God’s Tree

The air was heavy.

The moment Argolaith saw the massive Hollowed force ahead, he knew—this was no random gathering.

This was organized.

And that meant one thing.

Something was leading them.

From their vantage point atop a broken ridge, the land stretched downward into a vast blackened valley—a place where the very earth looked like it had rotted away.

And in the center of that valley…

Hundreds of Hollowed.

Some were humanoid, their bodies twisted beyond recognition, their limbs stretched unnaturally.

Others were larger—beast-like, moving on all fours with jagged, exposed bone plating.

A few stood twice as tall as the rest, their backs covered in dark, pulsating tendrils that slithered like living things.

Kaelred let out a long, slow breath. "That's a lot of ugly."

Malakar remained still, his violet eyes narrowing. "This is not a wandering force. They are gathered for a purpose."

Argolaith agreed. "The question is—what?"

Then he saw it.

At the center of the Hollowed horde, a massive blackened monolith stood—a towering pillar of stone, covered in glowing runes that pulsed with a sickly green light.

It was old. Very old.

And the Hollowed were surrounding it.

Kaelred frowned. "What is that?"

Malakar's gaze flickered. "A conduit."

Argolaith turned to him. "A conduit for what?"

Malakar exhaled. "For whatever commands them."

They were outnumbered.

Heavily.

Even with Malakar's magic, even with Argolaith's blade, even with Kaelred's speed and skill—they could not face an entire horde head-on.

Not yet.

Kaelred sighed. "So, do we have a plan, or are we just winging it like usual?"

Argolaith smirked. "Both."

Malakar's eyes gleamed. "We need to know what they are doing. And then—we strike."

Kaelred groaned. "Why did I even ask?"

They moved carefully.

Staying low, keeping to the jagged rock formations, avoiding the watchful eyes of the Hollowed scouts that lurked along the outer edges of the valley.

The closer they got, the more wrong the air felt.

The monolith pulsed, and with every pulse, Argolaith could feel something pulling at him.

Something familiar.

Something old.

His golden eyes narrowed.

"The tree is connected to this."

Malakar glanced at him. "How certain are you?"

Argolaith exhaled. "Completely."

Kaelred muttered. "Because of course it is."

As they drew closer, Argolaith could finally see what the Hollowed were doing.

And his blood ran cold.

At the base of the monolith, the Hollowed were not just gathered.

They were channeling something.

Dark energy—raw, twisted lifeblood—was being fed into the stone.

And at the heart of it, hanging above the monolith like a withered heart suspended in chains—

A fragment of a tree.

Not whole.

Not alive.

But still powerful.

Kaelred's voice was barely a whisper. "That's a piece of your tree, isn't it?"

Argolaith clenched his jaw. "Yes."

Malakar's voice was colder than usual. "Then they are trying to corrupt it."

Argolaith felt rage coil in his chest.

He had expected a trial. A battle. A challenge.

But this?

This was a violation.

Kaelred exhaled sharply. "So… I'm guessing we're not sneaking away, huh?"

Argolaith drew his sword.

The blade pulsed, sensing the enemy before it.

And Argolaith smirked.

"No."

He stepped forward.

"We're ending this."

The air burned with unnatural energy.

The Hollowed stood in formation, their grotesque bodies pulsating as they funneled raw, corrupted lifeblood into the towering monolith.

And at the center of it all—

A fragment of Argolaith's second tree, chained and suffering.

Argolaith's grip on his sword tightened.

"No more waiting."

Malakar smirked, his violet eyes flickering. "Finally."

Kaelred exhaled sharply. "Yeah, okay, let's die dramatically, I guess."

And then—

They attacked.

Argolaith moved first.

His sword cut through the air, unleashing a shockwave of pure force that tore through the frontline of Hollowed, sending them crashing into one another.

The effect was instant.

The moment the sword struck—

The Hollowed stopped draining the tree.

And instead—

They turned toward him.

The pulsing light of the monolith dimmed for a moment, as if it had lost connection to its energy source.

Then—

A terrible screech ripped through the valley.

The Hollowed surged forward.

Hundreds of them.

All at once.

Kaelred swore loudly. "Okay, this was a terrible idea!"

Malakar chuckled darkly. "No. This was necessary."

And then, with unnatural grace, he lifted his hand—

And the shadows obeyed.

From beneath Malakar's feet, a maelstrom of black mist erupted, curling into the form of dozens of skeletal warriors, their violet eyes flickering with the same unholy fire that burned in his own.

The Hollowed charged—

And the dead rose to meet them.

Malakar's summons clashed with the frontlines, their blades cutting into twisted flesh, their bony hands ripping apart anything in reach.

The battlefield was chaos.

Argolaith moved through it like a storm, his sword carving through the Hollowed with a precision unlike any weapon before.

Each swing—absolute.

Each strike—erasing the corruption.

The Hollowed could not reform.

Because his sword did not just wound.

It undid them.

Kaelred danced through the chaos, his daggers flashing.

Where Malakar and Argolaith tore through the Hollowed with sheer force, Kaelred struck in the places that mattered.

A tendon severed. A neck punctured.

He moved too fast to catch, too sharp to ignore.

And then—

The ground shook.

A deep, guttural sound rumbled through the battlefield.

Then—

The monolith split open.

From within the cracked stone, something crawled out.

It was taller than any Hollowed before it, its body twisted beyond recognition.

Its arms were elongated, its hands ending in jagged claws longer than swords.

But its eyes—

Its eyes burned with intelligence.

It was not mindless.

It was commanding them.

The creature stepped forward, its voice a deep, reverberating sound that made the very air hum with power.

"You should not have come."

Argolaith's blue eyes locked onto it.

His sword pulsed.

And he smirked.

"Then let's see if you can stop me."

The battle raged, but Argolaith's focus had narrowed—

Not on the horde.

Not on the fractured monolith.

But on the thing standing before him.

The Hollowed Commander.

It was unlike any Hollowed he had faced before—not just a twisted mass of corruption, not just a creature driven by hunger.

It watched him.

It studied him.

And when it spoke, its voice rumbled through the battlefield like thunder against stone.

"You wield that which should not exist."

Argolaith smirked. "So do you."

And then—

It moved.

The ground split beneath its weight as the Hollowed Commander lunged.

Faster than anything its size had any right to be.

Argolaith barely had time to react before its clawed arm came down like a falling mountain.

BOOM!

The impact sent a shockwave through the valley, tearing apart the ground where he had stood moments before.

But Argolaith was already moving—

His instincts screamed, his body responding before his mind could process the sheer power behind that strike.

He twisted, pivoting on his heel, his blade flashing upward.

Steel met corrupted flesh—

And for the first time—

The Hollowed Commander hesitated.

The moment Argolaith's blade connected, the Hollowed Commander reeled back, its entire arm convulsing.

Not just wounded.

Burned.

Not just cut.

Unmade.

Kaelred, still engaged with the horde, caught a glimpse of the battle and swore. "Okay, I think we finally found something that's actually afraid of your sword!"

Malakar watched intently, his violet flames flickering. "Then he should press the advantage."

And Argolaith did.