Reborn as a Demonic Tree

Chapter 616: Sun God

Luminarch Conclave, Sun God Healing Room.

Every breath Korrath Vaelstorm took sent burning pain erupting through his body.

”The sun godʼs healing light isnʼt working,” a soft voice caressed his ears as a beautiful woman came into view. Or at least, Seraphine Daybringer had been beautiful before the ball. But after fighting against the dark godʼs three-eyed priestess, she would never be the same. The left side of her face had hardened into blackened wood, and both her eyes were glassed over and still bleeding poison.

Apparently, she had gone blind after witnessing the three-eyed priestessʼs recreation of the All-Seeing Eyeʼs gaze.

Her fingers, wreathed in the sun godʼs love, hovered an inch above Korrathʼs face. The light remained tightly wrapped around her fingers, refusing to touch him as if he were corrupted.

”It is working,” Korrath wheezed. ”But it wonʼt even touch me.”

Seraphine Daybringer abruptly reeled back her hand as if afraid to touch something dirty. ”Sorry, Korrath. It would seem you are beyond repair after facing the dark god like me. Have you considered swapping vessels?”

Korrath Vaelstorm snorted painfully. ”I have no infant soul left. It was in my armor that was destroyed. Not that it matters,” he muttered. ”A void creature consumed my arm, and Grand Elder Ren rotted my flesh with soul poison. Swapping vessels wouldnʼt save me from these issues,” he heaved as two Stratospire League warriors came to his side and sat him up.

The Sun Godʼs healing had failed, so he was left with no choice.

More warriors shuffled into the room with contraptions and pieces of Stormglass armor that were far bulkier than he was used to. They surrounded him and stood at attention.

”Korrath, are you ready to be reforged?” his own son asked, his expression carved from stone.

”Yes, my son,” he said. ”Proceed.”

His son held his gaze for a long moment before stepping back and clicking his fingers. The Stormglass warriors around him awakened to action and moved in. Blades gleamed in the light as they swooshed down, lopping off his limbs. Korrath didnʼt even have time to scream before a circular blade bit into his cheek and began carving out the poisoned flesh, its whine climbing as it ground against bone. His own blood splashed warm across his face. There was a dull thunk as a silver rod was driven into the stump where his arm used to be, then a deeper, grinding pressure as it fused with his spine. His consciousness phased in and out like a guttering flame as the procedure dragged on well into the night and through the next day.

It wasnʼt until noon the following day that Korrath slowly opened his eyes.

The floor of the sparkling white room before him was caked in dried blood, gone brown at the edges, and scattered with limbs, organs, and whatever else had once made up his body. All of it was discarded without care for how many centuries he had spent tempering it.

A shadow peeled away from the edge of the room and stepped into the light. It was his son.

”Father, how are you feeling?”

Korrath tilted his head to look at himself. His body, tempered over centuries, was gone. All that remained was the peak of Stratospire League engineering—a body of runic Stormglass.

”I feel... dull...” he said in a voice far raspier and more metallic than he was used to. ”The pain... Itʼs still there.” He slowly looked up to meet his sonʼs concentrated gaze. ”But itʼs manageable.”

His son kneeled before him in the blood. ”Iʼm thrilled to hear that, Father. Without you, the future of the Stratospire League was shrouded in darkness.”

Korrath raised his arm and clenched his fist. The runes engraved into every inch of his new body pulsed softly, drinking power straight from his soul, and he felt the immense physical might it lent him coil through the frame like a storm waiting to break. His body was no longer a vessel for his soul. It was an extension of it.

”What of my blood?” Korrath asked. ”Did it work?”

His son nodded. ”We infused the infant soul of Grand Elder Ren into your new armor, allowing us to change your blood to soul poison. You are also now immune to all types of poison and can produce your own.”

Korrath went to grin and realized he couldnʼt. He reached up with a gauntleted hand and traced his face. It was a mask, smooth, cold, and unmoving. Nothing of him remained, not even his face, which had served as a canvas for a lifetime of battle scars.

A shame. But that was the cost of enjoying the thrill of battle. He had managed to kill two Monarchs by himself before sacrificing his infant soul to escape.

”I will have my revenge,” he rasped, clenching his fingers into a fist.

”I doubt anyone can stand up to you now, Father,” his son said honestly.

What a foolish son.

Korrath chuckled and slowly turned to look at Seraphine, who had patiently stood aside during the surgery, but the blind Monarch wasnʼt interested in him. She was looking off into empty space.

”Hey.”

She turned to look at him. ”Yes, Korrath?”

Her voice was so calm and collected that it threw him off. The Stratospire League and Luminarch Conclave had been mortal enemies for as long as cultivators had conquered the canopy. He had never spent longer than needed in the same room as a sun worshiper. But with the appearance of the dark god, they had been united by a common foe.

”Why donʼt you switch vessels?” he asked, genuinely curious. ”We could even make you a new one with rune forging.”

She tilted her head. ”Why would I do that?”

”The dark god has corrupted your beauty, and your sight has been stolen,” he paused. ”Donʼt you want them back?”

Seraphine smiled. ”Beauty is nothing but a mortal desire—a mere mask worn to impress other mortals. I live to serve the Sun God, and despite my corruption, he still bathes me in his love.”

Korrath flinched as he was reminded who he was talking to.

”What about your sight?”

She looked directly up at the sun, which was overhead, flooding the sparkling room with dazzling light. Her glassy eyes were wide.

”Without sight, I can now gaze directly upon my god and feel his loving warmth,” she raised her arms in reverence. ”I never want to see again. Even if I were to get a new body, I would tear out my own eyes.”

Korrath chuckled. ”Iʼd love an insane woman like you.”

”You only lust for the thrill of battle,” Seraphine said dismissively, lowering her arms. ”Even if it kills you.”

”I suppose so,” Korrath rasped and levitated off the operating table. It was true, he loved nothing more than the thrill of battle, of winning. He wanted people to fear him, but also to love his strength.

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The dark god had been exactly what this era of peace had needed. A shakeup that created a stage upon which he could shine. The weak had been culled, and the strong would rise to the challenge.

A sudden chill gripped the air. Korrath glanced over those present, confirming no malice from any of them.

”Was that the World Tree?” Korrathʼs son asked.

”Letʼs find out,” Korrath said and made use of his Monarch Realm cultivation to fly. Seraphine and his son followed him as they rose into the sunlight and crested the rim of the open-roofed building. Defensive formations crackled in protest at their ascension, but Korrath easily pierced them.

Yet, he came to a sudden stop the moment he crested the buildingʼs rim. The sight before him across the blinding plane of golden World Tree leaves was too shocking for him to process.

”What is it, Father?” his son asked as he joined him, only to fall deathly silent.

In the distance, piercing through the World Treeʼs canopy, was a mountain. It was layered in defensive shields so dense they made the shrine to the Sun Godʼs defenses look like paper in comparison. Alone, that would be shocking enough. But what really chilled Korrath down to his silver bones was what was atop the mountain.

A demonic tree. It was the largest he had ever seen and would tower over any building in the canopy. Some of its branches curved upwards to form a relaxed crown, and despite being a realm below him, the weight of this treeʼs presence dwarfed his own. But most identifying of all was the haze of desolation that shrouded the entire mountain peak, making the treeʼs true capabilities hard to discern.

Seraphine was the last to join them, and despite being blind, she visibly recoiled the moment she crested the buildingʼs defensive formations.

”How is he here?” she whispered frantically. ”I can feel his malicious gaze that wants to swallow the world in darkness! Did he follow me here? Oh, Sun God, protect your child, for the corrupted one has come!”

”Is that the All-Seeing Eye?” his son voiced what they were all thinking.

”I believe so,” Korrath answered.

”But how did he get here?!” Seraphine shrieked, all sanity leaving her. ”He canʼt be here! This is the World Treeʼs divine canopy, the closest plane to the glorious Sun God! A place free from the vile bringer of darkness—”

Korrath grabbed the shrieking Seraphine and pulled her beneath the defensive formations.

”What are you doing?!” she yelled, but couldnʼt escape his vice-like grip, enhanced by his new body.

”I should be the one asking that,” he hissed. ”Get a hold of yourself. It doesnʼt matter how the All-Seeing Eye got here—all that matters is that heʼs here now. Which means the canopy is no longer safe. We need to leave.”

”Let go of me!”

Seraphine wreathed her arm in light and tore herself free from his grip. The extreme heat hissed as it dissipated across Korrathʼs Stormglass armor, saving him from losing a hand.

”I will not leave!” she screamed as sunlight bled from her skin. ”This is my home, my sanctuary!”

”Do you think the dark god cares about that?” Korrath snapped. ”Youʼre insane if you think you can stand against that unstoppable conqueror.”

Seraphine looked at him with disgust. ”Youʼre going to run?”

”I am,” he said adamantly. He had faced the servants of the dark god—they werenʼt entities that Monarchs could defeat on equal terms. His new body gave him advantages, but it still wasnʼt enough. He needed more.

”The battle-loving Korrath Vaelstorm is going to flee?” she laughed in his face. ”It would seem you lost your spine along with the rest of your body. How pathetic.”

Korrath held out his arm to stop his son from lunging at Seraphine.

”Why are you stopping me, Father?” he said through clenched teeth. ”This sun-worshipping freak is disrespecting your great name.”

”Son, donʼt you hear it?”

”Hear what?”

”The whispers. Listen deeply.”

His son closed his eyes and frowned. ”I hear... the name Moros being whispered along with a sense of impending doom.” His eyes opened. ”Father, what does this mean?”

”When the heavens themselves whisper a name in fear, you listen. We are leaving. Now.”

He dove down and rushed toward the doors of the healing room.

”Leave Seraphine to face certain death,” he said, shaking his head. ”Thereʼs no saving the insane.”

”Cowards!” she shrieked as a great shadow cast over the room.

Korrath got the briefest look at a ghostly airship emerging from the aether before he ducked into a corridor and slammed the door shut behind him. He hadnʼt made it a few steps before the room behind him exploded, and a wall of fire erupted down the hallway, engulfing him and his fleeing son.

His new Stormglass body was unfazed by the Monarch Realm level fire, but his son was less lucky. He screamed in pain as his flesh was charred down to the bone.

Korrath grabbed him by the arm and dragged him through the fire until they reached the end of the hallway and rushed down the stairs. A defensive formation triggered behind them, and a shield rippled to life and ate the wall of fire as they staggered into the main hall of the building.

”Take care of him,” Korrath said, handing his son to the waiting Stormglass warriors.

”What is happening in there?” a priest from the Luminarch Conclave demanded, along with a legion of their own cultivators.

”Seraphine Daybringer is facing off against the dark god,” he said calmly, glancing over his shoulder at the fire that was so blindingly bright it seemed to be made from light itself, ”and she appears to be going all out.”

***

”Youʼve really never been given a name before?” Ashlock asked.

”Why would I need a name?” the World Tree snapped back. ”Iʼm the one and only World Tree. That is what I am.”

”Well, Iʼd beg to differ,” Ashlock calmly replied. ”Iʼve experienced many dreams showing me the past cycles from the perspective of different World Trees. While it may be typical for there only to be one World Tree in existence at a time, youʼre not the first to be called as such.”

The World Tree fell silent.

”I want to give you a name, Mom,” Stella said eagerly. ”That way, you will be the first World Tree ever to be granted a name!”

”It feels strange to be named by other people,” she complained.

”Then pick a name yourself,” Stella offered. ”Anything you like is fine.”

Despite lacking a face, it was easy to tell the World Tree was feeling stressed by the way her raw emotions rumbled across Red Vine Peak, as if an encroaching storm were approaching.

”Let me give it some thought,” she said and fell into deep contemplation.

Ashlock took the opportunity to call in Moros from the aether and have the Bastion investigate the Luminarch Conclave in the distance. While he didnʼt expect any rebel Monarchs to be foolish enough to hang around, he bet none of them were expecting him to appear on the canopy.

As Moros passed by him, he felt Akasha rustle her leaves angrily at him. Had he done something to anger her? He had no idea.

”I canʼt think of one,” the World Tree lamented after a while. ”Stella, you can choose.”

Stella crossed her arms, and Ashlock had never seen her look so serious.

”A name befitting Mother...” Her forehead creased as she thought deeply. Eventually, she looked up, as if she had made a decision. ”I think the name Sylva suits you.”

”Sylva?” the World Tree mused. ”It sounds a little soft, donʼt you think?”

Stella frowned. ”You want an intimidating name?”

Ashlock felt the World Treeʼs attention shift to him, then back to Stella.

”No, I suppose I can leave that role to Ashlock.”

”Will you take the name then?” Stella asked, her eyes filled with hope.

The World Tree seemed to play with the idea for a moment before relenting.

”Fine. I accept the name, Sylva. But if I have a human name, donʼt I need a surname?”

”Why not take the Crestfallen name like me?” Stella suggested. ”We are family after all.”

”I canʼt do that. The Crestfallen Bloodline is just one of many I store within my golden sap, but that doesnʼt make me a Crestfallen. I also have many other children out there made from the Celestial Empireʼs experiments, and not all are Crestfallens. I need a surname that has no attachment to anything in this world and is worthy of sitting above all other bloodlines.”

A tall ask.

Stella seemed a little sad that her idea of them sharing a surname had been rejected, but she pressed forward. ”A name nobody else has,” she pursed her lips. ”I donʼt know every surname that exists, so Iʼm not sure how I can avoid them.” She glanced at Ashlock. ”What about you, Ash? Any ideas?”

Surprisingly, the World Tree didnʼt seem against him coming up with a surname. Her idle attention simply shifted his way and awaited an option.

Ashlock felt a lot of pressure. A name that both fit, and wasnʼt used in this world.

”What about Yggdrasil?”

Yggdrasil was the name for the World Tree in Norse mythology. It was a name with a rich history in his old world, and he doubted it was used here.

”What do you think, Mother?” Stella asked expectantly.

”The name seems to hold power,” she replied after a moment. ”How interesting. Iʼll take it.”

Ashlock couldnʼt lie—he felt a tinge of joy at having his suggestion accepted.

”Sylva Yggdrasil,” the World Tree repeated, and Ashlock swore he felt a ripple through the cosmos. ”I like it,” she said warmly.

”Itʼs nice to meet you again, Sylva,” Ashlock said. ”I look forward to—”

A beam of light shot into the sky, carving an infinite line in the vast expanse of space overhead. It was so bright it glowed through the desolation haze he had set up and even burned away the first layer of shields he had erected.

”Moros!” Ashlock yelled as he saw his ship consumed by the beam of light.

Stella didnʼt hesitate, having already vanished into the aether and teleporting over to the Luminarch Conclave spires.

Diana spread her demonic wings and was soon to follow.