God’s Tree

The morning sun rose slowly over the vast expanse of rugged terrain, its golden light washing over the rocky outcrops and sparse vegetation.

Argolaith blinked awake, stretching his sore muscles before pushing himself up from where he had slept.

Kaelred groaned as he sat up, rubbing his eyes. "That was a good meal last night, but damn, I feel like we walked a hundred miles in my sleep."

Argolaith smirked. "If only."

Kaelred cracked his neck, then grabbed his gear, brushing the dust off his clothes. "Let's get moving. The faster we reach the city, the sooner we can figure out where we actually are in this part of Morgoth."

Argolaith nodded, and they began their journey north once more.

Malakar, ever the silent shadow, followed unseen.

Hours passed as they trekked through the unfamiliar landscape.

The terrain shifted as they walked—the ground became rockier, and the winds carried a faint metallic scent.

Then, on the distant horizon, Argolaith squinted.

"…What is that?"

Kaelred followed his gaze, his eyes narrowing.

A flock of something moved in the sky, their dark forms silhouetted against the blazing sun.

At first, they looked like birds, their wings flapping in perfect rhythm, gliding across the sky in a predatory formation.

Kaelred shrugged. "Probably some kind of hawks or something."

Argolaith frowned. Something felt… off.

The way they moved.

The way the wind shifted as their wings cut through the air.

An uneasy tension settled in his gut.

Kaelred noticed Argolaith's expression. "You're thinking it's something worse?"

Argolaith exhaled slowly. "Yeah. I don't think those are birds."

Kaelred sighed, gripping his sword's hilt. "I was really hoping you wouldn't say that."

They kept walking, but their eyes never left the sky.

As the hours passed, the flock grew closer.

And then—

Kaelred stopped mid-step.

His entire body tensed.

"…Argolaith."

Argolaith's stomach dropped.

The creatures were close enough now that the sunlight gleamed off their bodies.

And what they had mistaken for feathers…

Were scales.

"…Those aren't birds," Kaelred muttered.

Argolaith's grip tightened on his sword.

No.

They weren't birds, They were wyverns. A flock of them dozens—if not more.

Argolaith cursed under his breath.

"Kaelred, we need to prepare—now."

Kaelred nodded, his expression grim. "This isn't just a few stragglers—we're looking at a full hunting pack."

Wyverns didn't travel in groups this large unless they were on a hunt.

And right now—

They were the prey.

Argolaith and Kaelred moved quickly, finding a rocky outcrop that would give them at least a slight advantage in defensive positioning.

They dropped their packs, quickly scanning their supplies.

Kaelred drew his sword, rolling his shoulders. "I've fought a wyvern before. But not a whole damn sky full of them."

Argolaith clenched his jaw. "We fight smart. We use the terrain, force them to land where we can counterattack."

Kaelred exhaled sharply. "And if they don't land?"

Argolaith's eyes darkened.

"…Then we make them."

Kaelred gave a sharp grin. "Now you're speaking my language."

Above them, the wyverns' screeches echoed through the sky.

The battle for survival was about to begin.

The afternoon sun hung high in the sky, its golden light casting long shadows over the rocky terrain.

The wyverns were getting closer.

Their scaled bodies gleamed under the sunlight, their razor-sharp claws reflecting streaks of silver as they cut through the wind.

Argolaith and Kaelred had spent the last hour strategizing, preparing for a battle where they'd be outnumbered, outmatched, and fighting against flying beasts.

But then—

They realized something was wrong.

The wyverns weren't coming for them.

They weren't angling toward the rocky outcrop or preparing to dive.

They were… passing over.

Kaelred squinted, his expression darkening. "They're not even looking at us."

Argolaith's eyes widened as the realization hit him.

"They're not hunting us."

Kaelred turned to him.

"They're heading somewhere else."

Argolaith nodded slowly. "And I think I know where."

They both turned their gaze toward the direction the wyverns were flying.

Toward the south.

Toward Gren.

Argolaith's stomach dropped.

Kaelred cursed. "They don't even know it's there."

Argolaith clenched his fists. "But we do."

They couldn't let them reach the city.

The Grendyles wouldn't stand a chance.

Not while they were trapped under the ancient formation, unable to properly defend themselves.

And Karthos?

Argolaith didn't know how strong Karthos really was, but something told him that if the wyverns got close, he wouldn't step in.

This was their battle.

And they couldn't afford to lose.

Kaelred met Argolaith's gaze.

"…Then we stop them here."

Argolaith took a deep breath. "Yeah."

Then—they ran.

Their feet slammed against the ground as they sprinted forward at full speed, closing the distance between them and the wyverns as fast as humanly possible.

Kaelred's breathing was steady, his focus razor-sharp. "We can't take them all at once."

"I know," Argolaith said. "We pick them off as they notice us."

Kaelred grinned. "I was hoping you'd say that."

The wind rushed past them, the roar of the wyverns growing louder and louder with every step.

And then—the first pair of wyverns noticed them.

The massive beasts let out shrieking roars, their wings beating furiously as they angled downward, changing course toward them.

Argolaith's grip tightened on his sword.

Kaelred exhaled.

"Here they come."

The battle had begun.

The air trembled with the thunderous beating of wings.

The shrieks of wyverns tore through the sky like a war cry, their gleaming claws and serrated teeth flashing as they descended upon Argolaith and Kaelred.

A lesser warrior might have frozen in fear at the sheer size of the beasts rushing toward them.

But Argolaith and Kaelred?

They charged forward.

Argolaith ran headfirst into the swarm, his sword gleaming in the light.

Kaelred followed at his side, his grip tightening on his weapon as they prepared for the inevitable clash.

"Alright, what's the plan?" Kaelred asked, grinning despite the danger.

Argolaith smirked. "I'm going into the sky."

Kaelred blinked.

"…What."

Before he could process the words, Argolaith activated a rune from his ring.

A deep pulse of energy surged from the enchanted band, activating a stored gravity rune.

Above them, one of the wyverns—one that had begun to dive—suddenly lurched downward.

Its body plummeted at a speed far beyond what it had intended, its shriek turning into a panicked roar as it spiraled toward the earth.

Argolaith took his chance.

And then—he jumped.

Kaelred's brain short-circuited.

"He what?!"

Before Kaelred could even process what he was seeing, Argolaith landed on the diving wyvern, sword in hand.

With a single clean, brutal strike, he severed its head.

Blood sprayed into the air as the beast's headless body continued its downward spiral, and before it even crashed into the ground—Argolaith jumped again.

Kaelred gawked.

"What the actual fuck did I just watch happen?"

Argolaith was now fighting in the sky.

Argolaith landed on another wyvern, using its momentum to propel himself higher into the air.

The creatures, sensing the impossible threat, began swarming around him, their screeches filled with both fury and confusion.

Argolaith grinned.

"Let's dance."

A second wyvern swooped in, its fangs bared, but Argolaith sidestepped on the back of his current mount, slashing across its wing joint as it passed.

The beast howled in pain, its flight faltering as it crashed toward the earth.

Another came from behind.

Argolaith spun mid-air, slamming his blade through its skull before using its body as a platform to leap toward another.

From the ground, Kaelred watched in stunned silence.

"I know he's a skilled fighter, but this?! Really? This?!"

Wyverns screeched as more of them descended, snapping their jaws in frustration.

Argolaith had turned their hunting dive into a slaughter.

Kaelred exhaled slowly.

"…It's best if I don't think about it."

The battle raged on for what felt like an eternity.

The sky was thick with the scent of blood, the earth below stained red as wyvern corpses piled across the battlefield.

Argolaith moved like a phantom, leaping from wyvern to wyvern, his sword carving through thick, scaled flesh as if it were paper.

Every time he felt fatigue creeping in, he reached into his storage ring, pulling out an elixir and downing it in one motion before slicing through the next foe.

His stamina never wavered.

His mind raced as he fought.

What could he do with all of these corpses?

What parts would be the most valuable?

How much could he make if they sold them?

But then—another thought hit him.

He didn't even know how the world's currency worked.

He had never needed to buy anything before.

Everything he owned, he had either stolen, created, or found in the Forsaken Forest.

Argolaith's brows furrowed as he dodged a snapping wyvern jaw, slicing off its wing mid-flightbefore jumping to the next one.

He'd have to ask Kaelred about that later.

For now—the battle was finally reaching its end.

On the battlefield below, Kaelred stood among the fallen, his sword slick with blood.

The wyverns that plummeted from the sky in their dying moments had not all died on impact—and Kaelred had made sure to finish the job.

Each labored breath he took was filled with the scent of copper and sweat.

He kicked over the corpse of a wyvern to inspect the damage Argolaith had inflicted.

"Damn," Kaelred muttered. "Some of these things didn't even have time to fight back."

He looked up at Argolaith, who was still fighting in the sky, his body drenched in dark crimson, moving like a reaper of beasts.

Kaelred sighed, shaking his head.

"What are we even going to do with all of these corpses?"

Then, a thought.

"Well, we can probably just sell them."

His eyes drifted over the battlefield, counting the number of fallen wyverns.

If they sold the scales, the fangs, the claws, and the wings—they could make a fortune.

Kaelred exhaled, glancing back up.

"First, we have to figure out how the hell you're getting down."

Argolaith's breath steadied, his body covered in wyvern blood, the battle finally nearing its conclusion.

The last remaining wyverns, realizing their numbers had been cut down to almost nothing, began to retreat, screeching in panic.

But Argolaith didn't chase them.

Because now—he had a problem.

His eyes scanned the battlefield below.

The ground was far, far below.

And he had no way to fly.

"…Shit."

He could feel Kaelred's eyes on him.

Argolaith sighed. How the hell was he going to