A mage? A spell engineer!

Chapter 96 An Audience with the Sky-Piercing Tree

Beneath the stars and the moon, the giant trees in the heart of the forest shine even brighter than they do.

Anyone who sees Him in person will involuntarily imagine or believe that it is His outstretched branches that support this sky.

What is there to doubt? His branches are so tall, his canopy so vast, and endless blue light surges from the earth, rising and growing to the branches and treetops, finally leaving the sacred tree in the stillness of the wind, turning into shattered fireflies and merging into the forest.

The dazzling lights scattered across the sky, more magnificent than the stars.

In the realm He governs, in the place where His people stand, in the mana of the Black Forest, and in the rhythm of life, He is the origin and the end. He is the heart of this place, He is the divine remnant of this place, He is the guardian who blesses all beings.

But beneath Him lay an unclean place. A battle decades ago had burned down the forest and meadows within a radius of hundreds of meters around the giant tree, leaving only exposed soil and rubble.

At the same time, it also exposes the evil pollution—dark and filthy growths climb and proliferate along the roots, then are suppressed by the blue fireflies. The two forces are locked in a struggle within a single body, tearing at, assimilating, and suppressing each other.

Sometimes thick, turbid fluid bursts from the tumors, which wriggle laboriously toward the forest, and sometimes even take on the form of animals. These abominable things are born with the ability to corrode and pollute, and wherever they go, they will give rise to deformities and uncontrolled proliferation.

Fortunately, they are all fragile larvae and will only be destroyed by fireflies falling from the sky. Fireflies are a deadly poison to them, a scorching flame. Once they come into contact with them, the poison will spread to their entire bodies and then evaporate and dissipate.

The open space and surrounding trees bore the marks of the scorching fire, and weathered bones lay scattered haphazardly on the ground. Under the influence of divine power, the scene was frozen in time, with only flesh and blood gradually returning to the natural cycle.

Some of these remains were clad in armor, others in carbonized leather, with decaying weapons held or interspersed among the bones. Together they twisted into bizarre poses, like dancers from the underworld, offering a war dance to a sacred tree or some other being.

The murky liquid kept trying to cling to the remains, but each time it was about to succeed, it was stopped by fireflies.

Decades ago, in the Black Forest, the elite armies of the elves and the Empire fought their final battle, witnessed by the Sky-Supporting Tree, which was ended by the accompanying mages.

At the center of the chaotic remains, the only standing skeleton is supported by a staff. Its open jaws leave one wondering: was the spellcaster's final expression one of despair? Madness? Or a triumphant laugh or roar?

"What a magnificent sight!" Mother Earth's loyal servant arrived before the rest of the investigation team. Peterson had received a revelation from his master: he was to help Mother Earth complete the final erosion of the sacred tree, taking a giant step towards Her return.

Although he was alone, the skeletons before him were the best material for the sacrificial dance. All he had to do was build a stage for these dancers to please the great mother.

"Damn it, there's not a single animal here! I should have found a way to kidnap Ella." Peterson cursed as he pulled a barrel of wine from his storage bag and added lilac, elderberry powder, and many other spiritual materials.

In the final step, he gritted his teeth and cut his palm, squeezing out blood that flowed into the barrel of wine.

Peterson watched as life flowed freely, gradually feeling weak and dizzy. Finally, it was almost over; the sap offered to the gods could feel the primal power clinging to the giant tree, boiling joyfully. He quickly stopped the bleeding and used magic to heal his wounds.

"I'm not in good shape right now." Peterson pulled a handful of herbal powder from his robe, smeared it on his face, and swallowed and inhaled it. His blood rushed to his head and almost burst through his skull. He felt everything slow down and quiet down, and he could hear his own heartbeat very clearly.

"Excellent! Excellent!" He smiled and used the activated liquid to draw a magic circle on the ground where the skeleton was located.

If you are an apprentice at the Forest Tower, you should be familiar with this smile. "Teacher Peterson" has always been a gentle and patient instructor, and he always carefully answers the questions of his apprentices while adjusting his glasses.

Always, always. He's always been a low-level mage! Even though he managed to advance to the second tier through his contributions to papers and teaching, what's the use? That damned metal piece will only ever flash blue light; without crossing the threshold of the intermediate tier, he'll never have a chance to become an associate professor or a professor!

As his colleagues were promoted one by one, and as his former student rose from intermediate mage to associate professor, Peterson continued to greet everyone in the Forest Tower with a gentle smile, but beneath that smiling mask lay deep despair.

After despair came a turning point. While on fieldwork, Peterson stumbled upon a secret society. Initially drawn to its rituals, which resembled natural magic, he was then struck by the society's absurd doctrines and discovered a chilling truth and opportunity.

That's right, those laymen are all idiots, and a great mother needs an expert like herself!

"Good, excellent." As the sketching drew to a close, Peterson began to imagine that once this mission was completed and the great beings were helped to return to the earth, he would receive the grandest blessing. He would gain power surpassing that of a mage, and he would personally plant those guys in the soil they loved most.

The stage was set up, and those ridiculous audience members were about to arrive; they were kept in the dark by me, Peterson, until the very last moment before the unveiling.

At the edge of the clearing, the twisted trees parted to make way, and sure enough, the first one to emerge was that blockhead, that noble archmage who only relied on his own power. Oh, and behind him was Ella, the best sacrifice at this moment, whom Mother Earth would like.

"Professor Peterson? Why are there two Petersons?"

The apprentices of Forest Castle looked back and forth: one was Peterson, who had gone ahead to the giant tree, his eyes bloodshot and filthy, and the other was Peterson who had been with them the whole time.

Peterson, who was traveling with her, suddenly turned around, grabbed Ella, and held a sharp knife to her neck, backing away step by step towards the tree.

"Don't move! The Great Being is a forgiving mother; she doesn't care whether the offering is fresh or alive, understand? If you want Ella to live a little longer, then behave yourselves as spectators!"

Peterson, and his incredibly lifelike double, were both much taller than Ella, and the little girl was held tightly to his chest. Rorschach and his group stood at the edge where the forest met the clearing, about a hundred meters away from Peterson, who was holding the ceremony.

"Tremble! Kneel! You foolish mortals!" Peterson couldn't help but open his arms, welcoming the arrival of his master and his own bright future.

Then, under everyone's gaze, the man with his arms outstretched straightened up and fell backward. There was a hole two fingers wide just above his forehead, running from his face to the back of his head. Due to the high temperature, the flesh and blood in the wound first coagulated, and then, due to intracranial pressure, a yellowish-white-red liquid slowly seeped out.

Kober raised his hand and summoned three wolves formed from thunderclouds that rushed forward and devoured his corpse. After three thunderclaps, only charred fragments remained, which should have eliminated any possibility of Peterson's regeneration.

The two points were aligned, and the clone holding Ella hostage was also pierced through, but his fall was due to the death of the caster. The disguise effect wore off, revealing the sallow-skinned innkeeper, who had clearly been dead for some time. Ella screamed and ran back to the group.

High temperature, high speed, and concentrated fire killed Peterson, a cultist who struck a standard pose before dying.

"Alexander, you rely too much on your natural senses. I suspect that it was after we lost our ability to sense each other that Peterson seized the opportunity to switch his original body with this scapegoat. I didn't expect that young friend Rorschach would be the first to discover it." Couber shook his head. After coming out of the basement, he secretly investigated and confirmed Peterson's abnormality.

"You should have been prepared earlier; that was too risky!" Humboldt's face turned pale.

"My clone's sensory abilities are greatly limited! Wouldn't it be alerting the enemy if we didn't find his true form?"

Rorschach continued walking towards the giant tree, sensing a familiar wind of magical energy rising within the field. Even without the ritual initiation, had the descent already begun?

"The clown is gone; the real trouble is about to begin."

(End of this chapter)