An elf, Celia, sat with her back leaning against the Tree of Knowledge. The tree was huge, large enough to make the area underneath its branches and leaves as dark as night. Despite that, Celia had no problem reading the book in her hands. As she was reading, her nose twitched, and her brow furrowed. She snapped her book shut and stood up, grabbing the spear that was on the ground beside her. Something was wrong. “Yvainne, does everything seem normal?”

A feminine voice called out from above. “There seems to be a commotion going on at the village. Shall we go check it out?”

“The three of you stay,” Celia said and stood up. She placed her book down where she had been sitting. “I’ll investigate.”

“If something fun’s going on, don’t leave us out of it,” a different voice said, also coming from above.

“We’re on duty right now,” Celia said and double-checked her gear. There was a bow strapped to her back, and there was a quiver made from large leaves attached to her waist. She was wearing armor made of polished wood that looked as if it had been molded to fit her body. “We’re not supposed to be having fun.”

Celia ignored the grumblings of her subordinates and headed towards the village. She wasn’t worried about adventurers coming to steal Fruits of Knowledge, not with her companions guarding the tree. Though protecting the village was outside of the duties of the patrol, Celia still felt like she had to be there. Her grandmother, the leader of the elves, was getting old, and sometimes, wrong decisions would be made—wrong in Celia’s opinion, at least.

When Celia arrived at the source of the commotion, she figured out why her nose had wrinkled earlier. The source was the undead legion, carrying their foul stench and polluted mana. The elves and undead seemed to be arguing with one another, and Celia readied her spear while making her way to the entrance of the village where her grandmother was having a heated argument with a skeleton garbed in expensive armor.

“Yes, we’re sure it’s here. If it wasn’t here, we wouldn’t be here, alright?” the skeleton asked. Although it didn’t have any facial features, to Celia, it looked exasperated. She knew how it felt; sometimes, her grandmother could be as stubborn as a mule—well, most of the time, not just some. The skeleton’s eye sockets lit up—literally, two flashes of blue lights winked in and out of existence—upon seeing Celia. “Ah! At last, someone else who looks like she’s in charge.”

“What’s the problem?” Celia asked. Although she didn’t like the undead, she knew how beneficial they were to the forest. They kept the humans and demons at bay, acting as the first line of defense. If not for their existence, the humans and demons would be pestering the elves nonstop.

“Celia, go back to the tree,” Celia’s grandmother said. “The undead are trying to distract us to steal Fruits of Knowledge. This wouldn’t be the first time they’ve done something like this.”

“No, no,” the armored skeleton said. “Nonsense. What happened two centuries ago was planned by one of our officers. After the Corrupted One found out about what happened, she had him dismembered. Justice has already been taken care of for you. Not only that, but the Corrupted One also strictly forbade us from causing elves any trouble, and although we might be dead, we’re still afraid of the consequences of disobeying her.”

Celia’s grandmother snorted, and Celia gently nudged the old lady to the side, taking the old lady’s place in front of the skeleton. Unlike her grandmother, Celia knew how to deal with the undead. She had to take on a strong position. “I won’t ask again. What’s the problem?”

“Well,” the skeleton said and scratched his skull. “It goes like this, you see. A particularly brave elf—or maybe a group of brave elves—decided to pay a visit to the graveyard. Normally, that wouldn’t be an issue; we undead don’t really retaliate for things like that, but this time, those elves took one of our lich’s phylacteries. We’re not here to cause any trouble; we just want the phylactery back.”

Celia frowned. “You expect me to believe a few elves managed to steal a lich’s phylactery? If a phylactery could be stolen that easily, liches wouldn’t be such a menace.”

“At the time, the lich was asleep,” the skeleton said. “He just recently woke up and panicked when he discovered his phylactery was missing. There was a big hoo-ha, and someone pointed out he could just search for it with magic. Lo and behold, the magic told him the phylactery was in this very village.” The skeleton gestured around with its bony arms. “We’re not asking for much. Just return the phylactery to us.”

Celia frowned. A lich’s phylactery was where its soul was stored. As long as it wasn’t destroyed, a lich could live forever. It was their most guarded possession, yet somehow, it had ended up in their village. Perhaps a group of kids had stumbled upon it while playing and brought it back. There were also the adolescents who believed they were invincible and dared each other to do stupid things. Stealing a lich’s phylactery was a stupid thing, making it something they would dare each other to do. The adults wouldn’t touch a lich’s phylactery unless it was to destroy it. Since the undead and elves were technically allies in the loosest of senses, the undead requesting for the phylactery back didn’t overstep their bounds. Celia turned towards her grandmother. “You think the undead are lying?”

Celia’s grandmother sneered. “They’re either lying to trick us into letting them into our village, or they’re telling the truth but planted the phylactery in our village themselves. Either way, you should return to guard the tree. The fruits are the only valuable thing they’d want from us.”

It was true. Elves weren’t materialistic. The most valuable items Celia had were her books, but even those were cheap and worth less than a few leaves. If the skeletons were here to raid them, the only thing of value the elves had were the Fruits of Knowledge. “Feel free to search the village,” Celia said, nodding at the skeleton leader. “Once you find your phylactery, leave at once. If this is a ploy to steal our fruits, I don’t mind paying a visit to the dragon matriarch to mediate between us.”

“No need for that,” the skeleton said. “We’re not here for your Fruits of Knowledge. Cross my heart and hope to die.”

Celia rolled her eyes. As if the oath meant anything to skeletons who were already dead. “Julie, Claudia, Nona, let’s go. We’ll make sure no one approaches the Tree of Knowledge.”

Three elves, the remaining members of the patrol, followed after Celia, heading towards the Tree of Knowledge behind the village. With that, there were seven elves guarding the tree. Celia climbed to the very top, positioning herself in the highest position. From there, she could see miles in every direction—which was mostly a sea of green treetops. Perhaps the skeletons really were just there to retrieve a phylactery. Over half an hour passed, and there wasn’t the slightest hint of any intruders. Right when Celia was debating on whether or not to fetch her book, someone ran into the vicinity of the great tree. It was an elf.

“The skeletons! They’re causing trouble!”

Celia frowned and made her way down from the tree. It was tall, but she let gravity do most of the work for her, occasionally pushing at a few branches to guide herself. “What kind of trouble?”

The messenger elf’s face was red, and she was panting, presumably from running over. “They stole our undergarments!”

Celia froze. “What?”

“The skeletons used the excuse of looking for the phylactery and searched our homes,” the elf said while gasping. “We didn’t think much of it since there’s nothing valuable for them to take, but once they were done, they revealed they had stolen our undergarments! They put our clothes in their eye sockets and rib cages to sneak them out of our houses without us noticing! They called us fools, saying human and demon perverts paid good money for elven lingerie. They even stole our men’s boxers; apparently, there are female perverts out there as well!”

“None of you tried to stop them?” Julie asked. The patrol members had dropped down from the tree as well. “My deceased husband made most of my undergarments for me!” Before the other elves could stop her, she was already running towards the village.

“Julie, wait!” Claudia shouted. “Your deceased husband made most of my undergarments too! Let me help you!”

Everyone turned to stare at Claudia. She blushed. “He was a good tailor; don’t judge me.” With that, she sprinted towards the village as well, carrying a wooden spear.

Celia’s brow furrowed. The skeletons stealing elven undergarments wasn’t that serious of an issue. If anything, it seemed like a childish prank. The patrol’s main focus was defending the Tree of Knowledge. Julie and Claudia, along with the elders in the village, were enough to deal with the skeletons. “Did my grandmother send you here to alert us?”

The elf woman was still staring in the direction the two patrol members had sprinted. She turned back to Celia upon hearing her words. “Yes,” she said. “The elder said things might get noisy, but no matter what, you have to defend the tree.”

Celia nodded. She wasn’t worried about calling Julie and Claudia back; the elders would force them to return sooner or later. After delivering the message, the messenger elf headed towards the village, and Celia went back up the tree, not forgetting to bring her book with her this time. As the captain of the patrol, it was her duty to guard the Tree of Knowledge, not hunt down undergarment thieves. She positioned herself once again at the very top, taking a glance around. In the village’s direction, there were a few shaking trees, signs of combat. Other than that, the forest was peaceful. A few minutes later, however, another messenger elf came running into the vicinity.

“Celia! Your grandmother is greatly disappointed in you!”

Celia blinked hard before sliding down from the tree. She had just cracked open her book since it seemed like there weren’t any issues; how did her grandmother know she was about to slack off? “What happened?”

“The skeletons have stolen some Fruits of Knowledge!”

“What!?”

“That’s impossible!”

Four shocked voices rang out from above, and the rest of the patrol plopped down onto the ground. Celia furrowed her brow. “We were here this whole time, and not a single branch on this tree has been touched.”

“The skeletons are leaving,” the messenger elf said. “They’ve stolen our undergarments and our fruits. Your grandmother has seen the fruits with her own eyes. It’s impossible for her to be mistaken!”

Celia frowned. There was something suspicious about this. “All of you, go to the village and find out what’s going on. Recover the lost fruits,” she said. “I suspect there’s some foul play. I’ll wait right here and keep an eye on the tree.”

The patrol members and the messenger elf left, leaving Celia to defend the tree by herself. She climbed to the top and readied her bow, keeping an arrow in her right hand, waiting to shoot at any intruder. It was impossible to see the ground directly below the Tree of Knowledge from its peak, but with her magic, she was able to feel anything the tree felt. It drained her mana, but she judged she’d have enough for her to keep watch until the rest of the patrol returned. Usually, the patrol members took turns communicating with the great tree like this, which is why they claimed it was impossible for a fruit to have been stolen.

A few minutes passed by, and Celia raised her head. Something was approaching from the sky. It wasn’t a roc or a dragon, and it certainly wasn’t an ordinary bird. It was about the size of a human, and Celia could barely make out spiked leaves dangling from it. Was it the product of a dryad mating with a harpy? Celia frowned and raised her bow. Whatever it was, the airspace around the great tree was off limits. With her bow, she would show the strange creature why. Celia nocked an arrow and fired it as a warning. It flew up, avoiding the target but soaring close enough to serve as a warning. Once it was about to fall back down, a giant leaf bloomed from the arrow’s end, causing it to drift down harmlessly with the wind. It wouldn’t be good if an arrow shot into the sky as a warning randomly plunged to the ground and killed someone on accident.

The flying figure pretended like it hadn’t noticed the arrow even though it was fluttering down in front of its face. Celia frowned and readied another arrow. Since whatever it was that was up there wasn’t taking her seriously, perhaps it’d understand after she put a hole in its wing. Judging its direction and speed, Celia released an arrow. If the figure stayed its course, the arrow would pierce its wing. However, upon the arrow’s release, the figure tilted to the side, easily dodging the shot. Once again, the arrow grew a leaf and began its slow descent. Since the figure was paying attention to her, it’d be impossible for Celia to hit it unless it got close enough to where it couldn’t dodge the arrow in time. Of course, there was another way, and that was to shoot at where the figure would dodge. Celia’s hand reached into her quiver, and she withdrew three arrows, nocking them all at once. Whether the figure dodged right or left, she’d cut off both paths of its escape. The three arrows flew into the air, and the figure leaned back, standing upright in the sky, causing all three arrows to miss their target.

Celia was unperturbed and drew another three arrows out of her quiver. Like a machine, she fired the arrows, pulled more out, nocked them on her bow, and fired again, repeating the process until the sky was blanketed with them. A few of the arrows seemed like they were about to hit the figure, but a metal rod appeared out of nowhere, and the figure used it to block them. Celia reached into her quiver, but there were no more arrows. She put her bow down and narrowed her eyes. Even if the arrows couldn’t take down her target, the trap had already been set. She channeled her mana, and all the arrows in the sky—which were fluttering above the figure—rapidly grew vines and branches, forming a massive net. It closed around her target, trapping it and dragging it down from the sky.

Celia exhaled through her nose and strapped her bow to her back. It seemed like it was over. The iron rod materializing was its last trick. Without warning, the branch she was standing on sunk as if a heavy weight had been put on top of it. She turned around just in time to see a rapidly expanding shadow engulf her head and her body. Her world turned upside down, and she tumbled to the side in complete darkness. There was a clanking sound as her body collided into something. It felt like a pile of gold coins. Her clothes beneath her armor were getting wet as well from some unknown source of liquid. She took in a breath, but all she felt was her chest constricting. There was no oxygen or warmth in this place. She focused her mana into her wooden armor, and her right vambrace grew into a wooden spear. She picked it up and stabbed forward, trying to rip apart the bounds of whatever dimension she was trapped in, but each thrust was futile. Slowly, her movements became sluggish and drawn out. She closed her eyes—not that it made a difference. All she could do now was channel the mana in her body to survive in this harsh condition for as long as possible. Perhaps someone outside would save her.