God’s Tree

Every line of ancient text Argolaith had copied was a stepping stone to the power he craved, and every carefully rendered diagram was a testament to his unwavering resolve.

For days he had pored over the ruins' secrets—learning the forgotten methods of rune smithing, deciphering alchemical recipes that promised potent elixirs.

And mapping the intricate arrays that the ancients had once used to harness the raw energies of Morgoth.

Yet even as he delved deeper into these mysteries, a low, unceasing rumble beneath the ruined stones reminded him that time was not on his side.

Outside, the primordial beast—the guardian of the mountain's ancient legacy—advanced steadily toward the sanctum of knowledge.

Its presence an ever-ominous reminder of the danger that lurked beyond the crumbling walls.

Its thunderous footsteps shook the very foundations of the mountain, and every so often, a bone-chilling roar would pierce the stillness of the night, sending shivers cascading down Argolaith's spine.

Still, in that hallowed space of ancient wisdom, he focused on absorbing every secret written in stone.

The power contained in those texts, he knew, would be his key not only to surviving the trials ahead but to unlocking the magic of his Five Trees.

In these ancient writings lay the means to overcome the limits of mortal flesh and spirit.

As dawn's pale light crept over the horizon, Argolaith rose from his makeshift study with a renewed sense of purpose.

Carefully, he rolled up the fragile scrolls and meticulously compiled notes that he had produced during the long night.

Each page was then secured back into his storage ring, a repository of knowledge as much as a lifeline against the harsh realities outside.

Despite the biting chill that seeped into his bones, the warmth of the ancient wisdom stirred a fire within him—a flame that no cold could ever extinguish.

"Today," he whispered to himself as he stepped out into the emerging light, "I shall harness these secrets and forge a path to my destiny. My Five Trees await, and with them, the magic that will change everything."

His voice, though soft, was resolute—a pledge to the legacy of his forebears and a promise to himself.

Thus, with the legacy of ancient lore etched deep into his soul and the ever-present threat of the approaching primordial beast echoing in his ears, Argolaith began his journey anew.

Every step he took from the ruins was a step toward the ultimate trial—a final test of body, mind, and spirit on the path to the fabled power of the Five Trees.

The mountain loomed before him, its jagged peaks shrouded in mystery and peril, yet he moved forward with steady determination, the ancient texts his guide and his shield.

For Argolaith, the ancient knowledge was more than mere words on stone—it was the key to unlocking the power within himself.

The promise of transformation that would enable him to stand against the encroaching darkness and claim his rightful place among those chosen by destiny.

In the silent majesty of the ruins, amid the whispered legends of forgotten gods and the spectral echoes of a lost civilization, he resolved to learn, to master, and ultimately to transcend.

As the rising sun gilded the snowy peaks in golden light, Argolaith set forth from the ruins—his mind alive with the secrets of the ancients and his heart steeled against the trials yet to come.

The mountain, with all its mysteries and monstrous guardians, awaited him.

And he, Argolaith—the seeker, the scholar, the warrior, would not rest until he had unraveled its secrets and claimed the magic that would define his destiny.

It was on that fateful morning, as the sun broke fully over the mountain's summit, that Argolaith met with Kaelred, In the quiet corridors of the ruins.

Their paths had intertwined as they exchanged a few measured words about the wisdom of the ancients and the importance of mastering rune arrays.

Now, standing together at the threshold of the plateau, both warriors sensed that a greater challenge was at hand.

"Come on, Kaelred—it's time to fight that guardian of a primordial beast," Argolaith said, his voice carrying both determination and a hint of apprehension.

The words were barely audible over the distant rumble of the approaching enemy, but they struck a chord of resolve in both men.

Without delay, the two set out together, their swords unsheathed and their eyes fixed on the horizon.

They had no magic at their disposal—only the honed steel of their blades and the strength of their will.

Their only recourse was to rely on the techniques of mortal combat, for the trials of the mountain demanded physical prowess as much as they demanded wisdom.

And so, side by side, they began their fated descent from the sanctuary of the ruins toward the battlefield that lay across the plateau.

The first signs of the impending clash were subtle: the ground beneath their feet began to tremble.

The air grew heavy with the scent of ozone and ancient earth, and a low, mournful howl echoed in the distance.

As they advanced, the plateau—once a quiet repository of forgotten lore—transformed into an arena of raw, unbridled energy.

The very stones seemed to pulse with life, and the silence that had so long reigned was shattered by the growing cacophony of clashing metal and roars of combat.

The primordial guardian emerged at last—a titanic creature of living nightmare, towering over the plateau at nearly a hundred and fifty feet.

It stood on four massive legs, its body covered in scales that glowed dimly with a distinct green light.

Two enormous heads, each with eyes burning like coals of black fire, surveyed the battlefield.

Two sets of colossal wings—each spanning hundreds of feet—stretched outward, casting immense shadows that seemed to swallow light itself.

Its skin was encrusted with shimmering deposits of Orichalcum and Adamantite, reflecting the sunrise in dazzling arrays of gold and obsidian.

Every step it took shook the mountain, and as it moved, the ground itself appeared to be reshaped, as though the creature's will could alter the very fabric of the mountain.

Without hesitation, the beast charged. Its roar split the air as it surged forward, its every movement calculated to crush anything in its path.

Argolaith and Kaelred exchanged a brief look—a silent pact of unity forged in the crucible of imminent death—and then rushed to meet the oncoming threat.

The clash was immediate and overwhelming. The beast's first assault was a blur of snapping jaws and crushing limbs.

Its massive tail lashed out, trailing barbed spikes that glinted ominously in the early light.

Argolaith, with his lean build and swift reflexes, dodged nimbly to the left, narrowly avoiding a swipe that would have shattered his shield.

Kaelred, ever the stalwart companion, parried a blow aimed at his midsection with his broad sword, sparks flying as cold metal met the creature's scaly hide.

For hours, the battle raged on. The plateau became a maelstrom of blood, sweat, and clashing steel.

Argolaith and Kaelred fought in tandem, their movements synchronizing with an almost preternatural understanding.

They advanced and retreated as one, covering each other's flanks against the relentless onslaught of the primordial guardian.

The beast's roars were deafening, and its immense bulk was nearly overwhelming. Each time its massive clawed foot slammed into the ground, the shockwave threatened to hurl them off their feet.

Yet, driven by desperation and the promise of ancient knowledge, the two warriors refused to yield.

During the initial hours of combat, Argolaith managed to land several glancing blows on the beast's side, each strike drawing forth a pained bellow from the guardian.

But every successful hit was met with an even more vicious counter—its spiked tail or enormous claws crashing down with the force of a falling boulder.

Kaelred, too, suffered injuries. A deep gash along his arm, a bruise that soon spread across his cheek, and a torn piece of cloth from his armor bore witness to the relentless ferocity of the guardian.

As the sun climbed higher, the battle took on a nightmarish quality. The relentless melee stretched on, the minutes turning into hours as the duo struggled to hold their ground.

Every time the beast reared up, its twin heads swiveling with predatory intent, Argolaith and Kaelred would counter with a flurry of strikes aimed at its vulnerable underbelly.

Their swords—gleaming silver in the daylight—sang a mournful dirge as they clashed against impenetrable scales, sending showers of sparks into the air.

At one point, as the beast reared back to deliver a crushing blow, Argolaith found himself pinned against a shattered column of stone.

The creature's enormous claw descended with brutal speed, and for a split second, it seemed as if the world had slowed to a halt.

But then, Kaelred intervened. With a fierce cry, he leaped between Argolaith and the beast's attack, his sword intercepting the lethal strike and diverting its force.

The impact sent Kaelred staggering, blood trickling from a cut on his temple, but the intervention saved Argolaith from certain death.

"Keep fighting!" Argolaith bellowed, using the brief respite to gather his strength. "We must hold it off until we can find its weakness!"

For what seemed like an eternity, the battle continued. As the day wore on, the warriors grew battered and bloodied.

Their limbs trembled with exhaustion, every muscle aching from constant exertion. But they refused to yield.

Between moments of frantic combat, they would retreat behind fallen stones and shattered walls, catching their breath and tending to their wounds with whatever supplies they had.

In these fleeting moments, the duo exchanged brief, terse words of encouragement.

"Argolaith—don't let up!" Kaelred would shout between labored breaths, his eyes blazing with a fierce determination despite the pain.

"I'm with you, Kaelred! We'll see this through!" Argolaith would reply, his own voice raw but resolute.

Night began to fall, and the plateau was bathed in the eerie glow of a blood-red sunset. The primordial guardian, though wounded, was far from defeated.

Its roars echoed under the crimson sky as it unleashed a final, desperate barrage of attacks.