It had been a few weeks since Decem received the final report about the arrival of the last dark elf refugees. The council had decided to relocate the refugees to the southern part of the kingdom—a strategic move to avoid tensions with the native population, who largely resided in the central regions.
The decision had been a logistical nightmare, but it was the only way to maintain peace. Still, the growing number of reports on his desk was a sobering reminder that governance was less about heroics and more about diligence.
Decem let out a long, weary sigh. I thought being in a fantasy world would be more exciting adventuring, fighting monsters, living the dream and stuff. Instead, I'm drowning in sea of paperwork. He leaned back in his chair, glaring at the reports. They covered everything from the kingdom's budget to monster sightings and famine crises.
Though most of it was overwhelming, the food shortages struck a nerve. From his observations, many elves lacked basic access to food and education. He was working to address these issues or rather, the council was.
I'm just approving what they hand me until I figure out how to run this place properly. He picked up another report, muttering, "Dark Elf: Investigating the Sudden Surge of Refugees."
His brows furrowed as he scanned the document. They've already got leads? Impressive, that's professionals for you.
The report detailed the strange influx of dark elf refugees. It began weeks ago, slowly at first, with a handful arriving at the kingdom's borders. But the numbers had steadily grown until it became an exodus.
Refugee accounts all pointed to one reason: The Evil Tree.
Every mention of it came with palpable fear in their words and eyes. Witness descriptions painted a harrowing picture:
"A giant tree, almost 100 meters tall, with six massive tentacle-like branches stretching over 300 meters. The top of its head is covered in green moss, and at its trunk lies a cavernous maw filled with jagged teeth. Some say it has more tentacles, and its size defies comprehension."
The tree had brought death in its wake. Plants and animals withered when it appeared, their life force seemingly drained. The dark elves had no choice but to flee.
Decem rubbed his temples. "The Evil Tree, huh? I remember it from the side volume I skipped. It had ridiculous HP for its level. That's all I know."
He groaned. Ugh, I should've read it.
"Read what, my lord?" Aerin's voice startled him.
"Ah! The reports, of course. I meant the reports!" Decem quickly covered, clearing his throat.
Turning back to the paper, he mused aloud, "Absorbing life force, huh? That's... interesting."
An idea sparked in his mind. Wait. Could I replicate that? A power that drains life force? Imagine the possibilities... His thoughts spiraled into a gleeful frenzy, a sinister grin creeping across his face.
Unbeknownst to him, a maid passing outside the room froze at the sound of his laughter, trembling.
"My lord?" Aerin's voice snapped him out of his reverie. Her expression was a mix of confusion and concern.
"Yes, yes! My apologies, Aerin. Just—uh—just reading a funny section of the report!" He coughed awkwardly.
"...Funny?" Aerin raised a skeptical brow but decided not to press further. "You said you know what this creature is?"
"Uh... yes!" Decem replied, perhaps a bit too hastily.
Aerin's demeanor shifted instantly. Her eyes gleamed with determination. "Then we must act immediately, my lord! An attack on any elf is an attack on the entire kingdom. We cannot let this stand!"
Decem blinked, taken aback by her fervor. Whoa, hold on! I said I know what it is, not how to kill it! Is she a battle freak or something?
"Y-yes, of course," he stammered, buying time to compose himself. "But first, we need more information. We can't charge into battle unprepared."
Aerin nodded sharply. "I will assemble scouts to gather intelligence immediately."
As she left the room, Decem slumped back into his chair, pinching the bridge of his nose. What have I gotten myself into?
It was 6 days later when a knock on Decem's door was hurried, breaking the silence of his study. "Enter," he called, already dreading the news.
Aerin stepped in, her usual stoic demeanor replaced with a grim expression. "My lord, the second reconnaissance team… they haven't returned either."
Decem's heart sank. "What do you mean? No one made it back?"
She shook her head. "No survivors, my lord. We sent a follow-up team after the first group disappeared, and they found only remnants—torn equipment, shattered weapons, and... blood. Whatever is out there is powerful."
Decem stood, his hands clenching into fists. "And no witnesses to tell us what we're dealing with?"
"None," Aerin said, her voice somber. "But based on the descriptions from the refugees, it has to be the Evil Tree. The Great Forest of Tob has become its hunting ground, and anyone who enters never comes back."
For a moment, silence hung between them. Then Decem straightened, his eyes blazing with determination. "If no one else can bring back answers, I'll go myself."
Aerin's eyes widened. "My lord, that's too dangerous. You're the king. Your life is too valuable to risk."
"And what kind of king would I be if I let my people suffer while I cower behind these walls?" Decem shot back. "I'm not just a ruler, Aerin. I'm also the strongest druid this kingdom has. If the Evil Tree is as dangerous as they say, then I'm the one who needs to face it."
Aerin hesitated, her lips pressed into a thin line. "If you're set on this, then I'm coming with you."
"No," Decem said firmly. "You're needed here to keep things running while I'm gone. I trust you, Aerin. Besides, I won't be going alone. I'll gather a team our best warriors and mages. If we're to face this thing, we'll need a strategy and every advantage we can get."
The following morning, the castle buzzed with activity. Decem's announcement had sent shockwaves through the kingdom, but it also ignited a spark of hope. The people knew their king wasn't abandoning them, he was leading from the front.
In the armory, Decem inspected his equipment. His enchanted staff, crafted from the strongest elven woods and inscribed with ancient runes, shimmered faintly in the torchlight. It thrummed with latent power, ready to channel his druidic magic.
As he prepared, Elderberry, the kingdom's chief alchemist, approached with a satchel of potions. "Your Majesty, I've prepared these for your journey. Healing potions, invisibility potions, and... this."
Elderberry held up a vial filled with a swirling green liquid.
"What's that?" Decem asked, intrigued.
"mana restoratives," Elderberry explained. "It temporarily restore a small amount of your mana. It might give you an edge if the Evil Tree truly more powerful than we might know."
Decem accepted the vial with a nod. "Thank you, Elderberry. I'll make good use of it."
The alchemist hesitated before speaking again. "Your Majesty, the Great Forest of Tob is no ordinary place. Even more so now that thing has appeared. Please, be careful."
"I will," Decem promised.
3 days later, somewhere in the forest of Tob
By midday, Decem and his handpicked team were on the move. The group consisted of 3 individuals: Ark as the frontline, Mytheril as the ranger, and me as the druid support.
Looking at his team Decem eye twitch a little. I know I said I would form a capable team but damn. This is the best the kingdom can offer? This sucks. We're barely qualified to take on a small raid boss let alone something as strong as that monster.
We're practically cooked at this point. I could have bring Kaelan, but I don't wanna risk him dying to that monster. He's just not strong enough to tank that shit.
Mytheril Suppresingly enough is actually quite strong, and he isn't even one of my kids. He should at least be in the realm of heroes by new world standards. Around 35ish to 40ish, something in between. I don't really know but he was strong enough to tank a hit from one of my summons when I drafted the team.
And that summon was around level 70. So he should be around that level at least. Looking around he couldn't help but feel a little scared. The fuck was he thinking when He said he'll deal with it.
I have no fucking experience in fighting, let alone fighting a monster. I'm gonna die. A sudden sound of twiggs snapping surprise him.
Jolting backwards he screamed [fireball] a ball of flame lunch to the near by trees where the sound came.
Boom!
Ark and Mytheril suddenly because alert when December suddenly shouted. "My king!" On edge the two waited for anything to come out.
A few minutes later they finally relax, releasing the breath Mytheril spoke, "whatever that was it already left as alone, how it manage to sneak near us without me noticing is terrifying. It's a good thing he's majesty noticed immediately." Mytheril said with genuine admiration in his eyes.
"I apologize if my Ranger skills are lacking your majesty, I will thrive to improve myself better nextime." Mytheril said.
Unbeknownst to him, Decem is currently sweating like hell.
What the fuck, why did I scream like girl! Oh my god I wanna dug a hole and bury myself. That was so fucking embarrassing.
I'm pretty sure nothing was their, it was because I was to scared and panicked. Before I knew it I already lunch a fireball where the sound came from.
Uaghh I'm so stupid, if there was any monsters near by they would have heared the sound and came here to attack us because some dumb bitch decided to blow the nearest object.
Trying to salvage his dignity, he cleared his throat. "Yes... It seems whatever it was has left. Let's proceed."
The journey inside the Great Forest of Tob was uneventful, but tension hung in the air. As they neared the forest's edge, the atmosphere changed. The trees grew taller and darker, their twisted branches forming a canopy that blocked out the sun. The air was thick with an unnatural stillness, broken only by the occasional rustle of leaves.
"This place feels... wrong," Ark muttered, gripping his sword tightly.
"It feels alive," Decem said. "Something is controlling it be on guard."
Decem led the way, his senses heightened. The deeper they ventured, the more oppressive the forest became. Strange noises seemed to echo from the shadows, and the ground was littered with withered plants and skeletal remains.
Finally, they reached a clearing. In the center stood the remnants of the second reconnaissance team's camp. Torn tents and shattered weapons lay scattered across the shattered ground, and the stench of decay hung heavy in the air.
"Spread out and look for clues," Decem ordered.
As his team searched the area, Decem approached what appeared to be a massive claw mark gouged into the earth. The sheer size of it made his blood run cold.
The fuck is this? Why the hell is there massive claw marks here? Those the Evil tree have claws?
Do trees have claws? Why am I even asking that.
"Something is approaching us," the Mytheril said, his voice barely above a whisper.
Before Decem could respond, the ground beneath them began to tremble. The air grew thick with an unnatural energy, and the clearing was suddenly bathed in an eerie green light.
From the shadows, a deep, guttural roar echoed through the forest, and the trees seemed to bend and twist toward the sound.
"It knows we're here," Decem said, glowing runes appeared in his hands. "Everyone, prepare yourselves."