A few hours later, Geoffrey heard the news.
This was only possible because she’d made up her mind and broke through the quarantine zone.
“…What in the world is going on here?”
Inside the small infirmary lay a pale child on the bed, along with the queen and a doctor. Flitting her gaze between them, Geoffrey couldn’t hold back her barrage of questions.
Trying to steady her breath that threatened to waver, but as soon as she let her guard down, it immediately went haywire.
“It was an accident.”
“…I can see that much already.”
As Geoffrey reached out to pinch Carriel’s brow, the queen stopped her hand.
“Geoffrey, I warned you not to recklessly use that power, didn’t I?”
“Does this look like reckless usage to you?”
“Tch, tch. No wonder the spirits didn’t choose you. How pitiful.”
The insult sent Geoffrey glaring daggers at the doctor.
“Care to test if those spirits would save you now?”
Mana flowed from her body, distorting the surrounding space like ripples.
Unlike the ignorant mages who honed their magic for battles, massacres, and tragedies, she walked the path of true magic.
Though others claimed to walk the same path, a true mage walks theirs without misusing their knowledge and abilities for selfish desires.
But that doesn’t mean they’re powerless.
Had she been just another bookish mage obsessed with theories and knowledge, she wouldn’t have been considered one of the irreplaceable pillars among the continent’s strongest mages—the Magic Empress.
“Weak little beasts always squawk the loudest.”
Without missing a beat, Geoffrey channeled her mana into a fiery bolt aimed straight at the doctor’s mouth. However, he didn’t flinch, instead dissipating it with a translucent wind barrier.
“What insolence is this, girl?”
“That’s enough.”
At the queen’s intervention, the roiling mana within Geoffrey dissipated instantly—not by her own will but by the queen’s direct interference.
To act as a mediator, one must possess the necessary qualifications. And the queen undeniably had them in spades.
Her lips parted slightly as she placed a finger over them.
“Even though you’ve regulated the effects to avoid harming the patient, I can no longer guarantee safety. Yet you still behave this way?”
“He insulted me first.”
“At least be grateful I enlightened you.”
“Enough with the idle chatter. If you insist on continuing, I’ll arrange a duel outside. Shall we proceed?”
The doctor backed off.
“I have no reason to engage in such barbaric and uncivilized behavior.”
“So calling me out here and making a scene is what you call dignified conduct?”
“Khhem!”
“Geoffrey. You too.”
“…”
Turning her head, Geoffrey clicked her tongue under her breath.
“So, are you telling me to just sit here and watch this mess unfold?”
“I understand. You’re his guardian here in some sense. But even so… you cannot reveal everything, despite your qualifications.”
“…World Tree, Sacred Tree’s sanctuary. What exactly did you see there?”
Geoffrey wasn’t oblivious. She knew full well Carriel hadn’t disclosed everything to her.
But she didn’t press further. There are things better left unknown.
And this crisis probably stemmed from something she chose not to inquire about.
“Well then. Come along.”
Taking the queen’s extended hand after clicking her tongue again, Geoffrey followed.
The memory the queen shared began with Carriel responding to a doctor’s provocation during a discussion, leading to self-harm—a state that could’ve easily killed him.
But that wasn’t all.
Reaching a dead-end while walking with the sixth elder inside the Sacred Tree’s sanctuary, Carriel prayed upon suggestion. Soon after, he slipped into a semi-trance state, witnessing visions and hearing voices directly from the Sacred Tree.
However, he couldn’t grasp the entirety of it.
“…”
Cold sweat poured down Geoffrey’s body as soon as she released the queen’s hand. Wiping her forehead, she asked,
“What…what is this? What is all this supposed to mean?”
“We mulled over Carriel’s words repeatedly and decided to delve into his memories. Since I stand on the side of protecting Carriel, I consulted two senators divided on his treatment before proceeding.”
“…So you didn’t show me everything?”
“This alone is more than sufficient favor. Geoffrey, being his guardian is merely your personal wish.”
“Your Majesty.”
“Privately enforcing discipline is impossible. Even allowing exceptions is granting you special courtesy. Originally, your very presence here should be unforgivable.”
“…Haa.”
In the memory, Carriel’s self-harm should’ve killed him outright. Yet, without any scars, he appeared perfectly fine—indicating he’d paid quite a hefty price. Still, certain matters needed addressing.
Geoffrey frowned deeply and questioned,
“Your Majesty, why am I only now learning that the Sacred Tree commanded Carriel to die?”
“If you’d known, would you have simply stood by and watched?”
“No way.”
“That’s why.”
“How about sending him back to the Empire? His existence is akin to a toxic mushroom; the longer we keep him, the worse it gets for the forest ecosystem.”
“But until now, it gave us control over various parts of the continent. We’re merely contract holders. Whether or not to hand him over depends on the league’s stance. Or, Geoffrey, do you wish us to provoke conflict with them? Worse, war? Have you thought about the tragedy our kin scattered across the continent might face?”
“How is this comparable to what the Empire has done?”
“You know well what the hegemonic nations have done. When Vera Empire dominated, they oppressed us even without setting foot deep inland. Wasn’t your lineage swept away by them too?”
“Is this situation similar?”
“Currently, they’re friendly towards us, but humans are short-lived and greedy. Unlike contemporary heroes who accept the responsibility of power, we can’t guarantee future generations will follow suit.”
“So you intend to rein them in starting now?”
“This is entirely their own doing. Didn’t they offer Carriel to prevent war?”
“But…”
This conversation wasn’t about convincing anyone. From the Empire’s perspective, having Geoffrey—an advisor, mentor, and teacher to the royal family and Nine Heroes—stay within the heart of the elves’ territory was preferable.
Even rival states agreed, using Carriel as leverage.
Everything seemed resolved—except for the Sacred Tree commanding its followers to kill their own child and believer.
“Geoffrey, we’re fully aware of what messing with Carriel entails.”
“Then what do you plan to do now? This kid seems capable of not only understanding but also communicating with the Sacred Tree. He comprehends the visions it shows. Doesn’t this indicate something far more serious than even those with foresight anticipated?”
“That’s something we’re contemplating. Your input is welcome since you’re here anyway. What do you suggest we do?”
“…”
Difficult as it may seem, it wasn’t overly complex. The influence of the World Tree is absolute to the elves. So, if it becomes known that Carriel can communicate mutually with it…
“Do you truly believe he’ll overcome this unfortunate destiny bestowed upon him once more, Your Majesty?”
“That remains to be seen.”
Yet, despite the miraculous possibilities of Carriel, believers who received such divine commands would undoubtedly seek to fulfill them—directly or indirectly.
But if this situation could somehow be reversed…
Perhaps he could become another figure destined to carry forward the great achievements of the elves as a human.
Unfortunately, circumstances weren’t favorable this time.
“To burn the world…”
If the visions shown by the World Tree caused him to immerse himself so deeply that he lost the ability to distinguish reality from illusion…
This Carriel wasn’t the exceptionally intelligent boy Geoffrey knew but potentially another incarnation of someone who once truly set the world ablaze.
And both Geoffrey, the queen, and the two doctors had witnessed it.
At some point, Carriel not only consumed the entire forest of the elves but encircled it, slaughtering those trying to escape and burning alive those trapped inside—prisoners suffering miserably.
“If the Sacred Tree isn’t protecting us but seeking to destroy the world, what does that mean?”
“Nonsense.”
One of the doctors scoffed dismissively.
“Don’t entertain such absurd thoughts. Wherever you dare…”
“…”
“If that’s the case, then our very existence loses meaning. Just like those humans who proclaimed themselves the chosen race, how many atrocities have they committed due to their arrogance?”
“Is that comparable to this?”
“We’re noble and honorable. If we deny this fact… where would our discipline, decorum, and rules vanish to? If we were truly meant to destroy and burn the world, we wouldn’t need anyone else’s help—we’re sufficient on our own!”
“Haa.”
The queen sighed at the doctor’s passionate speech.
But.
Geoffrey thought otherwise.
But you misunderstand one crucial thing. What if the Sacred Tree seeks to destroy the world because of us?
Have you never considered such a possibility?
Once, the People of Light expanded their influence across the continent and beyond, dominating the world. How much blood, tears, and sweat flowed because of them?
When the Tribe of the Forest reclaimed the Sacred Tree, enslaved races found liberation.
But over time, the Tribe of the Forest began repeating the same mistakes the People of Light made.
Blood sacrifices to the Sacred Tree. Glory for us. Glory to the Sacred Tree.
Even if we quickly realized our errors, that realization stems from fae concepts. For five hundred years, this cycle persisted.
Though we never dominated the world like the People of Light, nearby species certainly suffered and wallowed in despair.
“We’re still far from enlightenment.”
We’re a species inherently designed to be arrogant. Hence, we emphasize restraint, decorum, and discipline in our lives, valuing reason over emotion and coldness over passion.
But does that absolve us of past sins?
What’s done is done.
Alright, let’s assume that.
But does that mean those sins will ever truly fade?
“The certain truth is that the Sacred Tree hasn’t given a definitive timeline for when or if it wants Carriel dead. Thus, we still have time.”
The queen shifted the atmosphere with these words.
“Our abilities couldn’t fully uncover Carriel’s memories. This is likely due to the Sacred Tree’s influence. Therefore, we’ll speak with him again once he awakens. I trust both of you agree with this approach?”
The two doctors placed their right hands diagonally across their chests and bowed respectfully.
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“No objections. Proceed as you wish.”
“Excellent. That’s settled then. And Geoffrey, despite the inconvenience, take charge of his protection for now.”
“There’s no one else suitable besides me, it seems.”
With narrowed eyes, Geoffrey readily accepted.
====
“That’s how it happened.”
Two days later.
Upon regaining consciousness, Carriel learned fragments of events that occurred while he was unconscious through the memories Geoffrey showed him.
“I guess you couldn’t see everything, huh?”
Actually, even if he had shown everything, it wouldn’t have mattered much. If Geoffrey had peeked into his past before coming here, things might’ve gotten heated. Maybe he chose not to notice.
Surprisingly, they were unaware of his exchanges with the World Tree. Perhaps the abilities of this race stem from the World Tree itself.
Carriel roughly concluded as much. For now.
His head wasn’t functioning optimally right after waking up.
“Why did you do something so reckless?”
“Are you asking this knowingly? Of course, I expected to survive.”
“But implementing that expectation is another matter altogether, isn’t it?”
What if they had really left him to die? It wasn’t an unlikely scenario.
“Because I told you before, right? Everything I do now means nothing… it must mean nothing.”
Watching him grin nonchalantly, Geoffrey felt a chill run down her spine.
“And Father said something interesting.”
“…Ruelde?”
“In the most desperate situations, people who try to survive often end up dying more miserably compared to those who accept death.”
“That’s…”
Probably from when the Demon King’s army invaded. But the implication was…
“Sometimes, the safest place is the grave. Though we’re wired to instinctively pursue life and avoid death, ironically, that instinct brings us closer to death.”
“…”
“I can’t let my instincts drag me around like livestock, can I?”
Many are quick learners. Many are skilled in practice.
But few can learn and apply that knowledge effectively. And fewer still can produce optimal results from that application.
“Anyway… one question. Carriel, what did you hear and see from the World Tree?”
“If you have the ability to sift through memories, you’ve likely seen everything worth seeing, haven’t you?”
“That’s not everything, and I want to know how it’s affected you. I want to understand.”
“Why? Afraid I’ll gleefully burn this rotten world to ashes like the World Tree showed me?”
Despite the lighthearted tone, his words carried an unsettling weight, far removed from his usual whimsical demeanor.
“Unnecessary worry. If I intended to do that, why would the World Tree command my death? Wouldn’t it rather ask the elves to assist me?”
“…True. Right. So, there’s a straightforward way to avoid that, isn’t there?”
It was a simple solution.
“Carriel, if you tell the World Tree you’ll willingly do what it wants… then it loses any reason to harm you, doesn’t it?”
“…”
Carriel tilted his head slightly, offering only a smile.
Geoffrey couldn’t decipher the meaning behind that smile. From the moment she first met him, neither she nor even the queen, specialized in such abilities, could discern whether his words were lies or truths.
No, he was always sincere. Never once did his mindset falter.
Yet… why did trees and rocks, which change with seasons and environments, seem less constant than this human child?
“But Carriel, your statement assumes the World Tree genuinely seeks to protect and save the world. If, as you say, it aims to destroy and burn it instead, doesn’t your logic contradict itself? And you’re fully aware of that, aren’t you?”
“Hmm, was it?”
Occasionally.
More than a hundred words.
Just a single word.
Or silence.
Or a faint smile can feel heavier than anything else in the world.
…Like now.