Chapter 162: World Tree’s Birth
According to the ancient texts, a very long time ago, there existed a tree that was no different from the others. It had no thoughts, no emotions, and certainly no consciousness. It simply stood there, living as any normal tree would.
But then, one day, something changed.
The tree began to see the world around it. It could feel the wind brushing against its leaves, the creatures crawling along its bark, and even sense the warmth of the sun above. Bit by bit, it developed a faint spark of intelligence.
And the reason for this miraculous transformation was traced to a strange, ever-changing symbol that had mysteriously appeared on its trunk. No one knew where it came from. But that symbol—the Rune—was unlike anything in the world.
As time passed, the tree’s awareness continued to grow. Its size expanded, its strength deepened, and its intelligence evolved to an extraordinary level. It became something far more than a simple tree. And with that higher awareness, it began to study the symbol carved into its body, trying to understand the secrets it held.
For the next five hundred years, the tree focused completely on the mysteries of the Rune, lost in thought, trying to decipher its meaning. But its deep contemplation was interrupted one day when the beasts of the land began attacking it. They tore into its branches, chewed on its bark, and ate away at its leaves, they started to crave the tree.
The tree didn’t like that.
It retaliated by lashing out with its roots, killing every single beast that dared harm it. And because it didn’t want to be disturbed again while it meditated, it decided to create guardians.
From its very own essence, the tree gave birth to a new race—beings made to protect it and live in harmony with its presence.
That was how the Elves were born.
Once its protectors were in place, the tree returned to its silent journey of comprehending the Rune. Another five hundred years passed. And then, when the tree finally opened its awareness again, it saw something that filled it with sorrow.
The Elves, the ones it had created with care, were now on the verge of dying out.
And the mysterious symbol—the Rune that had sparked its transformation—was no longer there. It had vanished without a trace.
The tree understood then that someone, or something, had come and taken it away.
Rage burned deep within its heart. But after spending so many centuries immersed in the understanding of life, after grasping almost seventy percent of the Rune’s secrets, the tree no longer desired destruction or death.
Instead, it chose creation once again.
It spread its roots wide and grew many more trees in the land surrounding it, building a natural barrier to keep itself safe from future harm.
Then, in its wisdom, it began to pass down the knowledge it had gained.
It chose one elf among its children to serve as Queen, and to that chosen one, the tree imparted the understanding of Runic Life Magic, beginning the sacred tradition that would be passed down through generations, a ritual that carried the will of the World Tree itself.
"So this is how the elves were born...? I never heard anything like this before," Serena said, her voice low and filled with wonder. "Everyone always believed that the Great Mother had existed since the very beginning of the world."
"Yeah, it surprised me too," Ash replied, his tone casual but thoughtful. "But are you really okay with me knowing all this? From what I can tell, only the king or queen is supposed to learn these kinds of secrets."
During the time he spent with Serena, Ash had come to acknowledge something very clearly—Serena was not just a normal elf. She was a fast learner, a true genius. If someone explained a single concept to her, she could grasp ten more from it on her own, without any guidance.
"I don’t mind," Serena replied with honesty in her voice, her gaze steady. "If not for you, I would have been stuck in this library, completely blind to the danger the Great Mother was facing. And if not for your help—and your genius mind—I probably would have never been able to translate this ancient text successfully."
Ash didn’t respond aloud. He just smiled faintly behind the mask he wore.
Genius mind? If only she knew...that I’m just faking it. I already know the language. I’m only pretending to slowly decode the meanings. If she ever finds out I’m just acting... well, no clue how she’ll react to that.
He had already helped translate many spells from the text, and Serena had started to practice them.
She was progressing at an impressive rate.
Let’s see, if she can reach the level needed to suppress the demonic spirits using her Life Magic. Then it will make the things a whole lot easier for me.
Ash hadn’t returned to the isolated space or tried to destroy the demonic heart again. Despite the fact that more spirits were being consumed or corrupted day by day, he remained patient.
Because he knew something very clearly—if the World Tree could be saved, new spirits would be born again. That was the nature of the cycle. The death of the current spirits was tragic, but not the end.
And besides, Ash still had to begin experimenting with the spells for his own use. It would take time, careful testing, and extreme patience to gauge how well he could control or modify them. It was not something that could be rushed.
"What are you thinking about now?" Serena’s voice brought him back from his thoughts.
After he had pointed out her habit of raising her voice in sensitive areas, she had started taking care of it.
Now she either used a sound-blocking device or lowered her tone instinctively. That change, more than anything, had left an impression on him.
Ash liked that Serena was someone who learned from her mistakes. She wasn’t reckless, and once she realized her errors, she corrected them without complaint or drama. That kind of trait was rare—and he respected it.
"Nothing important," he replied casually, not looking up from the scroll.
Serena pouted, narrowing her eyes slightly. She hated how he always avoided answering her properly.
"Are you really not going to tell me your real name?"
"It is pointless," Ash replied plainly.
"What do you mean it is pointless? That’s not how normal people think!" Serena replied, visibly frustrated.
"I am only here to fulfill my end of the agreement. There is no reason to involve emotions in something that is meant to be a simple exchange."
Hmph! Arrogant bastard. What exchange? You’re not gaining anything from helping me. If anything, this is just a one-sided favor.
Serena gritted her teeth and looked away. She did not want to admit it, but his cold attitude was starting to affect her mood more than she expected.
Ugghh... I really need to get a grip on myself. I am the Elf Queen. I cannot let my emotions control me. Emotions are dangerous. A Queen must act with calm, clarity, and complete self-control. I need to keep my focus.
She closed her eyes briefly, steadying her thoughts, then opened them again.
But then something suddenly hit her. A question she had forgotten to ask until now.
"Wait. Are you even an elf?" Serena asked, her voice curious.
It struck her that, despite spending many days together, she still didn’t know his race. She had asked him many things, but when it came to his identity, Ash either answered vaguely or chose not to answer at all.
"Does that even matter?" Ash asked, not pausing in his writing, as he continued translating the next portion of the ancient text.
"Yes. It matters," Serena replied, her tone firm and unwavering.
...but.
There is only silence, Ash did not respond.
This annoying fucker just ignored my question again... UGHHHH... I swear, I want to hit him so bad right now.
She clenched her fists, her entire body trembling from the sheer force of holding back her frustration. He had completely ignored her again, as if she hadn’t said anything at all.
Just like that, time continued to flow.
***
Three weeks later.
At one of the far corners of the human continent, tucked deep within the shadows of tall, crooked buildings, there existed a place where life struggled more than it bloomed.
A place where the population was dense, but the facilities were almost nonexistent.
It was, in every sense, a slum.
Inside a dimly lit orphanage, the scent of herbs mixed with the mustiness of worn-out wood. The room was quiet, but heavy. On a simple wooden floor sat a cloaked figure, and in front of him, lying on a thin mattress, was a small boy no older than 8.
His chest rose in shallow, broken breaths. His face was pale, lips tinged blue, and the center of his chest was discolored, almost bruised from within.
One of the caretakers sat beside the child, holding his tiny hand with trembling fingers, tears silently sliding down her cheeks.
The cloaked figure placed his hand softly over the child’s chest, he closed his eyes and concentrated.
The cloaked figure was none other than Ash.
His thoughts moved quickly.
His breathing is too shallow. The mana circuit near the heart has twisted slightly... That’s what’s disrupting the flow and causing the bluish tint.
"Did he do any heavy work today?" Ash asked, his voice calm but firm.
The woman nodded quickly, wiping her tears with the edge of her sleeve.
"The condition of the orphanage is bad, but these little ones... they don’t listen. They keep going into the forest to cut trees. They want to help. They say they can sell the wood and make sure no one here goes to bed hungry."
Her voice broke as she added, "We workers do what we can. We take up jobs here and there to keep the place running."
Ash’s brows furrowed slightly.
"What about the funds from the Association? Isn’t there supposed to be support for institutions like this?" he asked, although a part of him already knew the answer.
"They stopped coming a few years ago," she said quietly. "Ever since the in-charge of this zone changed... everything stopped."
Her voice cracked with helplessness.
Ash didn’t say anything at first. But inside, something clenched. The cruelty of this world never failed to show itself. Even in corners as forgotten as this.
But there was no time to dwell on it now.
He placed one hand over the boy’s chest again, and slowly, deliberately, closed his eyes.
Soft-green and white light began to gather around his palm. Gentle, like moonlight on morning dew. Along his forearm, glowing runes etched themselves into visibility, circling in slow, pulsing patterns.
The spell {Life Mana Infusion} took shape.
Warm, soothing energy flowed from his palm into the child’s fragile body. But it wasn’t just simple healing—Ash was gently nourishing the damaged circuit, guiding the tangled energy pathways to untwist, to breathe again, to remember how they were supposed to flow.
Once the pathways regained stability, he moved to the next step.
A soft whisper escaped his lips.
" {Cell Mend} ."
This spell called upon the very nature of life itself. It wasn’t aggressive. It didn’t force. It guided, like sunlight coaxing a flower to bloom. The cells began to regenerate, restoring what had been damaged, rebuilding from the inside out.
The boy’s fingers slowly stopped trembling. His lips regained their natural color. The blue on his chest began to fade, inch by inch.
And then, a soft cough escaped his lips.
Another followed.
Finally, he took a long, deep breath—and his eyes fluttered open, confused but alive.
"Oh my god... he’s safe," the caretaker whispered, voice thick with emotion.
Tears rolled down her cheeks as she gripped Ash’s cloak, her voice trembling. "Thank you... thank you so much. I have no idea how to repay you... You saved him."
Ash didn’t speak for a moment. He simply looked down at the boy, the warm glow of mana still dancing across his fingertips.
But his heart felt oddly calm. The gentle warmth of life mana still danced across his fingers. For a brief moment, everything felt... peaceful.
Like he had done something right.
So this is what it feels like... helping someone, not for gain or survival, but simply because you can.
But his voice turned colder a moment later, serious once again.
"Can you tell me where the current in-charge of this area lives?"
****