Chapter 432

Chapter 432

Grggrrk!

Before Zeon’s eyes, the colossal gate in the wall began to open.

Through the widening crack, he felt an overwhelming tide of mana.

It was as if the world’s entire supply of mana had gathered here.

Exactly as Zeon had expected.

Uslann’s party and the caravan led Zeon and Neria inside the wall.

The moment he glimpsed the scene within, Zeon was taken aback.

The civilization here was far more developed than he had vaguely imagined.

El Harun stood within a canyon shaped like a great jar.

All along the canyon walls were countless openings—dwarven mining tunnels, no doubt.

Structures had also been built into the cliff faces.

From the mana cannons mounted across them, it was clear many were military facilities.

At the jar’s center sprawled dense clusters of buildings, forming a forest of stone.

Unlike Neo Seoul, their style was steeped in the air of the Middle Ages—

Kurayan’s traditional architecture, preserved here.

Most striking of all was the small forest among the buildings.

At its heart stood a massive tree.

So tall it overshadowed the surrounding towers—yet even at a glance, its condition was dire.

Its leaves had withered.

Its trunk shriveled and brittle, ready to collapse.

Then Neria murmured under her breath:

“The World Tree is dying.”

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“That’s… the World Tree?”

“It’s not a true one. When they crossed to Earth, they forced a branch to grow. That must be it.”

The World Tree—true to its name—was the pillar that sustained Kurayan itself.

Its collapse was what doomed that world.

When the races migrated to Earth, they carried branches with them.

Their descendants would need the World Tree to survive.

So when they laid the foundations of El Harun, the very first thing they did—was plant those branches.

Dozens were planted. Only one endured.

Over the past century, it had grown rapidly. But unable to escape its origin as a severed branch, it began to wither.

The crisis had shaken every race in El Harun.

They tried everything to save it. Nothing worked.

And so, the whole city lived under a shadow of despair.

Zeon asked quietly:

“From a branch… a true World Tree cannot be raised?”

“All of its power is concentrated in a single seed. Only from seed can it sprout strong enough to uphold a world. A branch-grown tree—an imitation—can never replace the real thing. The strain was inevitable. That’s why it’s dying.”

“I see.”

Zeon nodded at the truth he had not known.

‘A World Tree seed… Is fate mocking me? Of all things, that seed ended up in my hands.’

The seed unearthed beneath the mana-stone mines… passed through gamblers’ hands…

until it came to him.

Now Gaia carried it, but no matter—its master was Zeon.

Looking at this dying tree, he felt something strange stir within him.

He asked Neria:

“When it finally dies… what happens?”

“All the barriers it sustained will collapse.”

“So the wards here have been held by the World Tree’s power?”

“Yes.”

“Then their hearts must be burning to ash already.”

“Undoubtedly.”

Neria nodded gravely.

At that moment, Uslann turned to Jupiro.

“You, guide those two to their lodging. I’ll go make my report.”

“Yes, captain!”

Jupiro bowed.

Just then, Neria asked Hodran:

“Could we look around El Harun first?”

“You must be tired. Wouldn’t you rather rest?”

“More than resting, I want to see. I’m sure Zeon does too.”

She glanced at Zeon.

He only lifted a shoulder in assent.

Uslann, after a moment’s look, told Jupiro:

“Then you lead them. But don’t let them near any forbidden zones.”

“Yes.”

Jupiro stepped up to them.

He said firmly:

“For outsiders, only a fraction of this city is open. If you wish to see even that, you must obey my instructions. Swear it, and I’ll guide you.”

“I will.”

“I promise.”

Both answered at once.

“Then follow me. From now, I’ll show you the most advanced city on Earth.”

Pride rang unhidden in Jupiro’s voice.

He was certain once they saw El Harun’s greatness, they would be in awe.

But contrary to his expectations, Zeon felt doubtful.

Compared to Neo Seoul—the vast human metropolis—this place was hardly impressive.

---

El Harun, like Neo Seoul, was divided into districts.

Each race lived in its own quarter.

Humans raised tall buildings along the busiest streets. Elves gathered around the forest and the World Tree.

Dwarves carved their homes into the canyon walls.

Beastkin formed their own packs. Smaller races had their own corners as well.

The humans’ district lay on the outer edge.

Their numbers were few compared to elves or orcs, so they were pushed to the periphery.

At its center stood a massive structure—The Hall of Guardians.

Every awakened and warrior among humans belonged to it.

It was also Uslann’s destination.

Any human awakened returning from outside was required to report there first.

When Uslann entered the hall, a man in heavy armor approached.

A beard bristled like porcupine quills across his face. His eyes gleamed sharp.

His build rivaled even beastkin.

His name was Goldwyn—captain of the Guardians’ warriors.

Uslann gave him a quick bow.

“Captain Goldwyn!”

“Uslann! You’re back now? What of Derod?”

“I must report that urgently. Please, let me see the Lord at once.”

“Right now?”

“Yes. The matter is dire.”

“Then come with me.”

Goldwyn immediately led the way.

He brought Uslann to the grandest chamber of the hall—the quarters of its Lord, Riala.

“Lord! It is I, Goldwyn. Uslann has urgent news. May we enter?”

“Come!”

At her voice, Goldwyn opened the door.

Inside, a warrior woman sat in council with another.

Her frame was sturdy, armored in light plate, her body scarred all over.

She was like a living Amazon from legend.

This was Riala, master of the Hall of Guardians.

Before her stood a horned man—

Garante, priest of the Highlanders.

Between them rested a crystal sphere, fractured with cracks.

Goldwyn bowed.

“Forgive us for interrupting your important talk.”

“It’s fine. Uslann has returned, you say?”

Riala turned her gaze.

Uslann bowed as well.

“I come with urgent report.”

“What is it? What of Derod?”

“Derod is dead.”

“Dead? Then good. And the Black Horn—retrieved?”

“It is for that reason I am here.”

“…What?”

Riala’s brows knit.

She smelled bad news in his tone.

“Derod found a dungeon tied to the Black Horn—and opened it.”

Her eyes widened.

“You mean… he unsealed the Black Queen’s dungeon?”

“I am sorry.”

Bang!

Riala slammed the table and shot to her feet.

Her flushed face showed her shock.

“Then what of the Black Queen?!”

“By the time we arrived, she had already left the dungeon.”

“You failed to capture her?”

“I apologize.”

“Damn it all!”

Riala raked both hands through her hair, rough as any man.

Her locks tangled, but she cared nothing.

Then Garante spoke.

“Then this crystal’s fracture was the gods’ warning—of the Black Queen.”

“Hah! So that’s what it means?”

“No other explanation fits.”

“Damn it! The Black Queen…”

Riala scowled deeply.

Though she looked no older than thirty, she was past two hundred years.

She had outlived the human limit.

And she was from Kurayan itself.

So she knew better than any the legend of the Black Queen.

Knew the destruction she wrought.

“If she has truly broken free…”

“She will surely come to El Harun.”

Garante’s eyes sank dark.

He knew her as well as Riala did.

If it was truly the Black Queen, she would come. Whatever it took.

Riala said sharply:

“We can’t sit here. Call the council—immediately.”

“Yes. Only united can we face her.”

Garante agreed.

Strengthened, Riala looked to Goldwyn.

“Goldwyn!”

“Yes, my Lord!”

“Go now. In my name, summon the council.”

“At once.”

“If they refuse, take it directly to Lord Del Roa.”

“It shall be done.”

Goldwyn bowed and hurried out.

Riala turned to Garante.

“We must move as well.”

“Yes.”

He rose, gathering the crystal sphere.

He said to Uslann:

“You’ve done well.”

“No. I failed to complete the task.”

“The Black Queen is not one you could have stopped. You did well enough.”

“…Thank you.”

“But…”

Suddenly Garante trailed off.

His eyes fixed sharply on Uslann.

Uslann frowned.

“What is it?”

“You are not as you should be.”

“…What?”

“Your state is not normal.”

“I don’t understand. I am perfectly normal.”

“You may think so. But you are not.”

Riala, halfway out the door, turned back.

“What do you mean? Uslann, not normal?”

“He is enthralled.”

“Enthralled?”

“Wait. By the name of the god I serve—‘Truth, be revealed.’”

Fwaahhh—!

The crystal in his hand flared, spilling blinding light.

It swept over Uslann like a storm.

And then—

A black aura writhed around him, coiling like serpents.

“What’s that?!”

“The Black Queen’s power. She has enthralled him.”

“Shit! Uslann! Who did you meet? Tell me everyone you met!”

“Only a human named Zeon… and a woman named Neria.”

Uslann answered, bewildered.

Riala hissed:

“That woman Neria—she is the Black Queen. Where is she now?”

“She… she must be touring El Harun.”

“She’s already inside?!”