"So, how exactly are we supposed to kill that? I mean, it's a tree…" Kiaran says, his tone full of skepticism.
The team's gaze shifts to the strange tree in question. It stands about 15 meters tall, noticeably smaller than the towering, 50-meter giants surrounding it. Its bark is a peculiar ashen gray, with faint, golden essence pulsing rhythmically through its sprawling roots, as though the tree itself is alive and breathing.
Unlike the other trees, this one bears fruit — but not just any fruit. The fruits hang at varying heights, each adorned with unsettlingly human-like faces.
At the lowest branches, a fruit has a very sad look. The mouth is slightly open, quivering as if caught in a silent sob, and its expression is one of unbearable sorrow.
Actual tears stream from the carved eyes, falling in slow, deliberate drops and landing with a faint splatter against the dark ground below.
Further up, one looks embarrassed, its cheeks puffed and eyes cast downward.
At the very top, a larger fruit bears a grotesque, demonic face with sharp teeth and glowing eyes, as if daring the team to come closer.
"Good question," Robert says, his voice calm but thoughtful. "Any ideas?"
The group exchanges uncertain glances.
"Not really," Nico says.
"But honestly, it can't be that strong, right? I mean, look at it. Sure, the fruits are… creepy, but the monster's hiding skills are terrible. It's practically screaming, Hey, I'm the bad guy!"
He and Kiaran laugh, trying to lighten the mood.
"Yeah, it's like it took one look at camouflage and said: Nah, not for me."
Kiaran gestures exaggeratedly at the glowing roots and the out-of-place fruit.
The team chuckles, but Seren's eyes remain fixed on the tree, her expression hard.
"I wouldn't underestimate it," she says, her tone cutting through the levity.
"It's connected to the Rift, and the essence flowing through those roots means it's more than just a decorative piece. If it's the Guardian, it's bound to put up a fight."
"Okay, okay," Nico says, raising his hands in mock surrender.
"so, what do we do? Chop it down? Blow it up? Burn it down?"
"That's a terrible idea," Seren starts, the joke flying over her head.
"We don't have anything capable of producing flames strong enough to—"
Her words trail off as her gaze sharpens, a realization dawning on her. Her Stigma. It punishes those she deems deserving, the form of punishment varying but always relentless.
And this… this tree, connected to a Rift, is clearly an abomination. Her thoughts drift to Ravyn, the punishment she swore to deliver to him someday: death by the holy light of Aureth.
Aureth. The self-proclaimed Sun God she encountered during her Awakening. His power is light, but not just any light — flames. Sunlight, capable of burning away corruption.
"I didn't mean it seriously, Seren," Kiaran laughs, scratching the back of his neck.
"I mean, you do know what a joke is, right?"
"No, wait," Seren interrupts, her voice firm.
"Your idea isn't bad. In fact, it might be exactly what we need. I think… I think I can produce fire strong enough to burn it."
"You're serious?" Robert asks, his tone cautious.
Seren nods, stepping forward. "Everyone, stand back. I need space."
The team obeys, retreating to give her room. Seren clasps her hands together, her fingers interlocking as if in prayer.
She closes her eyes, drawing on her Stigma, the weight of its power pressing heavily on her. When she speaks, her voice resonates with an otherworldly authority.
"Elyon, I call upon your judgment!"
Her words seem to echo, carrying a weight that doesn't belong to her alone. She raises both arms, pointing them toward the unnatural tree. Her body trembles as a familiar, uncomfortable sensation floods her mind.
Memories surface, unbidden and sharp. She recalls the voices she heard during her battle with Lumen, their words jarring and alien. The same voices return now, their discordant tones reverberating in her skull.
'W-weee… d-deemand… d-death by the Holy Light of Aureth!'
Her head throbs, her thoughts a chaotic swirl. The voices feel oppressive, as though they're clawing at her very being. Yet amidst the turmoil, clarity pierces through.
'Just as I thought,' she muses, her mind steadying.
'Anything I and Aureth deem evil must be cleansed by his holy light… or flames.'
The golden glow of her Stigma intensifies, light pooling in her palms. Her arms feel heavy, not from the power but from the memories tied to it.
The judgment of her Stigma is absolute, and it recognizes the tree as a target.
Flames erupt from her hands, not wild or chaotic but controlled and purposeful. The golden fire surges forward, illuminating the dark forest.
The inferno engulfs the tree, climbing its ashen trunk in spiraling waves. The roots writhe like serpents, twisting and coiling as if trying to escape the scorching judgment.
The faces etched into the fruits tremble violently, tears dripping faster from the crying one, while the demon-faced fruit at the top smirks defiantly, its malevolent grin unyielding even in the fire.
The surrounding trees catch alight as well, their leaves disintegrating in an instant. The fire spreads outward, roaring like a living beast.
Vaporized moisture hisses through the air, and the forest is momentarily consumed in a golden blaze. Despite the destruction, Seren's target remains standing, defiant against the holy light.
As the flames around it begin to subside, the tree reveals its unburned form. Its bark darkens, and a face begins to take shape in the trunk, grotesque and unnatural. It smirks with a wry, mocking expression, as though ridiculing Seren's efforts.
The lowest branch, bearing the trembling fruit with the crying face, suddenly moves. The fruit dangles precariously, its carved face streaming tears even faster now. The branch bends unnaturally, stretching toward the grotesque mouth that has formed in the trunk.
The tree seems to mock Seren further, taking its time. Inch by inch, the fruit is drawn closer, the grotesque face in the tree's wood widening its maw, revealing jagged, wooden teeth.
The fruit disappears into the tree's mouth with a wet, echoing splash. The trunk groans as it closes its jaws, leaving an eerie silence in its wake.
The team stares in stunned disbelief.