The seed, nourished by Ketal’s blood, did not simply bloom—a single flower, or even a small bouquet. It went far beyond that. In a matter of moments, it grew until it filled the entire room, its blossoms bursting out in all directions. It was an impossible sight, something only recorded in ancient stories. There was only one known explanation for such a phenomenon: it could happen only if the blood itself was a special catalyst, a source of supernatural vitality. Among all the legendary beings of this world, there was one that fit this category above all—the dragon. Even so, Ash wondered, would even a dragon’s blood cause a flower to run so wild as to overflow and fill a room? He stared at Ketal, searching for some sign, some hidden scale, some trace of the monstrous. However, when Ketal raised his arm and rolled up his sleeve, his skin—though marred by a few old scars—was perfectly human. “See? No scales or anything of the sort,” Ketal said, a hint of amusement in his voice. “I assure you, I’m just a human.” “I see... Of course...” Ash replied, though he sounded anything but convinced. He couldn’t quite bring himself to drop the formal tone. Even if Ketal denied it, Ash’s own senses screamed that this was no ordinary human. Clearing his throat and regaining some composure, Ash continued, “W-well, the test is complete. There’s no doubt. You are fully qualified to enter. Please, follow me.” “Thank you,” Ketal said, smiling. With that, Ash led him past the entry and deeper into the sacred ground. From the very first step, Ketal was captivated by the landscape that unfolded before him. They walked through a city that seemed to have grown out of the World Tree itself—its buildings made not from cut and stacked wood, but from the living architecture of tree trunks and immense leaves. There was no sense of crudeness or wildness in their construction. Instead, the homes and walkways had a clean, sophisticated feel, almost like something from a trendy modern city—except here, everything was seamlessly integrated with nature. Structures climbed up along the enormous trunk of the World Tree, connected by living branches that served as stairs and platforms, winding their way up to dizzying heights. It might have sounded inconvenient to live in a city built vertically along a tree. Yet because the tree was so vast—so massive in every dimension—the villages and homes felt spacious and stable, with no sense of being crowded or precarious. Not every building was high above, either. Closer to the base of the tree, there were larger structures, gathering halls, and communal spaces where elves of all ages could be seen. Children ran laughing through open parks and gardens, while adults strolled the paths with serene expressions. Even the elders, whose hair shimmered with the faint glow of ancient magic, walked at a peaceful pace, pausing to watch over the young or simply to enjoy the air. Ketal could not help but marvel as a gentle awe filled him. This, he realized, was what it meant to stand at the heart of a true fantasy. He studied the faces of the elves as he passed, half expecting to see anxiety or fear. After all, the sacred ground was under threat. Only recently, an entire nearby village had been attacked and burned by forces of evil. Yet the elves looked perfectly calm, their expressions untouched by worry. It was as if the looming darkness meant nothing to them. “Everyone here looks much better than I expected,” Ketal mused aloud, watching a group of children tumble past, their laughter echoing up to the canopy. Ash, who walked beside him, gave a quiet, understanding nod. “This is our sacred ground. Evil cannot set foot here. And above all, we have our queen.” He spoke calmly, but there was a subtle pride in his voice. “Not just any tribal queen, either,” he continued, “but the High Elf Queen herself. The one who is contracted to the Spirit King. With her here, the dark mages cannot breach our sanctuary. There is no power in this world that could do so.” Ketal listened, thinking of how similar this confidence sounded to the words he’d heard at Kalosia’s holy land. Even so, if the High Elf Queen was truly a Hero, the difference in power between her and mere Transcendents would be immense. He could understand their faith in her. They drew closer to the base of the World Tree. The elves who had been resting there noticed Ketal’s approach. Almost instantly, the peaceful scene dissolved. Elves gasped and recoiled, snatching up their children and hurrying up the tree’s winding paths. Even the middle-aged and elderly elves scattered, vanishing up into the safety of the higher branches. As heavy silence settled, Ketal watched them go, feeling oddly melancholy. “That’s a little sad.” Ash grimaced, apologetic. “I hope you understand. You’re like a lion among sheep here. Only those of us with power comparable to mine can even endure your presence.” “It’s a bit of a problem, isn’t it?” Ketal replied, half-smiling, half-sighing. He understood why the elves acted this way. To them, he was a wild beast—dangerous, uncontrollable, and utterly foreign. It didn’t matter if he had passed the sacred ground’s test. Even a lion on a leash would send people running if it strolled through a city without warning. Ketal, at least in their eyes, was a lion without a leash. It was a troublesome situation. In theory, if he spent enough time among the elves, they would get used to his presence and overcome their fear. However, if everyone fled at the mere sight of him, there would be no chance to grow closer or become friends. He’d come all this way, and yet there was a real possibility he wouldn’t be able to enjoy the sacred ground at all. He was pondering how to handle this when, suddenly, the sound of rapid footsteps reached his ears from above. Someone was descending the World Tree with remarkable speed. Ketal turned toward the source of the sound. A moment later, the figure landed on the ground. Ketal’s face lit up in delight. “Arkemis!” Ketal shouted. “Ketal! You really came!” cried Arkemis, her expression shining with joy. Striding forward, Arkemis closed the distance between them in an instant. Despite being a High Elf—someone who, more than any other, should have felt the overwhelming pressure that Ketal radiated—she showed no hesitation, not even for a moment. Her steps were quick, confident, even a little reckless. She stopped right in front of him and grinned. “You made it! Ketal, you actually came!” she exclaimed, voice full of excitement. “Did you think I wouldn’t?” Ketal replied with a teasing smile. “I always keep my promises.” “I knew you’d come! I just didn’t expect you to come so soon,” Arkemis replied, her face beaming. Inside, though, she felt an unexpected wave of relief. She had worried that Ketal might never visit her. She had worried about this more than she wanted to admit. Ketal’s presence was intimidating for most elves—intolerably so. Even here in the sacred ground, he was unlikely to receive a warm welcome. She herself had spent enough time outside the sacred ground to know just how miserable it felt to be shunned by everyone around her. Given his strength, Ketal could go anywhere and be treated as a hero. There was no reason for him to put up with discomfort or rejection just to visit the elves. She had reassured herself countless times that he would come anyway, but the fear still lingered. She had even begun to do little petal readings for comfort—something she’d never bothered with before. However, he had come, and much sooner than she’d dared hope. Her spirits soared. She looked at him, her eyes shining. “Did Ash show you around?” she asked, turning to the guardian captain. “Ah, yes. I did,” Ash replied, a little stiffly. So this is the human Lady Arkemis spoke about, Ash thought, watching the two of them together. There was something about Arkemis’s gaze—it was almost like watching a girl in love. He felt a little awkward, as if he were intruding. However, Arkemis paid him no mind. She was focused entirely on Ketal. “Standing around out here feels weird. Why don’t you come up to my place?” she suggested. “That sounds good to me,” Ketal replied. “Great! Follow me! Ash, thank you for your help!” she said, waving as she turned to lead the way. “Of course,” Ash said, bowing slightly. It was an unmistakable dismissal. As much as he felt he ought to object to losing his guest, he knew better than to argue with a High Elf. There was no need to resist, and no real justification for it. Arkemis, radiant with happiness, led Ketal up the winding paths of the World Tree. Ash lingered behind, watching them go. Lady Arkemis said he was strange, Ash thought, shaking his head. But seeing it for myself... He’s more than strange. He’s downright extraordinary. No one else could make a flower fill a room or scare off a whole city of elves just by walking by. Maybe I should talk to the queen about him... Ash turned and set off to find his superior. Ketal followed Arkemis as they ascended the World Tree. Along the way, they passed several elves, all of whom recoiled at the sight of Ketal and pressed themselves against the trunk to let him pass. When they recognized Arkemis, they stared in open astonishment, as though witnessing something out of a legend. “What are you looking at?” Arkemis snapped at one gawking elf. The elf flinched, shrinking back as Arkemis swept past. “Doesn’t seem like you’re on the best terms with the others here,” Ketal observed. “I’m not,” Arkemis replied with a disgruntled sigh. “After spending so long away from the sacred ground, everyone looks at me like I’m some irresponsible princess. Who are they to judge me, anyway?” She grumbled as she led the way higher up the tree. The World Tree was vast, and her home was perched far above the base. It took a good deal of time and effort to reach it. “Your house is really up there,” Ketal said, glancing up at the distance they still had to climb. “Of course it is. I’m the great and mighty High Elf. It wouldn’t do to live lower down like everyone else. Ugh, it’s such a pain to climb every day,” Arkemis muttered. Ketal chuckled, amused by her attitude. Eventually, they reached her house—a dwelling set apart from the others, befitting her reputation as the heretic among High Elves. She spun around and gestured with a flourish. “Here we are! My place! Come on in!” “Thank you. I’ll make myself at home,” Ketal replied as he stepped inside. He glanced around, surprised at how familiar it felt. “This isn’t so different from the houses in the Kingdom of Denian.” In the center of the room, a cauldron simmered gently, and the walls were lined with shelves full of alchemical reagents. It was nearly identical to the setup she’d used before. “That’s because it’s my optimal layout. I remodeled the place the moment I got back,” Arkemis said, a touch of pride in her voice. “I guess no one tried to stop you?” Ketal asked her. “Not for lack of trying. The Queen nagged me for days, but I told her I’d leave if she wrecked my house again. After a few arguments, she gave up. Parco also stood up for me, which helped a lot.” Ketal smiled. He had once asked Parco to look after Arkemis, but with no real way to enforce it, he hadn’t been sure what to expect. “So Parco kept his word. That’s good to hear. I should thank him sometime.” “Honestly, he probably wishes you wouldn’t. He’s terrified of you. The mere mention of your name makes him jump out of his skin,” Arkemis said, rolling her eyes. Ketal laughed. It seemed things had worked out well enough. Arkemis led him to a room she had prepared for guests. “So, how have you been?” she asked Ketal, settling onto a nearby chair. “I’ve been well. I helped out at Kalosia’s holy land for a bit, then traveled with the Inquisitor of the Sun God. I even spent time with the merfolk.” “Inquisitor of the Sun God? Who was that?” Arkemis froze. “You mean the genius Inquisitor?” “Oh, you know of her?” “Of course I do. She’s famous—supposedly young and beautiful. Is it true?” “Very much so,” Ketal replied honestly. Aquaz’s beauty could easily rival that of an elf. “I see... So you traveled with Aquaz.” Arkemis trailed off, her expression suddenly clouded. “Was it just the two of you?” she asked him quietly. “No, there was someone else with us. Why do you ask? You seem... unsettled.” For a moment, Arkemis’s face looked almost jealous. “It’s nothing,” she said, shaking her head vigorously. Then, she showed him to his room. “You must be tired from your journey. Rest here. Make yourself comfortable.” “Thank you,” Ketal said, nodding. Once Ketal was settled, Arkemis stepped out and closed the door. Alone in the hallway, she clenched her fists in determination. That night, as Ketal lounged in his room, there was a quiet knock at the door. He glanced up. “What is it?” “Ketal, want to have a drink?” Arkemis’s voice came through. She stepped inside, holding a bottle of clear, sparkling liquid. “Let’s share a drink and talk about everything that’s happened. What do you say? This is elven reserve—you can’t get this outside. Only those in the sacred ground ever get a taste.” “I’d be honored,” Ketal replied eagerly, rising to join her. Elven spirits were a rare treat, and he saw no reason to refuse. He paused, surprised. “Arkemis? Your clothes... They’re different from usual.” Arkemis was dressed in something similar to human-world loungewear, with less coverage than her standard attire—her arms and legs were bare, though nothing was truly revealing by human standards. Still, compared to her normal robes, it was almost shocking. Thɪs chapter is updated by novel{f}ire.net Trying to sound casual, she shrugged. “Just something I wear around the house.” “Still, it looks pretty elaborate for loungewear.” “It only looks that way. It’s actually comfortable. I wear it all the time.” “Didn’t you wear more typical clothes back in the Denian Kingdom?” Ketal asked her, genuinely curious. “That was because the climate was cooler there. It’s warmer here, so I prefer this,” Arkemis replied, trying to sound nonchalant. Ketal nodded. If that was how she felt, there was no reason to pry further. “Let’s drink,” Arkemis said, holding up the bottle. Ketal grinned, settling down next to her. As she poured the drinks, Arkemis’s eyes flickered with resolve. For a brief moment, she looked as if she was preparing for a battle of her own, intent on seizing an opportunity she had been waiting for.