My world-tree system-Chapter 53 - 52: Absorption

Foster gasped, his body trembling, as silence fell over the mental space.

The mark had been broken, its howl had ceased, but it had not disappeared.

Its remnants still clung to Kassandra’s soul, like a residual stain, a persistent poison.

The Mother Tree, still vibrating with transcendent strength, understood immediately.

She dashed forward.

Foster opened up to her, allowing their bond to merge fully.

And so the process began.

The roots of light that had pierced the mark began to move, sliding slowly around the remaining black fragments.

They coiled, tightened, suffocated.

The corruption struggled, trying to retract into the depths of Kassandra’s soul, but Foster wouldn’t let it.

He stretched out his hand, forcing the stain to detach itself.

The pieces of darkness were torn away, like an infection being ripped from flesh.

They were now floating helplessly, separated from their host.

It was at this moment that the Mother Tree breathed in.

A powerful current of energy rose up.

The darkness howled, but was inexorably drawn towards the Mother Tree, sucked like ash into a whirlpool.

The ancestral branches vibrated, saturated with foreign energy.

Foster felt the weight of this defilement in the very bark of the Tree, a hateful, chaotic presence that was still trying to fight back.

But it was too late.

The Mother Tree crushed it under its own essence, reshaped it, engulfed it.

The corruption no longer had any hold.

Foster felt a chill run through the roots, a wave of purification spreading through the bond.

As the mark faded, consumed by the relentless power of the Mother Tree, something changed.

A wave of pure life flowed through the sacred bond between Foster and the Mother Tree, vibrating in the air like a deep, ancient note.

The Mother Tree, saturated with new energy, grew even more.

Its branches widened, stretching out like arms welcoming the sky.

Its leaves became denser and brighter, bathing the city in emerald light.

Its roots, already vast, plunged deeper, feeding off the forces of the earth, the very essence of the world.

It was no longer just a refuge; it was becoming a force, a sylvan divinity on the rise.

But Foster was also changing.

In the meanders of her being, where the Seed rested, a pulse resounded.

Up until then, it had been no more than a juvenile tree, a fragile promise of the future.

But when it came into contact with this essence plucked from the darkness, something activated.

The Seed awoke.

Foster felt the sap bubble up inside him, his veins becoming rivers of pure energy.

His body tingled, his soul vibrated.

In his mind, the image of the young tree inside him changed.

Its roots sank deep into invisible soil, stabilising itself.

Its trunk grew thicker and stronger.

Its first branches stretched towards a sky he could not see.

The Seed was no longer a fragile bud.

It was becoming a real tree, a growing entity, a legacy taking shape.

Foster gasped, but didn’t falter.

He could feel everything.

The Mother Tree was more powerful than ever.

Then, at the very top of the Mother Tree, where only the purest winds dared to blow, a unique phenomenon occurred.

A solitary bud emerged from the thick canopy, tiny at first, fragile, barely perceptible to the naked eye. Yet every fibre of the Mother Tree vibrated in response, as if this simple appearance shook its very essence.

The nearest leaves quivered, and a soft, golden light slowly escaped from the bud, like a star in gestation.

Then it opened.

A flower of unspeakable beauty slowly bloomed, its petals sparkling with a mixture of deep green and liquid gold. This was no ordinary flower. An unmistakable scent wafted through the city on the breeze, penetrating the soul of every elf.

This was no mere bud. It was a birth.

Foster looked up at the sight with a heavy heart. He didn’t quite understand, but he knew.

Something greater was at work.

And then the transformation continued.

The petals began to close in on themselves, folding like an offering to the Mother Tree. They condensed, hardened, and in their place, a single fruit took shape.

A deep green fruit, veined with gold, vibrating with energy.

It was neither too large nor too small. Perfectly balanced, as if it contained everything that was meant to be.

The golden lines on its surface pulsed slowly, like a sleeping heart.

All the elves felt it. A shiver ran through the city.

Meanwhile, Foster was also undergoing radical changes.

A deep throb echoed through his being, like an extra heart lodged in the hollow of his chest.

His vision blurred for a moment, and when he blinked, he saw beyond the visible world.

The roots beneath his feet, woven into the earth.

The flow of vital energy in the air.

The breath of nature itself.

He didn’t just feel the power of the Mother Tree. He felt his own tree growing inside him.

His muscles were reorganising.

His bones and tendons were becoming stronger and more flexible, like living wood.

His skin, thin and battle-scarred, was adapting to the changes, becoming both more robust and more receptive to the energies of the world.

[*Ding* Drastic increase in stats]

But it wasn’t just a physical strengthening.

In the depths of his mind, the youthful World Tree within him was whispering an ancient truth.

A lost knowledge.

A forgotten cycle.

A deeper, more intense throbbing emerged inside him.

He could give birth.

Foster fell to his knees under the intensity of the revelation.

- Oh shit,’ he said.

The images washed over him like an unstoppable wave.

A night of full moon.

The elves of the World Tree gathered in a circle under the Mother Tree.

Their bond vibrating, pulsing in unison, passing through every being, every root, every leaf.

Each elf offering a part of their essence, not to sacrifice themselves, but to create.

A new life.

A plant cradle at the centre of the ritual, where a new child of their species would be born.

A new elf.

Foster raised a trembling hand to his chest.

- It’s impossible! he said as tears welled up in his eyes.

[Congratulations host for acquiring the talent [Father of the race]]

The extinction he feared...

The inevitable end he believed was written into the destiny of his people...

Was no longer inevitable.

They could be reborn.

His people could live again.

Emotion overwhelmed him, more violent than any pain he had ever felt.

He hadn’t just saved Kassandra today.

He had saved the future.

And for the first time in too long...

Foster believed in the dawn of tomorrow.

[Host Status]

[Race] : Elf of the World Tree

[Knight of rank 8]

[Adept Rank 7]

[Innate Talent] : Child of the World Tree, Father of the race

[Level 15: 10/100,000]

[Strength] : 112

[Stamina]: 110

[Constitution]: 115

[Perception]: 116

[Magic]: 103

[Free stat points] : 32

[Equipment: Grimoire, Devourer’s Katana