The puji hung suspended by the root, its mycelial tentacles limply drooping, looking utterly resigned.
Its two little stubby legs twitched occasionally and unconsciously; otherwise there was no movement—just the air of a “naive, wild magical beast.”
On the other side, the elf old Deng still hadn’t grasped the severity of the situation and continued to struggle.
He tried again and again to condense mana in his body, but each time it began to take shape the roots coiling around him would tremble slightly and instantly scatter the power he’d painstakingly gathered.
After several failed attempts the effort only aggravated his wounds, and a thin line of blood leaked from the corner of his mouth.
“What level of control is this… who exactly are you?” Iros’s voice was full of suppressed pain.
From the darkness came the faint sound of plants being trampled, and then soft gleams appeared among the flower sea around them.
What materialized before the elf and the puji was a sort of tumbleweed—woven from various roots, vines, and branches.
Embedded in the center of this spherical body of intertwined root-and-stem was a faintly glowing structure resembling an eye.
It was not a physical body but an embodiment of an intelligence projected within this special Abyssal Chamber.
Then the voice appeared directly in both Iros’s and Lin Jun’s minds: “You burn my roots, you mess with my consciousness, and you still ask who I am?”
The voice was pleasant—like wind through leaves.
“Divine Tree?” Iros stared at the tumbleweed in disbelief. “Impossible! The Divine Tree can’t possibly possess a complete self—there’s no record of such a thing in any texts!”
The tumbleweed rolled lazily through the flowers for half a circle. “After all, until now no one has snuck in like you and played little tricks.”
Lin Jun felt the Divine Tree was easy to talk to; it was even willing to explain things to Iros.
A moment later, a tiny twig shot from Iros’s one-armed wrist, severing tendons; the staff and the Heartwood Core dropped and sank into the flowers below.
“The Heartwood Core isn’t meant to be used like this. And you…” the tumbleweed rolled slowly over to the puji. Its glowing “eye” seemed to scrutinize it for a long time, then remained silent.
Iros, unwilling to accept defeat, hissed, “If you truly are the Divine Tree, why do you stop me? You should know of the Ark Plan! Any harm I’ve caused you was accidental; everything I’ve done is only to continue that plan!”
“The Ark Plan?” The Divine Tree’s attention was indeed pulled back; it rolled in front of Iros and its light flickered slightly. “Then tell me—what exactly does your ‘Ark Plan’ look like?”
The tumbleweed-Divine Tree’s tone carried a hint of amusement, and Lin Jun immediately sensed that Iros’s scheme likely contained a fundamental flaw.
Sure enough, after Iros laid out his grand blueprint—using the Dungeon as an Ark to resist the Mist, making it a base to analyze the Mist and seek a final solution—the Divine Tree showed no trace of enthusiasm at finding a kindred spirit.
A few thin branches extended from the tumbleweed and coiled around Iros’s skull, eventually wrapping it completely.
After a while the Divine Tree seemed to understand: “Multiple Wills LV10, huh—indeed, your mind’s been polluted by information.”
“What information pollution? You’re babbling!” Iros struggled and retorted from within the bindings.
“The Ark Plan does exist, but it has nothing to do with what you described, and it failed long ago. As for you…” the Divine Tree’s voice softened with a measure of pity, “you’re just another fool who overestimated himself—trying to parse the Abyss and instead letting the corrupted data imprint your thoughts.”
“No… that’s impossible!” Iros’s voice trembled with emotion. “Are you saying the extinction-level threat from the Mist is false?”
“It’s not false,” the Divine Tree replied briskly, as if stating common knowledge, “but there’s no point worrying about it! After all… it’s already hopeless.”
???
“What do you mean ‘hopeless’?” Lin Jun couldn’t help himself—he’d only been here a little over three years; how could the world already be doomed?
“Your voice is annoying,” the Divine Tree said, clearly displeased.
Damn it!
If Lin Jun weren’t facing an LV99 powerhouse, he would’ve exploded at it right then.
“Hopeless means hopeless. Using the Dungeon, performing sacrifices, slaughtering—none of it matters. All those efforts only make everyone struggle uglily for a while longer. Better to sleep soundly.” The Divine Tree’s branch gently stroked the puji’s pale cap.
Just as Lin Jun thought he might also be wrapped up and considered whether to self-destruct, the branches withdrew and left only, “You’re the same.”
What do you mean I’m the same?
The roots binding them suddenly relaxed and the puji plopped onto the soft grass with a “pud-pud” sound.
On the other side, Iros knelt there as if in a daze, unable to accept the truth he’d just heard.
He suddenly lunged forward, snatched up the Heartwood Core from the ground, and shouted at the tumbleweed, “You’re lying! You’re not the Divine Tree! You just want me to abandon the Ark Plan!”
At that moment Iros didn’t hesitate—he activated the artifact and poured a large amount of life energy into it.
But unlike when the Elf King used it, this energy concentrated at the staff tip and became a dangerously destructive force.
Attack the Divine Tree’s body with the Heartwood Core? Lin Jun watched Iros as if he’d gone mad.
Sure enough, the artifact fell silent the next moment.
“You wouldn’t believe otherwise,” the Divine Tree said calmly, “because those wrong informations became truth to you.”
Branches wrapped around Iros’s ankles and began to creep upward—not merely to bind.
The encircled flesh started to lignify at a visible speed; skin took on the texture of bark.
In the final moments before fully becoming wood, the elf—aging rapidly from surrendering life energy—cried in tears for an answer: “Tell me… please tell me… you just want to stop me! All those sacrifices… it can’t be for nothing…”
But the Divine Tree gave him no final comfort. It watched quietly as he turned completely into a small tree.
Only the puji and the tumbleweed remained in the space.
Lin Jun looked at the wooden figure that had been Iros, then at the tumbleweed, and asked proactively, “Are you going to do me in too?”
“Cutting off one or two of your tentacles—what meaning would that have?” the Divine Tree replied.
A cannon-fodder puji lifted the voice-puji aside, rubbing its tentacle as it shuffled closer. “Divine Tree overlord, you… do you know something?”