strictlysupreme Chapter 24 Elder of the Ancient Tree
Chapter 24 Elder of the Ancient Tree
Karen's thoughts were like a pebble thrown into an ancient well, creating a faint ripple in the thick, sorrowful sea of consciousness.
The ancient tree's massive trunk trembled slightly, and the black liquid seeping from the cracks in its bark accelerated, dripping onto the crystal fragments on the ground with a hissing, corrosive sound. The roots that entwined the mineral veins slowly wriggled, like a sleeping giant python being disturbed, and the black crystals on their surfaces refracted a dark red light with each movement.
"...Treatment? Pollution?"
The ancient tree's thoughts were slow and deep, each word seemingly squeezed out with difficulty from the deepest depths of the earth, carrying the weariness and doubt accumulated over millions of years. Its root system, almost entirely covered by black crystals, tightened slightly, and Karen felt a subtle tremor beneath her feet.
"Humans... always say nice things... and then take everything away..."
At the crack in the tree trunk, a piece of charred bark peeled away, revealing rotting tissue beneath, oozing black pus. Within the festering wound, tiny, black crystal-like growths could be vaguely seen, resembling some kind of malignant tumor.
"Three hundred years ago... a group of humans in robes... said they could help us 'optimize' the spiritual veins... they took away three 'Resonance Crystal Cores'... and then the flow of spiritual energy in the veins became unstable..."
"Two hundred years ago... another group of humans... claimed to be 'studying ecology'... they cut down seventeen of my descendants... dug up the roots to make specimens... and then the plants in that area never bloomed again..."
The ancient tree's spirit is filled with the pain accumulated over time. It holds too many unpleasant memories of humanity. Plunder, deception, destruction—these concepts have been repeated endlessly throughout its long life, etched into its consciousness like tree rings.
Karen stood still, his hands still raised. He offered no explanation, no promises, but simply listened quietly. Through the connection of the spirit runes, he could feel the heavy, almost soul-crushing pain in the ancient tree's will. It was not merely the pain of physical erosion, but the despair of watching helplessly as the forest and mineral veins he had protected for countless years died.
Xiguang stood at his feet, the cub raising its head, its amber eyes gazing at the ancient tree. It seemed to sense the sorrow as well, letting out a soft, mournful whimper. Then, it did something unexpected.
The cub took its still slightly limping steps and cautiously approached the ancient tree. It walked slowly, each step firm, its golden fur shimmering softly in the darkness. When it reached about three meters from the tree's roots—where the ground was covered with a layer of black, crystalline slime—it stopped, then slowly lay down, bringing its front paws together and gently resting its head on them.
This is a gesture of submission. In the culture of the Lightwing Lions, this gesture is used by cubs to show respect and trust to elders, and by the weak to show respect to the strong.
The dawn conveys a simple and pure idea:
I'm in pain. You're in pain too. We're in the same boat.
The trembling of the ancient tree stopped.
The slowly wriggling roots came to a standstill. The flow of the black liquid flowing from the cracks in the trunk slowed. On the huge, half-withered canopy, the few remaining scorched yellow leaves rustled softly without any wind.
A long silence.
In this silence, Karen could feel the ancient tree's "gaze"—not vision, but some more ancient way of perception—moving back and forth over them: from the warm and pure light energy on Dawn's body, to the complex and mysterious silver spirit runes on Karen's wrist, and then to Leah and Shadow, who remained vigilant but did not attack.
Finally, the ancient tree's thoughts resonated once more, this time with less doubt and more... curiosity?
"...The young Son of the Sun...and the Resonator of Ancient Blood...and...the Shadow's Companion? A strange combination..."
It clearly recognized the race of the Dawn (Children of the Sun is an ancient term of respect for the Winged Lion of Light), sensed the special nature of Karen's spirit markings, and even made some guesses about the Shadow's identity. Karen noticed that when the Ancient Tree mentioned "Shadow's Kin," the Shadow's deep black ears twitched almost imperceptibly, but it did not respond.
"You...are you really different?"
In the ancient tree's mind, pain still dominated, but a crack appeared, revealing a sliver of hope so faint it was almost nonexistent. Like someone who had walked alone in darkness for too long, suddenly seeing a blurry light in the distance; though they couldn't believe it, they couldn't help but want to get closer to see.
Karen took a deep breath and lowered her arms. She didn't speak, but answered with her actions.
He walked to Xiguang's side, sat down in front of the ancient tree roots, and then stretched out his right hand, gently pressing it on the ground—on the edge of the black crystals and slime. The silver spirit runes on his wrist glowed faintly, not as an attack, not as a defense, but as "resonance."
He fully opened up his consciousness through the spirit runes and the connection with the Dawn.
It's not about passively receiving the ancient tree's pain, but about sharing it bidirectionally and equally.
He shared fragments of his memories: the lonely scribe in the archives of Dustlight Town, the pulseless one with empty wrists, the notes and pendant left by his father. He shared the shock and pity upon discovering Dawnlight, the tension and determination while hiding the cubs. He shared the excruciating pain and confusion upon awakening his spirit runes, the despair and relief while escaping by jumping off a cliff. He shared the empathy he felt when understanding the pain of the jellyfish and tentacles in the storm, and the fear and determination he felt when deciding to delve into the source of the pollution.
These memories are jumbled and fragmented, filled with human vulnerability and imperfection. But they are real, unmasked, and unembellished.
The ancient tree's consciousness surged violently. It "saw" Karen's loneliness as a pulseless being rejected, a feeling that resonated with its own loneliness as an ancient guardian constantly plundered by humans. It "felt" the courage Karen displayed in protecting the Dawn, reminding it of its own past, when it too had stood up against invaders to protect the forest. It "understood" Karen's determination to heal the pollution—not for profit, not for conquest, but the simplest desire to "not see life suffer."
"……I see……"
The ancient tree's will softened, like a melting glacier; though still cold, it had at least begun to flow.
"Your heart... is pure... unlike those humans in black robes... whose hearts... have been burned by pale flames, leaving only greed..."
Black robes? Pale white flames?
Karen's heart skipped a beat. He remembered the cult's "mark" deep within the energy core of the pollution source. Sure enough, the cult was connected to the pollution here.
The ancient tree seemed to sense his thoughts. Its massive trunk slowly turned to one side, revealing its back—where a shocking wound lay. It wasn't natural decay, nor was it the erosion of black crystals; rather, it was a neat, continuous crack, its edges charred and carbonized, as if instantly scorched by an extremely high-temperature flame. Deep within the wound, the growth of black crystals was particularly dense, as if the wound had opened a convenient door for contamination.
"Three months ago... a black star... fell from the sky... and pierced the core of the mine..."
The ancient tree's consciousness began to reveal fragments of memory.
It wasn't a verbal description, but a direct, immersive "vision" projected into the consciousness of Karen, Dawn, and even later, Leah and Shadow, through a psionic connection.
---
Three months ago, the night sky over the Emerald Forest.
The ancient tree, connected to the mineral veins through its roots, sensed the pulse of spiritual energy deep within the earth, and through the resonance between its canopy and the forest, listened to the whispers of the night wind. It was a peaceful night; the mist flowed as usual, and the stars twinkled hazily behind the fog.
Then, a dark red trail tore through the sky.
That wasn't a shooting star—shooting stars burn brightly. This trajectory was pure darkness, with a dark red halo flowing along its edges, like blood seeping from a wound. It was silent, yet carried a suffocating sense of oppression, plummeting straight into the depths of the Emerald Forest.
The ancient tree sensed the spiritual energy of the mineral vein beginning to become disordered. Like a boulder thrown into a calm lake, ripples spread wildly. The spirits of the forest awoke from their slumber, letting out terrified cries. The wind grew violent, and the mist was stirred up.
The black trail struck the valley where the ore vein was located.
There was no explosion, no flash of light, only a muffled groan, like one coming from the depths of the earth. Black smoke rose from the point of impact, mixed with shattered crystal powder, forming a slowly spreading cloud.
The ancient tree attempted to probe through its root system. Its roots extended towards the point of impact, but the instant they made contact, a cold, viscous, and malevolent energy surged back up the roots! It was a feeling never before experienced—not death, not decay, but some more terrifying "erosion" that sought to transform everything from order into chaos.
It immediately severed the connection of that part of the root, but it was too late. The black energy, like a plague, spread rapidly along the psychic network of the mine. The crystal began to change color, from pure rainbow to a murky black. The corroded crystal released even more black energy, infecting everything around it.
Three days later, the first infected organisms appeared: the vines became frenzied, and black patterns appeared on their surface; the insects' exoskeletons crystallized, and their behavior became uncontrollable; even the microbial community in the soil began to secrete black, corrosive mucus.
A month later, the pollution spread to the edge of the valley. The ancient tree's own root system began to be eroded. It tried to resist with its own life energy, but the black energy had a terrible assimilative ability, polluting and transforming its pure energy into nutrients to strengthen itself.
It was retreating step by step. Its roots were blackened inch by inch, its trunks developed rotting wounds, and its branches and leaves withered. The forest was weeping, the mineral vein was wailing, and it could only watch helplessly, using its last strength to maintain the relative cleanliness of a small area—the edge of the hall where they were now standing.
---
The memory segment has ended.
Karen opened his eyes, feeling utterly exhausted. The memory of sharing the ancient tree had been incredibly draining; the pain of being eroded, the despair of helplessness, and the grief of watching his home perish were all vividly imprinted on his consciousness. Cold sweat beaded on his forehead as Xiguang brushed against him, its warm fur rubbing against his arm.
Leah's face paled slightly, clearly indicating that she had also received some of the memories. Shadow, meanwhile, crouched quietly to the side, silver specks of light slowly rotating in his deep black eyes, as if analyzing something.
"That black 'star'..." Karen asked hoarsely, "What is it? Where is it now?"
"Deepest in the vein..." The ancient tree's will grew weaker, clearly showing its memories had exhausted its already dwindling strength. "The impact point formed a cave... the black stone is there... it didn't break... it's... growing..."
Growth? The meteorite is growing on its own?
"And... there are living creatures guarding it..." The ancient tree's thoughts revealed a clear sense of fear. "It's not a spirit creature originally from the mine... nor is it a creature from the forest... it came with the black stone... it's very dangerous..."
It paused, as if hesitating, but finally spoke:
"I once sent out a root to explore... near the cave... my root was... eaten... not bitten off... dissolved, assimilated... becoming part of the black crystal... that guardian... it craved all ordered psionic energy... wanted to turn everything into its own form..."
Karen felt a chill run down her spine. A guardian of life? A creature that can dissolve and assimilate other life forms?
"We must go down." He looked at Leah and Shadow, his eyes resolute. "Find that meteorite and deal with it. Otherwise, the entire Emerald Forest will be doomed."
Leah nodded, gripping her dagger tightly. Shadow didn't say anything, but its tail swayed slightly, indicating it understood.
The ancient tree remained silent for a long time. Finally, its massive, half-withered crown slowly tilted, and a relatively intact branch drooped down, its tip bearing a scorched but still whole leaf. The leaf detached from the branch and drifted down, landing in Karen's hand.
Those are no ordinary leaves. They feel warm and smooth to the touch, like jade, with natural, luminous veins on the surface, radiating a faint but pure life energy.
"Jade Leaf Talisman..." The ancient tree's will sounded like a final sigh, "With it... the plant spirits of the forest will consider you a friend... If necessary... you can summon them to assist you... but you can only use it once... My power... is only enough to sustain one summoning..."
Karen carefully tucked the leaf away, feeling as if it were a small, warm piece of charcoal pressed against her heart.
"Thank you," he said sincerely.
The ancient tree did not respond further. Its will began to dissipate, as if it had completed its final task and could finally allow itself to sink into deeper weariness and pain. The cracks in the trunk widened, and the black liquid flowed faster. Two more of the remaining leaves fell.
Karen stood up, took one last look at the ancient guardian that was dying, then turned and walked toward the depths of the hall—where there was a tunnel entrance that sloped downwards and was completely covered by black crystals.
The vein has a fissure, and its depth is unfathomable.
The shadowy figure stepped to the front, its silver eyes illuminating the darkness just meters ahead of the tunnel.
"Let's go," the black cat's voice echoed in my mind. "The road ahead... is even more difficult."