Foster was kneeling in the centre of the runic sphere, his body twisted by unimaginable pain. The Seed of the World Tree floated before him, surrounded by its pulsing ancestral mana, eclipsing anything he had ever felt before. Beside it, the book, an ancient grimoire of the tree's secrets, seemed to vibrate in harmony with the surrounding energy. But it was the Seed that stood out, a vortex of power that tore at his very being.
As soon as the system had initiated the assimilation process, a violent wave of pain hit him. It wasn't a simple burn, or a fracture; it was as if every atom in his body had been torn apart, destroyed, then remodelled with brutal violence. His genome was being rewritten, line by line, with surgical precision and absolute cruelty.
The Seed's mana seeped through his veins like a fiery poison. Every beat of his heart seemed to be an explosion of pure pain. His muscles twitched spasmodically, his breath ragged and desperate. He felt his skin stretch, cracking in places, as if his body were rejecting its own existence.
'Aghh-!' he cried, one hand clawing at the stone floor. Blood escaped his lips, his body unable to contain the colossal energy.
His bones cracked under the pressure, breaking and reforming almost instantly.
His skeleton lengthened slightly, his proportions becoming more harmonious, more slender, but every millimetre of growth was agony. His spine twisted abruptly, an electric shock of pain shooting up his skull
. The system, cold and implacable, seemed impervious to his screams. A neutral voice echoed in his mind:
[Assimilation process: 12%... Genome adjustment. Elimination of obsolete elven cells. Reconstruction of upper elven skeleton].
Foster almost lost his mind when the transformation reached his nervous system. It was as if every nerve had been dipped in acid and then hit with a searing hammer. Electric arcs of mana shot through his body, sending bluish flashes dancing across his skin.
His pupils dilated, then shrank violently as his vision changed. His field of perception expanded, capturing details he had never been able to see before. Every speck of dust, every fluctuation of light in the sphere, everything was now unbearably clear.
- "Make it stop... Make it stop..." he thought, unable to formulate words. But the system was not responding to his silent pleas.
When the process reached his Ki channels, Foster was hit by a wave of raw energy. His Ki, once weak and unstable, exploded like a raging torrent. His internal circuitry was reshaped, expanded and strengthened to contain this new-found power.
[He
felt his muscles tense under the effect of this new strength. His fists closed on the ground and he involuntarily pulverised it. But this power, though impressive, was an unbearable burden. Every fibre of his being seemed about to shatter under the pressure.
His heart was beating so fast that for a moment he thought it would explode. His skin, covered in sweat and blood, glowed with an unearthly light. His muscles, though strengthened, seemed to scream under the pressure of this new power.
Foster felt his mind waver. Nightmarish visions invaded his mind - fragments of memory from the Seed itself. Ancient battles, bloody sacrifices, the voices of ancient bearers of the World Tree who had failed to contain its power.
- I am going to die... I'm going to die here..." he thought, a strange smile distorting his face.
But he didn't die. Every time he reached the edge of the abyss, something - perhaps the system, perhaps the Seed itself - brought him back.But each time he returned, he was less himself. His personality was dissolving under the effect of this total transformation.
The pain was so great that he began to laugh, a hoarse, desperate laugh that echoed in the sphere. His screams, laughter and sobs formed a macabre symphony, a raw expression of his agony.
After what seemed like an eternity, the pain began to diminish. Not because it was lessening, but because his body and mind were no longer able to perceive it. He had gone beyond what any living being could bear.
[Foster slowly opened his eyes. His breathing was irregular, his hands were still shaking, but he was alive. He was no longer the same. His skin had taken on a slightly silvery hue and his hair shone with an almost supernatural lustre. His eyes, once ordinary, were now piercing, almost intimidating.
He raised a trembling hand to his chest, feeling the power emanating from him.
- System, show me my status. Foster demanded.
[Current Host Status]
[Race] : Elf of the World Tree
[Knight Rank 3]
[Adept Rank 2]
[Talents : Intermediate in Fencing, Legendary in Magic]
[Innate Talent] : Child of the World Tree, Giver of Life.
[Level 2: 5/20]
[Strength]: 62
[Endurance]: 61
[Constitution]: 64
[Perception]: 61
[Magic]: 56
[Skill: Tempestive Fulgurance, Multiple shot, Fireball]
[Quest 2. 5 :] Increase each of his stats to 20
[Reward: Devourer's Katana]
[Ding, quest number 2.5 completed]
[Obtain Devourer's Katana]
[Item Description: The Devourer's Katana is a fearsome weapon imbued with dark power. Effect 1: Each blow struck with the Devourer's Katana siphons off part of the opponent's life force, regenerating the wearer's stamina. Effect 2: When an enemy is hit by the Katana, the cursed blade triggers a bleeding effect that intensifies with each consecutive blow. Effect 3: ??????????, Effect 4: ????????]
- OH MY GOD.
Foster couldn't believe his eyes, the change in his strength had become completely absurd, even having a cheat item to top it all off.
- HAHAHA, life was getting good.
Suddenly in front of him, floating gently at eye level, an ancient book seemed to be waiting for him, surrounded by a golden halo mixed with emerald green hues. The runes engraved on its cover pulsed in sync with his own heart, as if a deep connection had formed between them.
The book was imposing, its cover made of smooth, dark bark, inlaid with golden veins that seemed to be alive. With every pulse, a powerful, ancient energy emanated from the object, filling the room with a sacred aura. The title was inscribed in a lost language, but Foster instinctively understood what it meant:
"Codex of the World Tree."
When he reached out to touch it, the book opened of its own accord. Its pages, thin as leaves, shimmered with an unearthly brilliance. Runes danced across the surface, rearranging themselves in complex patterns, then disappearing and reappearing elsewhere. He realised immediately that this artefact was not just a tool - it was an extension of himself.
Foster felt a bond forming between himself and the book. A benevolent warmth seeped into his mind, accompanied by instinctive knowledge of how to use it. The Codex amplified his spells significantly, to an almost unimaginable degree. His incantations, which had previously required gestures or words, now became almost instantaneous. He no longer needed to channel his energy as before; the book took care of that for him, making each spell fluid and powerful.
The pages of the Codex, though innumerable, seemed to react to his thoughts, opening directly onto two spells that he could now use.
The first page revealed a complex diagram illustrating enormous roots rising from the ground. Foster immediately understood the potential of this spell. By invoking the Roots of the World Tree, he could conjure up immense tendrils of living wood, as thick as trunks but as flexible as a rope.
The second page of the book showed a protective wooden cocoon encircling a humanoid figure. Foster knew that this spell was intended for ultimate defence. The World Tree Cocoon could be deployed in an instant, creating an almost impenetrable barrier around him.
Another laugh escaped his lips.
On the other side of the sphere :
The runic sphere protecting Foster vibrated intensely under the Queen's relentless assaults. Luminous cracks ran across its surface, each flash marking another step towards its collapse. On the other side, the Queen was a vision of pure fury. Her normally serene and benevolent face was distorted by icy rage. A dark, crushing aura emanated from her body, shaking the ancient walls of Fotiya.
- You won't get out of here alive, Foster," she whispered menacingly, her hands lighting up with a spell so charged with mana that it made the light around her flicker. 'If I have to burn this place to the ground to stop you, I will.'
She raised her hands above her head, summoning an immense sphere of destructive magic, swirling and unstable. The energy condensed, heating the air to unbearable temperatures.
But just then, Foster's protective sphere dissipated in a blinding flash.
Before the queen could react, Foster raised his fist. A flash of light shot from his fingers, and an invisible impact struck the queen violently. Her gigantic spell collapsed in an instant, scattered in a shower of bluish sparks.
The Queen was thrown backwards with crushing force, her body smashing into ancient pillars and crumpling under a heap of rubble. The thud of the collision resounded like a thunderclap in the room, followed by a heavy silence.
Foster stepped forward slowly, his footsteps echoing on the stone floor. He raised his head slightly, staring piercingly at the debris. A wild, unshakeable Ki surrounded his being, accentuating every movement.
He stopped in the centre of the room, standing up straight, his torso slightly forward, one hand raised and the other relaxed at his side. His posture was perfectly calculated but strangely relaxed, betraying an almost theatrical arrogance. The golden aura around him pulsed slowly, each vibration filling the space with an unbearable pressure.
- I'm not running anymore, Queen," he declared in a low but resounding voice. "You wanted me dead? Then come and get it."
A sinister smile contorted his face, and his eyes blazed with a mixture of madness and contempt. Foster was a vision of absolute domination.