Giant trees ringed the kingdom.

  These weren’t deridum trees like I was used to or the swordfruit trees that had helped me in a pinch during my first day in Vizhima.

  These were of a different kind: massive, pale, and stout of trunk and branches. Large enough that two full-grown men could walk comfortably side by side along its branches.

  Green leaves swayed in the summer breeze, contrasting nicely with the grey hues of the trunks. A few of the leaves shimmered with a golden haze, probably in anticipation of fall. Natural inlets popped up at intervals in the trunks. No, that wasn’t right . . .

  The inlets were definitely man-made and came in various sizes—some the height of doors, others the width of windows. Vine-based bridges, twined among the branches, allowed transport between the trees. The Wood Elves hadn’t hollowed out the trees because they liked the aesthetic. They actually lived and conducted business in them.

  Each tree was, therefore, a garrison and wall, a fort and home all by itself. Orange butterflies fluttered around the branches, turning the scenery even more serene.

  “Incredible,” I couldn’t help but say.

  Medekeine tried to offer his usual insults but couldn’t come up with a retort.

  “You can repeat that,” Seeker said, spurring his reindeer along. “Few kingdoms in this world can hope to match the glory of Nyneveh. The trees here are as ancient as Vizhima itself.”

  [Identify] seemed to concur, what with its description:

  Monarch Tree.

  Native to Dreadwood. An ancient specimen held in high regard among the Wood Elves. It seldom grows in regions outside the forest.

  I could see why. Each root of the monarch tree was a fortress all by itself. They stood equally as stout as the branches in places where they surged from the ground, creating a dense and impenetrable barrier across the undergrowth.

  Passage was granted via large gates at the base of the largest tree, which served as the main entrance to the Wood King’s hallowed realm. Sentries kept watch on both sides of the gates and high up in the trees. They nodded at Seeker’s party as we passed, remaining alert despite their claims of peace.

  The interior of the monarch tree looked no different from my imagination of a tree home, with smooth wooden walls, furniture that grew out of the surroundings, and old dusty smells. Entire flight of stairs, all made of wood, blossomed from one region of the tree room to another. We bypassed them to enter a guard station for preliminary questioning.

  Kajal hummed under her breath. “This is no mere woodwork or enchantment. Someone created most of this with an affinity.”

  “Generosity?” I asked.

  “I can’t think of anything else. It seems to be the doing of a Herald or an Adamant, at least.”

  “Don’t think too much of it,” Seeker said, revealing without shame that he had been eavesdropping on our conversation. “We only need to nurture the monarch trees to get them to do our bidding.”

  “Someone made it that way,” Kajal replied and said nothing else.

  The Wood Elves were meticulous in their interview. Kajal was ordered to submit a seal from the guildmasters and answer questions about our experiences during travel. She handled the query with ease, as was her manner.

  Beyond the tree wall, Nyneveh proper awaited, and I lost my breath for a few seconds at the sight of the kingdom.

  Everything seemed so green, and bright, and colorful.

  A luxurious meadow stretched as far as the eye could see in the area ringed by the trees. It featured clusters of shorter trees and courtyards hewn out of polished, white stone. Fountains sparkled every tenth step of the way, coursing from springs that surged beneath the ground.

  A few of the white stone structures seemed to be residential buildings, but the majority of Wood Elves lived in tree huts built into the ring. The system of vine-based bridges continued here, creating a network of gangways high up and low to the ground that the Wood Elves traversed.

  Reindeers pastured in fields when they weren’t working, isolated by stone walls that indicated their pens. Orchards sprouted around the meadow at intervals, featuring all kinds of fruit.

  Seeker carelessly plucked an apple from one orchard as we passed and offered it to Kajal. “For you, fair lady.”

  Kajal rolled her eyes. “I’m pretty sure you can see that I am neither fair nor lady-like.”

  “The sentiment remains. We may have gone at each other’s throats the first time we met, but you’re guests of the Wood King now.” He bit into the apple when she rejected him again.

  I finally found my voice. “I didn’t expect a kingdom like this to exist in Dreadwood.”

  The elf maiden with a sharp tongue smirked. “Your kind are the barbarians, not us.”

  “To the Light Elves,” Medekeine said, “you are both barbarians.”

  The Wood Elves glared at his comment. Seeker simply laughed.

  We continued past the lush fields, down a path of cobblestones that seemed incapable of wear. A couple of lingering Wood Elves performed double takes as they saw us. Word soon spread throughout the kingdom of the strangers in the hallowed realm. In no time at all, a sizable group of bystanders gathered around us. They murmured among themselves, pointing at Div, Kajal, and Medekeine.

  The dwarf took umbrage with that. “One would think that your people have never seen the dwarrowfolk before.”

  “One would be right,” Viper Tongue Elf-maiden said. “I certainly didn’t expect your kind to be so . . . small.”

  “Do not speak to me, wench.”

  “The name’s Svani. And, may I share the reason why they stare at you so much?” She chuckled aloud. “‘Where is his beard?’ That’s what they’re saying.”

  I didn’t need to look at Medekeine to tell that his expression had darkened.

  We stopped in front of a dwarf tree that stood like a centerpiece in the middle of a meadow. I recognized its throne-like structure, gnarly trunk, and crown of vines instantly.

  A World Shrine—of the Greater variety.

  This one looked a little bigger than I remembered from Harkonean. Back then, over a month ago, I had sat in the shrine and started my journey to Ascension. I’d probably die before I reached level 100, but I’d outdone myself by coming within thirty percent of the mark. Beyond level 100 awaited Ascension and the rank of Herald, but that was a degree of power that I couldn’t even wrap my head around—not that I’d ever admit it to Paz.

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  A simple mansion stood behind the World Shrine, cut out of the same white stone as the rest of the structures in Nyneveh. An elf emerged from the sole exit of the mansion, barefoot and dressed in long, flowing robes.

  Golden power spilled out of him, invisible to the naked eye but not to my [Insight] perk. All of the elves who accompanied us fell to their knees, including Seeker’s party who alighted from their mounts.

  I didn’t need a skill to confirm his identity. The golden aura was proof enough. But, just in case . . .

  [Identify].

  A [System] screen appeared:

  Beast Rider LVL 53.

  My god. An actual gold ranker. Only the second one I’d ever met in Vizhima.

  The gap between Iron and Silver had been pretty steep, but it always seemed like a divide that could be surmounted. Byron was terrifying to face in battle, but I’d also survived two encounters with him by relying on cunning.

  The same could not be said about the gulf between Silver and Gold. Now that I had more combat experience, I could estimate the difference in raw power, not levels, between my opponents and me. If the Samurai of Skeelie dwarfed me like a great wall of stone, the Wood King was the fucking Colossus of Rhodes.

  He smiled, and I almost felt compelled to kneel in his presence. My knees actually bent a little: an action that caused me no small alarm. This was a demi-god, after all. One nearly halfway up the path of Ascension.

  The Wood King wore his red hair in a neck-length mullet with a crown of actual thorns placed on his head. He looked both ancient and young at the same time, courtesy of wide hazel eyes set deep in his sockets. He permitted the Wood Elves to rise with a wave of his hand and smiled kindly at us.

  “Now this is a sight that I haven’t seen in years,” he said in a honeyed voice. “Elves, humans, and dwarves all arrayed together. It calls for a feast, don’t you think?”

  Kajal bowed. “Your Highness. We have arrived from Skeelie—”

  The Wood King wagged his finger. “That can wait. Firstly . . .” He retrieved a black orb from his inventory. “We don’t usually get visitors from outside Dreadwood, but that doesn’t change the fact that there are no secrets in Nyneveh.”

  I recognized the black orb in his hand: A viewing stone. Nana had used one to track my level. This stone was, however, of the Grand class, according to [Identify].

  Kajal grimaced.

  This was bad. If I touched the stone, they would learn my affinity. And, that could prove an unpleasant affair, considering the other Fear user that ran rampant in Dreadwood. There was also the bit about my [Migrant Soul] trait to be worried about. Nothing good would come out of this.

  Medekeine glared at the viewing stone in the Wood King’s hand. “I decline.”

  “I must insist,” the Wood King said.

  “And, I ignore your insistence. Is this what you consider hospitality among the elves? We are here to do business, not win your friendship.”

  A few of the gathered Wood Elves hissed at his tone.

  The Wood King maintained a kind smile. “Ah. The brashness of the dwarrowfolk. Alas, without honesty, there can be no trade.”

  “I don’t mind leaving. Your people seem to think that there is no war after all.”

  “Your Highness,” Kajal interjected. “I am the leader of this envoy. While I understand your reasons for doing so, you must understand why rankers vehemently oppose attempts to unravel their secrets.”

  “This is a viewing stone of the Grand tier,” the Wood King countered. “While its ability to peer into one’s status is expanded, it still cannot unveil traits or techniques. Surely, this is not an extreme request, is it, for your safe passage through Dreadwood?”

  That sounded like a threat.

  Kajal thought so too because she gave in with a sigh. “It is your domain.”

  She stepped up to the Wood King and placed her hand on the viewing stone.

  Kajal Undreki

  Race: Human

  Level: 31

  Class: Monk

  Affinity: Empathy

  VP: 77/77

  MP: 89/91

  Attributes:

  STR 30, PER 22, END 20, DEX 5

  INT 2, WIL 10, V.F 3, MGK 10

  Free Stat Points: 0

  The Wood King smiled. “It is rare for a fighter to raise Magicka over Vital Force. But, I’m sure you have your reasons. And, you, master dwarf?”

  “Do it,” Kajal said.

  Medekeine glowered like he had been force-fed ghost peppers. Eventually, he acquiesced.

  Medekeine of the Tinfolk

  Race: Dwarf

  Level: 38

  Class: Shifter

  Affinity: Confusion

  VP: 117/117

  MP: 87/87

  Attributes:

  STR 30, PER 20, END 30, DEX 5

  INT 4, WIL 10, V.F 16, MGK 1

  Free Stat Points: 0

  “Stalwart as expected,” the Wood King said, “from a dwarf.” He passed over the Bound Div and focused on me. “Now for you, my Dark Elf friend.”

  I reached for the viewing stone—this was so dangerous—and stopped midway. “Friend?”

  “Are we not?”

  “Do Wood Elves isolate their friends from communicating with them?”

  The Wood King cocked his head. “Ah. You must be speaking about the unfortunate circumstances of Harkonean.”

  “Is that what you call it,” I hissed, “when you destroy the roads leading from my village?”

  “Damien . . .” Kajal said.

  “What about the aid that the Harkon no doubt requested,” I continued, “in the fight against the goblins? Did you lift a finger to improve their chances?”

  “There is no war,” the Wood King said.

  “The goblins are crucifying your people in the forest!”

  A few of the Hinduli? around us blanched.

  “There is no war,” the Wood King repeated. A hint of irritation crossed his features. “I slew the Goblin Prince in the last invasion with these very hands. Those stragglers you see, playing at being a horde, will be annihilated the instant the host of Nyneveh rides forth.”

  “Your Highness,” I said, making sure to inject every bit of sarcasm into the title, “there are a lot of fallacies present in your comments.”

  The Wood King’s irritation deepened into a scowl. “You presume to know more about the horde than I do?”

  “I presume to know a faulty argument when I hear it. While you wait for the opportune moment to strike, a window to save lives is thrown to the wolves. You failed your people.”

  “I failed no one. The average Wood Elf is worth more than twenty goblins. We will not fall.”

  “And yet, my village—”

  “Your village?” the Wood King smirked. “The Harkon indeed attempted to create a coalition, but she needed the backing of the other chieftains to succeed. Alas, Harkonean has made enemies of all its neighbors—”

  “Are you being serious, right now? You’re playing petty politics while an enemy runs around your house with fire and oil. In your bid to get the goblins to do your dirty work for you, you destroyed not just Harkonean, but also the Hinduli? village of Nybala!”

  Medekeine chuckled: an odd sound in the silence of the gathering.

  The Wood King bared his teeth. “Nybala’s destruction was no fault of ours. The loss of elven lives wound me, but the other villages will hold until Nyneveh concludes preparations.” He spread his arms. “Even during the last invasion, not a single blade of grass was harmed here in my domain. The wild god protects us.”

  “The wild god doesn’t care.”

  The Wood King stiffened and returned the viewing stone to his inventory. “We will adjourn our discussion here. Seeker, see to it that the others are provided with rest and bedding. The Dark Elf, however, must be thrown in jail. See that he remains there until he returns to his senses.”

  Seeker gleefully placed his odachi against my throat.

  “What? No!” Kajal said. “I won’t stand for this!”

  But, the Wood King didn't reply, retreating into his mansion.

  “Consider this mercy,” Seeker said into my ear. “The last time a Dark Elf spoke out of turn in Nyneveh, they returned home saturated with poison.”

  The rest of his party surrounded me, pulling weapons from their inventories. Kajal tried to intervene, but the bystanders blocked her path.

  I wasn’t particularly worried. This wasn’t the best outcome, all things considered. But, I’d given the Wood King a piece of my mind and avoided revealing my affinity in the process.

  I extended my hands to Seeker and offered a wink. “Be gentle.”