https://novelcool.info/chapter/Chapter-761-Soul-Cocoon-of-the-Sacred-Tree/13677664/
Chapter 762: Seron
At that moment, the roots of the Sacred Trees writhed violently, twisting like enormous serpents awakening from slumber, cracking the earth beneath them. Entwined and bound by vile souls from the Abyss, they began to coalesce into towering, monstrous forms—Tree Giants, immense and grotesque. Standing twenty to thirty meters tall, these abominations swung arms thick with soil, letting out guttural roars as they charged toward the Allied Forces’ soldiers.
Boom!
A deafening explosion erupted as a Dwarf warrior, mid-battle, was crushed flat. Blood and fragments of flesh splattered onto his comrades’ faces.
“Damned Monsters!”
A group of Dwarf warriors rallied together, riding Sheep Goats like knights charging a mountain peak, hurling themselves at a nearby Tree Giant. Their Iron Hammers struck the tree-root bodies with dull thuds, sending splinters flying—but the blows barely scratched the creatures. With a sudden, whip-like sweep of its arm, the Tree Giant sent the Dwarves soaring into the air. In that crushing force, their short stature—barely over a meter and a half—made resistance impossible.
A cruel smile twisted the Tree Giant’s face as it plunged its arm into the ground, roots plunging deep into the soil.
Boom!
In an instant, the roots erupted through the earth, spearing the Dwarves mid-air, tearing open their bodies. Their bloodied corpses were impaled on branches, hanging like grotesque trophies, their final moments marked by silent, terrible deaths.
“No—!”
Zhen’s face burned with fury, his eyes blazing red. He raised his Pillar of Stone Hammer high, leapt into the air, and roared with all his might:
“Monsters! You will pay for this!”
The Tree Giant sneered, its limbs lashing forward like whips—intending to crush Zhen just like the others.
“Come on, then!” Zhen swung his war hammer with immense strength. The blow struck the giant’s arm with a thunderous crash—shattering the thick root, sending it flying into the sky.
In the next instant, the King of the Dwarves swung his Heavy Hammer with every ounce of his might, driving it into the ground. The earth split open, and a towering, razor-sharp Stone Pillar burst upward from the soil—over twenty meters long.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
The pillar shot through the Tree Giant’s body from below, piercing it completely, just as it had done to the fallen Dwarves. The monstrous form collapsed, torn apart from within.
“Zhen, His Majesty, Long Live!”
“Break them!”
The Dwarves raised their weapons high, shouting in unison, their voices echoing with pride and joy. They cheered for their King’s heroic stand upon the battlefield. In his sturdy, steadfast frame, they saw the very spirit of King Aed Past—inspiring, moving, and deeply revered.
But the Silver Moon Elves, faced with the Tree Giants born from their sacred trees, hesitated. They stood frozen, reluctant to strike. In their upbringing, the Sacred Trees were sacred and inviolable. Even now, infected and twisted by Abyssal power, they could not bring themselves to destroy them.
Ria noticed their hesitation. With a flicker of motion, she vanished—reappearing at the front lines, directly facing a Tree Giant.
She slashed her Longsword through the air. A sharp, crystalline clang rang out—then the Tree Giant shrieked in agony, its massive form collapsing with a thunderous roar. The creature split cleanly in two, the severed edge charred and blackened, as if burned by divine fire.
“Comrades!” Ria’s voice rang clear and fierce. “Do not hold back! This is not the true Sacred Tree—only a parasite feeding on it!”
“Catherine’s Majesty’s mission is to eradicate these pests. To restore Serrynia to the purity of the Moonlight!”
“General Ria is right!”
“For Serrynia! For the salvation of the Sacred Tree!”
With battle cries blazing through the air, the Silver Moon Elves found their resolve. They loosed flaming arrows, formed ranks, and charged into the fray, facing the frenzied, evil Tree Giants.
The Ancient Gold Dragon circled high above, surveying the growing chaos below. Seizing the moment, he dived with terrifying speed, unleashing a torrent of scorching fire. Several Ogres screamed as they turned to ash in the inferno.
Then, from the summit of the Sacred Tree, a rasping growl echoed. Far away, hazy figures draped in long robes emerged from the mist.
“You wretched rebels! You are traitors to Serrynia, sinners of the Elf race!”
The cursed words rang across the battlefield. Instantly, thick Poison Mist poured forth, rolling across the ground like a creeping tide. Cold winds howled, lashing against the Allied Forces, overwhelming them with a suffocating, deadly presence.
“What is that?”
“Danger! Fall back—hurry!”
The front-line soldiers felt their blood freeze. They turned and fled, but the Poison Mist moved too fast—like a storm surge, like a reaper’s scythe, eager to devour every living soul.
Yet the Abyss-corrupted monsters moved freely within it, roaring forward, relentless in their assault.
“Get up!” Leand, a Silver Moon Elf, turned and reached out, trying to pull a fallen comrade to his feet.
But the wounded Elf shoved him violently aside, screaming:
“Run, Leand! Run!”
The next instant, the Poison Mist touched him. His pale skin turned black, writhing as it cracked and peeled. Flesh bared beneath, exposed and raw. Black-red poison blood poured from his mouth and nose. His eyes glazed over. In moments, he was a lifeless, horrifying corpse.
“No… no, Karl.”
Tears streamed down Leand’s face as he watched his kin die—helpless, trapped in grief. But he could do nothing but run forward, fighting with every ounce of strength.
“Stay behind me!” Ria commanded, her voice steady.
Facing the overwhelming tide of Poison Mist, the Half-Elf Holy Knight raised her Silver Sword. A soft, twilight Radiance bloomed from the blade—like stars emerging in the night sky—shielding the dozens of Silver Moon Elves behind her. This was the Guardian Radiance of a Legendary Holy Knight.
Yet even Ria’s power could not save everyone. Some Elves were too far, too slow. They fell—dissolved by the poison, their life forces stolen by the darkness lurking in fate’s depths.
“Death Fog… they’ve gone mad. Using such filthy tactics.”
Catherine watched the fallen Elves, her heart aching. But she clenched her jaw, mounted her Unicorn, and soared into the sky. She raised her Scepter high.
“In the name of Sahani—banish this toxin, cleanse this evil! Let this land return to peace!”
A silver Radiance spilled from her Scepter, spreading across the earth. Where it touched, silence fell. The Poison Mist evaporated instantly, purified. The evil monsters burned under its light, screaming in agony before crumbling to ash.
Meanwhile, the Mages of the Arcane Hermitage raised their Staves, chanting incantations. Waves of magical energy rippled through the air, summoning a gale that swept across the battlefield—driving the Poison Mist back upon its own creators.
Zhen slammed his Pillar of Stone Hammer into the ground. The earth trembled. From beneath the soil, a massive Stone Wall—hundreds of meters long—rose like a fortress, blocking the Poison Mist’s advance.
Above, the Ancient Gold Dragon flared his wings, unleashing a Scorching Storm that pushed back the toxic tide.
Together, the Allied Forces held firm. The deadly mist was contained—no longer spreading.
Far off, atop the Crown of the Heavens, a shadow descended slowly.
A figure in a long robe, staff in hand, stepped down from the sky. An Elf—tall, with the pointed ears of his kind. But his body was cracked and weathered, his face ancient, his form twisted. From his back sprouted eight slender, bristly limbs, writhing like insect legs. His eyes were pitch black, devoid of light. Four compound eyes—like those of a spider—grew beneath his hollow sockets, their gaze chilling and unnatural.
“A monstrous abomination…”
“Mother God… is that even an Elf? How could he become this?”
The Silver Moon Elves whispered in horror, their faces twisted with disgust. They refused to believe this horror could be one of their own.
Catherine, Ria, and the others froze. Recognition flashed across their faces—horror, disbelief.
They knew the creature.
The Spider-Formed Elf was none other than Selon Kolen, Grand Elder of the Elven Council, revered as the Whisper of Silver Leaves.
Even though she had feared this moment, Catherine could not have imagined Seron would go this far—transforming himself into a Human-Spider Hybrid, a monster beyond redemption.
To Catherine, Seron was not just an elder. He was her mentor—her father figure. He had taught her the history of the Silver Moon Elves, bestowed upon her sacred spells, and told her of the Moonlight Goddess. In her youth, he was her hero—her dream.
Now, decades apart, everything had changed.
Catherine stood at the head of the rebellion. Seron had fallen to the Dark Deity—twisted, monstrous, a pitiful half-spider Elf.
Her face twisted with sorrow. After a long silence, she spoke.
“Long time no see, Elder Seron.”
Or rather… the Seron I knew is already dead.
Now, only this monster remains—the one who killed him. The one who bathed his hands in the blood of his people. The one who worships the Dark God without reason.
I am still Seron. The one who guarded the Sacred Tree for a thousand years. The one who saved Serrynia alone.
Seron slowly opened his mouth, revealing fanged teeth stained with toxin. Six eyes locked onto the Elven Queen.
He shook his head, sighing.
“Catherine… you are too young. You don’t understand.”
“If you were wise, you’d remain in the Royal Palace. Not cause chaos like this. Look—do you see those remains hanging from the tree?”
He pointed a skeletal finger at the corpses. “They died because of you. You are the murderer.”
“We only needed to sacrifice a few Elves each year to gain the Mother Goddess’s protection. But you—you disrupted everything. Now I must offer up thousands of lives.”
“Silence!” Catherine’s voice thundered, eyes blazing with fury. “Seron! No—wretched monster! You’re beyond saving!”
“You murdered them for your own power! You drained their blood to feed your Dark Abyss Demon!”
“No!” Seron’s face twisted in rage. Veins bulged on his forehead. He raised his staff. “Without me, Serrynia would have fallen centuries ago! I saved you! I gave you the chance to live!”
“You should worship me! Thank me for my gifts! What did the so-called ‘gods’ do when Serrynia faced extinction? Did they come?”
“It was me—I gave everything, sacrificed myself, and gained the strength of the Octo-Armed Mother Goddess. I held back the Iron Hooves of the Fadalan Empire and preserved Serrynia’s independence!”
“When the Cataclysm of Three Centuries ago ravaged the forests, I stood alone. I drove back the Ancient Evil Entity—exiled it to the Stellar Realm!”
“And in the Abyssal Cataclysm five centuries past? I shut down the Chaos Gate. I banished the demons!”
“Catherine… what have you done for Serrynia? For a thousand years, every crisis, every disaster—I was the one who saved you!”
“Enough.”
The Ancient Gold Dragon stepped forward, his voice cold as ice.
“Your hypocrisy disgusts me.”
“The past is the past. Now is now. If you must compare, look at who you were at the beginning.”
“Now, you are a monster—corrupted by the Abyss, killing innocents. But Catherine, Her Majesty, is the true Queen Serrynia has long awaited.”
Seron sneered, his face wrinkling like cracked earth.
“Gold Dragon… you are the greatest hypocrites of all.”
“An intruder. How can you understand my unwavering devotion to Serrynia?”
“I know nothing of your claims.” Ria stepped forward, her sword drawn, voice calm but firm.
“I only know this: I will avenge my fallen kin. The perpetrator of this tragedy will pay.”
Seron roared, his voice echoing like thunder.
“Silence! You’re nothing but a half-breed, a mongrel! You have no right to even stand near the Sacred Tree!”
“Elder Seron,” Catherine said, her gaze unwavering, voice steady and sincere, “look at yourself. You are stained with blood. You’ve become this abomination. Don’t you feel shame?”
“For your past deeds, I will grant you a dignified end—so you may die as the Venerable Elder you once were.”
“Elder Seron… please. Do not make one more mistake. This will only bring greater suffering to Serrynia.”
“I am not wrong,” Seron growled, his voice thick with despair.
“I gave everything for Serrynia. The fault is not mine. It is yours—yours and the damned rebels!”
He spread his arms wide, locking eyes with the Elven Queen, his gaze wild with madness.
“When I offer your beautiful head to the Mother God, Serrynia will return to peace. The long-awaited peace will finally come.”
Before the words faded, a monstrous shadow burst from behind him. The Poison Mist swirled, coiling into a terrifying vortex—like a maw of darkness, hungry to consume all.
(End of Chapter)
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