder than words.
"..."
Sif too fell silent. She didn't cry aloud. The long-lived elves tended toward stoicism, and those chosen to be rangers were rarely unprepared for sacrifice.
Still, two silent tears slid down Sif's cheeks and soaked into the blanket covering her torn clothes. She had been trained for loss and had long accepted the risks—but grief carved its own path through the soul, no matter how hardened.
"Thank you for saving me, Aunt Moira," Sif murmured. "I must've been affected by something—I felt dazed ever since Syssa... was killed.
"It might be another mutation—perhaps it's why the war-tree could no longer be calmed by the branches of the Tree of Life. I need to report this to the rangers and the elven guard."
Sif wiped her face and sat up, intent on leaving.
"I must tell them what happened. What happened to my sister cannot be allowed to repeat itself."
"Hold on," Moira said, pressing a hand gently but firmly against Sif's shoulder. "You're not yet fit to travel. And besides—you're mistaken. I didn't save you. He did."
She pointed to Wang Yu, who stood nearby.
Sif turned, her gaze serious. "Sir, thank you for saving my life. I will repay you in time. Aunt Moira—I know you're worried, but I must deliver this message."
She placed her hand gently over Moira's aged one. She could have pushed past her if she wanted, but she didn't.
"I'm not stopping you from sharing it," Moira replied. "There's simply no need for you to go anywhere. Speak your message here—it will be passed along."
"Huh?" Sif blinked. "You mean..."
"Speak to me, Sif," Gewen's voice broke in gently. "Madam Moira's right. I'll make sure your words reach the right ears."
"Elder Gewen?" Sif's eyes widened in surprise. Until now, her attention had been focused solely on Moira and Wang Yu—she hadn't noticed him.
"There's something I need to ask of Madam Moira. It's related to the Forest of Origin's anomalous behavior. Tell me everything you know."
Before Sif could respond, Moira cut in. "Alright, Gewen. I'll help you." She handed Sif a small vial of blue potion. "Once I finish examining Sif's condition, I'll head to the Forest of Origin with my apprentices. If you want to come, I won't stop you. You'll have my answer soon enough."
Turning to Wang Yu and Avia, she added, "You two are coming with me. From your description, the elven guards have already handled the danger, so it should be safe. Treat this as a replacement for your magic flora assignment."
Then she asked, "By the way, have you figured out anything about that... thing Sif coughed up?"
"Give us a moment," Wang Yu replied. "Avia's working on it. She's already noticed something odd in its structure—it won't be long before she has results."
Avia stood nearby, a glowing ring of magical light spinning over her right eye as she analyzed the fleshy root sample Wang Yu had caught.
"Excellent. As expected of the apprentices I've chosen," Moira said, giving them a rare thumbs-up—a gesture she had learned during their time together. Then she turned back to Sif. "Your condition looks stable. If you wish to leave now, you may."
"Thank you, Moira," Gewen said sincerely. There was a flicker of conflicted emotion in his gaze. He hadn't expected her to agree so readily.
"Don't thank me on Liaheim's behalf," she replied coolly. "I simply came to my senses. Letting someone die just to spite you over an old grudge... that would be so foolish I almost want to laugh at myself."
Moira dismissed his gratitude with a wave of her hand.
"Aunt Moira," Sif said quietly, "let me go with you. I was there when the forest changed. I may be of help."
"Of course," Moira replied, offering her a soft smile. "I'm glad you've recovered so quickly. You're still the same little Sif I used to know."
Moira nodded and accepted Sif's request. At the same time, she cast a sidelong glance at Gewen as an unreadable glint flickered in her eyes.
"Since we're all here, let's depart right away. I may have agreed to your request, but I won't have my time squandered. Let's not idle here in pointless chatter. Come—Sif, Wang Yu, Avia."
She clapped her hands, then slung a small satchel off a nearby cabinet and onto her arm. Without hesitation, she turned toward the door. As her words had made clear, she had no intention of wasting even a moment.
Gewen stepped aside with a wry smile, allowing Moira to pass. He followed without protest—how could he not? The state of the Forest of Origin was far too important to ignore. After all, the roots beneath that forest were those of the Tree of Life itself.
As Wang Yu walked past Sieg, their eyes briefly met. A silent message passed between them, mouthed with precision: "Even now, Gewen remains what he's always been—bound by rules, clinging to order far too tightly."
Wang Yu nodded slightly. Too rigid, perhaps. A lack of adaptability could indeed lead to disastrous conflict...
A light touch on his shoulder pulled him from his thoughts—it was Sif, the elven ranger they had saved. She stepped close, offering a slip of paper with her address written on it.
"Sir, may I ask your name? I owe you my life, and that is a debt I must repay. If you're ever in need of assistance here in Liaheim, please come find me. This is where I live."
"Wang Yu," he answered without hesitation. "I live in the foreigners' quarters of Liaheim."
He accepted the piece of paper from her hand.
"I'll remember that," Sif said, bowing her head in gratitude.
Their conversation ended as the group stepped out of Moira's modest dwelling. She was already astride Gewen's mount, the great eagle Angola. Looking back over her shoulder, she waited for the others to catch up.
"Move quickly. Neither my time—nor the Forest of Origin's—is something we can afford to waste."
Moira waved them forward impatiently.
The group quickened their pace, clambering onto Angola's broad back. With a mighty beat of her wings, the great eagle rose into the sky, bearing them swiftly toward the ancient forest.
On Angora's back, high in flight, Avia studied the strange bit of flesh Siv had expelled earlier. It looked like a piece of meat—but closer inspection revealed the truth.
"This thing," she said, pinching it carefully between her fingers, "is plant matter at its core. The flesh clinging to it isn't its own—it's hers."
She gave it a small tug. With a soft rip, a bloody shred of tissue came away, revealing what lay beneath: a pale tangle of roots, small and fibrous. Like a severed plant with its upper stalk removed, only the buried roots were left behind.
"It likely entered her body when the war-tree's vines coiled around her. It forced itself into her throat, using her flesh as soil, wrapping itself in her muscle and blood until it formed that little clump of meat we saw.
"And though its small, the root secretes a potent narcotic and hallucinogen. That's part of why she remained so dazed. But there's another reason—I'll show you."
Holding the root cluster in her left hand, Avia summoned mana in her right. A spell bloomed at her fingertips: the second-tier Soulshock, which produced a simple psychic disruption.
A wave of invisible force swept over the root. At once, it began to twitch violently. It gave off a hissing rustle as it shook and vibrated at an unnaturally fast rate.
Moira's emberroot hadn't interacted with it earlier—it had been protected by an outer layer of flesh. But now, with its cover peeled away, it was completely exposed.
After a final shudder, the root ceased its trembling and coiled in upon itself. Within moments, it dried and yellowed, crumbling in Avia's palm like a withered tumbleweed.
"It may not project mental effects, but it reacts sharply to psychic force. That alone tells us plenty."
She looked seriously around at the others, her voice steady and certain.
"And as for that sprout growing on the surface, I believe it was beginning to evolve—transitioning to its next form after absorbing sufficient nutrients. Fortunately, Madam Moira interrupted the process."
She concluded her analysis with calm finality.
"I understand," Moira said. "An outstanding breakdown. Remarkable work. With this and what we saw in the forest, I may be able to draw some conclusions. Angola, take us down. Wang Yu—help me uncover the ground. I want to see the Forest of Origin's root network with my own eyes."
Moira gave Avia high praise without reservation. She tapped Angola's head. The giant eagle obeyed without hesitation, descending toward the spot where the war-tree had rampaged and Sif's sister had died.
Angola responded surprisingly obediently to Moira's commands. With a sweep of its wings, it lowered them all to the forest floor.
The full force of the Chariot surged through Wang Yu. At his command, the earth yielded—sinking and parting like water as he shaped it, digging deeper and deeper with the strength of his will.
Before long, a wide pit had formed, growing deeper with every passing moment. Sweat beaded on Wang Yu's brow, his power taxed to its limits.
But at last, tangled roots began to emerge—thick mats of intertwined plantlife, the underground root network of the Forest of Origin, connected to the Tree of Life itself.
With Siv's help, Moira climbed down into the exposed roots. She moved deftly among them, her hands tracing the lines of growth. After a short search, her fingers paused on one particular root, which was subtly wrong in shape and feel.
She drew a syringe from her satchel and plunged it in. At once, the root thrashed wildly, writhing against the unmoving ones around it. They scraped together with a shrill, grating noise.
"Just as I thought," Moira murmured, her eyes flashing. "Some of these so-called roots of the Tree of Life... are fake."
Her tone grew heavy, her gaze fixed on the thing writhing before her, its true nature having been revealed by her alchemical probe.