The interior wasn’t all too dark. The magical glow of elven artifacts provided enough light that allowed Vincent to see even without his lamp. He also noticed that instead of the stone wall from the passageway, the inside of the vault was lined with bark. This could only mean one thing…

“Could it be that the vault is inside the world tree?!” Vincent gasped in surprise.

“That’s correct,” responded Yeriel. “The safest place is inside the world tree. Unless someone wants to commit blasphemy by destroying the world tree, everything inside is safe.”

Yeriel was busy storing the essential artifacts within her space bag. Unlike [Inventory], space bags were objects blessed with space magic. They function in the same way as [Inventory], but if they are damaged, their fragile space can tear and spill out its contents.

“Hrm.” Yeriel grimaced. She didn’t have enough room to store all the valuable artifacts. “I guess I’ll have to make multiple trips. On that note…” She removed the two daggers from her belt and exchanged it with another pair from a pedestal.

“What are those?” Vincent pointed and ask. He was looking at an ornate bow and a set of arrows that were glowing in the darkness.

“I was looking for that.” Yeriel excitedly skipped over and picked them up. “The bow of Selvyrus. Legend says that he used this bow granted by Goddess Luna to slay the cyclops that were invading from the north.”

Vincent felt envious as he watched Yeriel test out the string of the bow. He wanted to take some things for himself too, but there were two individuals here that could slay him with just a word. Instead, he was fascinated by the books hidden away in the corner of the treasury.

“Ah, those…” Yeriel ran over and skimmed over a few titles, “They are just epics of our legends and myths. They aren’t the highest priority right now.” She tossed them aside and resumed looting and gathering the valuables of the vault.

Princess Arya looked resigned as she weakly sat down, her fingers tracing over the painting of an older male elf. Vincent watched as her lips trembled and teardrops rained down from the corners of her eyes. He felt pity for the girl and approached her, wanting to comfort her.

“Are you okay?” He awkwardly asked. Of course, she wasn’t okay, but he didn’t know how to comfort a girl!

“*Sniff* Dost thou want to take a gander at mine own folly? What can I do but shed tears of regret? I cannot live nor can I die? What is mine life worth if’t be useless to humour mine kin?”

Vincent studied the helpless girl and sat down next to her. “I can’t empathize with you since I am not a royal nor have I lost everything. But I can say one thing.” He placed his hand over his heart, “Even if you think you have lost everything, remember that there is still someone that believes in you. That person is yourself. If you abandoned even yourself, then you will have truly lost everything.”

Princess Arya looked up at Vincent. Through her teary eyes, she managed to make out a calm youth that was a fraction of her age, yet who had more wisdom. She watched as he lightly reached over and patted her head.

“Even when you stop believing in yourself, I’ll believe in you. Once this is over, you can convince your people. I refuse to believe that the people willing to die for you will refuse to listen to your words. You can only do this if you’re alive. Live on. You must live on.” He urged her as he patted her head.

“Uuu~” Princess Arya didn’t know why but tears continued to flow down her cheeks, even stronger than before. She leaned on his shoulder and cried, letting out her resentment and pain that had been locked away for nearly the past two decades. Vincent sat there and silently patted her head.

“What are you doing to Princess Arya?” Yeriel finally came back after gathering the artifacts. She had exchanged her leather gear with a shinier set that looked like velvet. Something about the armor told him that this material was even stronger than steel despite its appearance.

“She’s been through a lot, let her rest a bit,” Vincent said as he felt her breathing calm down.

“We don’t have time for this. The longer the poison acts inside her, the weaker she will become. We have to act now while she can still perform the ceremony.” Yeriel reached behind her and pulled out a pendant, “Here, a small gift for your help.” Then she handed a horn over, “Also, use this once we’re outside.”

“What’s this?” Vincent asked, his mind trying to work out what kind of weapon it was.

“It’s a horn. You blow into it.” Yeriel picked up the princess, and they both left the vault.

“Wouldn’t a horn be the last thing we want to use?” argued Vincent.

“That would be the case if it weren’t for the fact that this artifact is the Horn of Faerin.” Yeriel said. “During Faerin’s rule, he made a pact with the treants of Emerald Forest. He was given three favors by the treants in exchange for saving their elder with a drop of sap from the world tree. Through the ages, we have used up two of those favors. The first time was when the cyclops from the north invaded Emerald Forest. The second time was to fight the Church of Light.”

“And this will be the final favor.” Vincent grasped the horn tightly and tucked it away. “What about this pendant?” Vincent asked.

“This artifact is our gift to you. Princess Arya, you wouldn’t mind that, would you?” Yeriel questioned.

“Go ahead.” Princess Arya assented after quick consideration.

“Then let me explain. Eleanora’s Tear is the name of that pendant. With it, it’ll allow you to absorb the wild mana better and purify it at a faster rate. It also functions as a container for refined mana. I can see that you’ve only started to unlock the first gate. With this, you’ll open it much faster.”

“The first gate?”

“That’s right, humans don’t refer to it that way.” Yeriel scratched her head in thought before saying, “Basically, it’ll help you break through the chains of mediocrity. You’ll be able to become stronger.”

“So that’s how it is.” Vincent then quickly wore the pendant, watching it glow with a blue hue in the lamplight.

“Then let’s go.”

The three of them quickly left the tunnel, once they reached the outside, Vincent stowed his lamp. He watched as Yeriel replaced the tiles at the base of the unicorn knight statue. Princess Arya regained her bearing and once more assumed a stoic face, albeit this time she was continually observing Vincent.

“The plan now is to use the horn to call the treants?” Vincent asked.

“That’s the plan. So I need you to go back to the city outskirts before blowing the horn.” Yeriel nodded.

“So you want me to create a distraction that will lead the church’s men away? I can do that, but are you sure the treants will listen to me?” He wasn’t even sure if they will come if he blew the horn.

“…” Yeriel looked perplexed before saying, “You’re right. We can’t take that risk.” Without another word, she took the Horn of Faerin from him and took a deep breath before placing her lips on the horn.

“BLUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU~!”

The siren-like noise brought chills to Vincent’s skin. The noise that followed the horn was a loud rustling in the trees as rumbling noises caused vibrations on the ground.

“The treants have awakened. Let’s go. The whole church should be coming this way.” Yeriel picked up Princess Arya and dashed away.

Meanwhile, Archbishop Lectival was busy worrying about the outcome of Paladin Arcturus’ group. He held a life crystal that was tied to Paladin Arcturus’ life force. Right now, the crystal had dimmed, and that did not bode well. Since then, he had moved the church to the site of the world tree and stood guard. On this particular night, he was awaiting news from the Pope when he heard a horn blow off in the distance.

“Archbishop Lectival, a war horn has just sounded from the direction of the royal palace. What should we do?” asked a templar.

Archbishop Lectival set down the dim life crystal and responded, “Send a detachment to investigate the site. I’ll have my men deploy around the basin of the world tree.” What he had feared had come. He had to accept that Paladin Arcturus had failed in his duty, and it was now up to him to prevent the dark elves from rising.

“Hurry!” Yeriel urgently whispered as they sprinted away from the palace walls. Vincent closely followed as well as he can, but it was hard to run in the dark, especially while navigating around the rubble. Somehow he still managed to do it.

Yeriel and Vincent retreated to a safe distance and watched as dozens of torches converged around the palace. The torches quickly scattered and dug all around the palace grounds.

“Since the plan has changed, we’re going to have to think on our feet.” Yeriel handed over Princess Arya. Vincent was surprised by the sudden burden, but when he received the girl, she felt as light as a woodland critter.

“What do we do then?” He asked as he adjusted the princess to a more comfortable position.

“I originally wanted you to lead them away from the world tree, but it seems they are smarter than I expected.” Yeriel watched as the templars stayed around the site of the ceremony. “The weaklings will have their hands full dealing with the treants coming in from the outskirts. I’ll draw the church templars away from the pedestal; you will bring the princess to perform the ceremony. Got it?”

“Understood.” Vincent nodded, and they quickly split up. Vincent hid in the dark as he slowly approached the location. The templars also knew that something was going to happen soon so they lit up the whole area before drawing their weapons.

Vincent arrived in position and as if right on cue, a handful of light arrows shot out from the darkness, instantly killing their targets.

“They’re attacking from the west! Move!” The templars picked up their blades and charged west towards Yeriel. She continued to shoot, each arrow impaling an unlucky fellow as they approached.

A few templars stayed behind, but after witnessing their brothers falling to the assailant in the dark, they angrily gripped their weapons and ran after them. They quickly checked to see how their fallen brothers were faring, but after confirming that they no longer drew breath, they followed after the main force.

“Now’s our chance,” Vincent whispered and began to gather mana. He felt the steady breath of the wind in the surroundings. With a flick of his wrist, the torches in the surroundings were blown out. Vincent didn’t wait another moment and dashed for the platform. It might be because Yeriel was an excellent distraction because Vincent and Princess Arya faced no obstruction on their way to the pedestal.

“Hurry, Princess. I’ll guard you while you perform the ceremony.” Vincent let down the Princess and drew his bow, prepared to defend her.

“…” Princess Arya stared at him for a moment longer before turning around. “With the Heavens as my witness and the Earth as my pledge. I have come to confirm the promise between both worlds…” She began to chant as she pulled out the Water of Life and deposited it into the basin.

*Woosh!*

A surge of wind blew off Vincent’s hood off as he stared up at the tree. The world tree began to glow with a golden light as mana began seeping out of it. The vibrant life mana caused a plethora of growth as the plants in the surrounding began to thrive. It was like rainfall after a long drought, the forest came alive and reveled in the abundant mana. Princess Arya was also the same, she closed her eyes and began to manipulate the mana, gathering it. However just at the moment…

*BOOM!*

“Guahh!” Vincent crumpled down in pain as a terrifying blast of dark mana spewed out the world tree. Princess Arya also knit her brows in concern and tried to break away from the connection.

“Kyaa!” A powerful blow knocked Princess Arya over.

“Did we fail?” Vincent weakly muttered as he crawled over to check if Princess Arya was alright.

“Kukukuku!” A sinister laugh echoed from beside them.

“Yeriel?” Vincent was puzzled. Wasn’t she busy distracting the templars?

“I’ve finally obtained it.” She chuckled as she reached out. A vacuum effect occurred as Vincent witnessed the dark mana being drawn into Yeriel.

“Damnit! We’re too late!” A few of the surviving templars hobbled back to the area. They looked like they had just returned from war.

“Young man! Stop her before it’s too late!” A bishop yelled out as he began to chant magic.

“What?” Vincent felt puzzled. His brain couldn’t process what’s happening, but what he could tell, was that Yeriel had hurt Princess Arya. “What are you doing?” Vincent got up and approached Yeriel, intending to get the answer out of her.

“Back off!” Yeriel sneered, and a burst of dark mana blew Princess Arya off the platform. “Be a good sheep and wait your turn to be slaughtered.”

“No!” A priest cried as the ominous dark mana gradually disappeared inside of Yeriel.

“Thaesis has decreed that evil shall be vanquished, Holy Smite!”

*Boom!*

A burst of light shot from the sky, burning away the hazy dark mana floating in the air. The beam of light then struck Yeriel, burning away a great deal of her armor. Even the elven armor cannot protect her from the spell of a holy archbishop.

“NOOOO!” Yeriel shrieked in anger. She had only managed to absorb three-quarters of the ominous mana. Someone had interrupted her at the crucial moment.

“Archbishop Lectival, you’re here!”

“Thank Thaesis. We’re saved.”

The templars cried in relief as an old man dressed in a set of white and gold approached. He was sandwiched on both sides by the elite templars of the church. They all glowed with magic that lit up the area as they walked.

“It seems I was too late.” Archbishop Lectival murmured.

“You’ve ruined all my work.” Yeriel looked crestfallen as she stood there, glaring daggers at the archbishop. “I’ll have your head for that.” She announced as a cocoon of darkness enveloped her.

“Child of the World Tree, you have fallen from Thaesis’ grace. Repent now, and you may still be saved.” Archbishop Lectival responded and began to gather his mana once more for another spell.

“Repent? Hahaha! Why should I repent?” She scoffed.

“Do you not fear the wrath of Thaesis?”

“Why should I fear Thaesis?” She began to chuckle creepily and reached into her bag and pulled out a white mask. When Vincent saw the mask, he thought he felt Aion’s Ring quiver slightly, but it might’ve just been his imagination. Vincent quietly peered over at the Church of Light’s group and saw their confused expressions. However, their archbishop was different. His eyes were stuck wide open, and his mouth opened and closed in astonishment.

“That can’t be… Can it?” Archbishop pointed at the mask.

“What do you think this is? Ha!” She laughed as she put on the mask.

“The mask of the Godslayer!” Archbishop lost his composure and roared out, “How can you be here?! Thaesis hear my plea! Send me your soldier in hopes that I vanquish this great evil from this land!” He lifted up a rosary while chanting. As soon as he finished, the rosary crumbled down into dust.

“You think an angel will save you? I’d like to see you try.” She laughed and watched as the night sky lit up like day time. The clouds in the sky parted as an angelic figure flew down from above. The white wings of the angel spread open like a cover of light as it descended. The odd happening around the world tree was witnessed by the soldiers of Northgard along with the scouts of the demon army in the north.

“Lord Reginald, something seems to be happening at the location of the world tree. Should we send a squad to scout it out?" A retainer asked the Grand Marshall.

“No, whatever happens, is not our problem.” The Grand Marshall answered. He could not afford to weaken his forces. “Put your men on standby, we might have a battle on our hands soon.”

“Understood, Sir!” The retainer saluted and hurriedly left the office.

“If the damned church had helped Valencia in her time of need, Valencia would’ve never fallen. Don’t expect a damn thing from me.” Grand Marshall Reginald cursed under his breath as he turned away from the window.

Elsewhere in the northern tundra, a hog rider rode into camp.

“Lord Xishol, the world tree has begun spewing out dark energy. There also seems to be the Church of Light at the base of the world tree.” The hobgoblin dismounted and kneeled as he relayed the information.

A pale-faced man sat on a throne of skull and bones, drinking from a goblet filled with blood. His scarlet eyes looked down at the messenger below his feet. He set down the goblet and asked, “How goes the war with Northgard? Has that pig, Barthom, made any progress?”

“Lord Barthom has been requesting for support from the other Lords, but none have responded to his call. At this rate, there won’t be any progress at all.” An ogre by the side responded.

“Send a messenger,” Lord Xishal began. “Tell Barthom that I’m willing to lend my aid in exchange for twenty of his finest virgins.”

“Understood, Milord!” The hobgoblin quickly left on his hog.

“No matter Barthom’s reply, have the troops sharpen their blades.” Lord Xishol commanded and returned to his meal.