Chapter 69: Created「Quest Completed! 」

    +5 Compassion

    Compassion: 44/100

    The tree enclosed Grace. After a moment of darkness, a green light glowed from the bark, illuminating her face. The interior was more spacious than she’d expected—a hollow chamber where the living wood walls radiated energy.

    "You are not her," the Root’s voice resonated through the wood, "but you carry her essence."

    Grace steadied herself, placing one hand on the inner wall for balance. The wood was warm and slightly damp under her fingertips.

    "You mean Eternia?"

    A tremor ran through the chamber. The walls shifted slightly, as if the tree itself had inhaled sharply.

    "You speak her name so casually." The voice changed—multiple tones overlapped, creating a sort of chorus effect that made Grace’s skin prickle. "Yes. She who created and destroyed. She who abandoned."

    Strands of light descended from the ceiling, twisting around Grace without touching her. They lit up her face and hair, examining her like curious fingers.

    "What are you to her?" the Root asked. "You are not her vessel. Not her avatar. Yet you carry her light."

    "I’m..." Grace hesitated, unsure how to explain something she barely understood herself. "She created me, directly. That’s what she told me."

    The chamber constricted again, this time with enough force that Grace felt the pressure change in her ears.

    "Created directly?" The Root’s voice pitched higher with what sounded like excitement. "Like us? The first ones?"

    The tendrils of light drew closer, almost touching Grace’s skin. She could feel heat radiating from them.

    "I don’t know about any first ones, but... I guess?" Grace said quietly. "I was a turnip farmer who died. Then I became an angel. I met her, and she told me I was different from other angels. She... told me she made me."

    "Yesssss." The word stretched out, hissing through the wooden chamber. "Different. Special. Chosen. We were chosen too, before she made the better one."

    "The better one?"

    "Azrael." The name echoed with bitterness. "She created us to help shape Linaria, to give it form and function. I was to nourish the land, to make it fertile. Others were to fill the seas, to raise mountains, to bring weather. We were her hands in this world."

    The tendrils retreated slightly, coiling around themselves like agitated snakes.

    "Then she grew tired of managing us. Created Azrael to do it instead. Left us behind."

    Grace took a careful step forward.

    "You helped create Linaria? What was it like then?"

    The chamber brightened, the green glow intensifying. Images began to form on the walls—projections or memories, Grace couldn’t tell. They showed vast empty plains, barren rock, and then the slow emergence of life.

    "She walked among us then," the Root said, its voice softening with something like reverence. "In a form like yours, but not. Taller. Brighter. She would laugh when new things grew. She would touch the soil with her bare feet and flowers would bloom in her footsteps."

    The images shifted, showing a figure that made Grace gasp. It looked like her—or rather, she looked like it—but with an unmistakable difference in presence. The figure radiated light that made looking directly at it difficult.

    She didn’t quite look the way she had in Grace’s dreams. There was a hint of boredom on her face. Something Grace could identify because she’d seen what Eternia looked like when she wasn’t like that.

    "That’s Eternia?" Grace whispered, one brow raised.

    "Yes." The Root’s voice sounded almost hungry now. "You have her face. Her form. But smaller. Dimmer. Yet still..."

    A tendril finally brushed against Grace’s cheek, and she flinched at the contact. It didn’t hurt, but it sent a jolt through her system like static electricity.

    "Delicious," the Root purred. "Even diluted, her essence is intoxicating."

    "Well, uh..." Grace stepped back. "I’m not her. I’m just Grace." S~ea??h the ηovelFire.ηet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    "Just Grace," the Root repeated, amusement evident in its multi-layered voice. "No one created by Eternia is ’just’ anything. Tell me, Just Grace, do you know why she made Linaria at all?"

    "No," Grace admitted. "She doesn’t exactly give straight answers."

    The Root’s laughter shook the chamber, causing bits of bark to rain down from above.

    "That hasn’t changed, then. She created for creation’s sake. For amusement. For company, perhaps. But when the maintaining proved tedious, she made Azrael and stepped back. And we... we were forgotten."

    The images on the walls changed again, showing the figure of Eternia walking away, disappearing into light, leaving behind the half-formed world.

    "Is that why you’re corrupting things now?" Grace asked. "Because you’re angry at being abandoned?"

    The Root’s response came as a tremor through the chamber. Grace felt the vibration in her bones.

    "Corrupting? Is that what you call it?" The Root’s voice shifted, becoming defensive. "I am returning to my purpose. Reclaiming what was mine to shape."

    Grace steadied herself against the pulsing wall.

    "By hurting people? By turning them into those... plant creatures?"

    "They are being remade. Perfected." The tendrils of light moved more aggressively now, circling her like predators. "All of Linaria was to be shaped by us. The mortals were an afterthought, a distraction."

    Grace’s medallion grew warm against her chest. She placed her hand over it, feeling its comforting heat through her clothing.

    "You said there were others like you. The first ones. Where are they now?"

    The chamber darkened slightly, the green glow dimming.

    "Scattered. Sleeping. Forgotten. Some faded away entirely when she left. Others found new purpose." The Root’s voice lowered. "I remained most true to my original task. I continued to shape the land, even when she no longer watched."

    Grace took a careful step back, noticing how the walls seemed to be inching closer.

    "And Azrael? What happened when Eternia created her?"

    The chamber constricted violently. Grace stumbled as the floor shifted beneath her feet.

    "She was the replacement. The ’better half’ of Eternia. Given authority over all of Linaria while we were... relegated." Bitterness dripped from every syllable. "But even she was eventually cast aside, was she not? When she discovered the power of Sins."

    Grace’s eyes widened.

    "How do you know about that?"

    "I have been here since the beginning. I see. I hear. I know." The Root’s voice grew louder, more distorted. "I know that you carry Eternia’s essence. I know that you could reconnect me to her."

    The tendrils of light suddenly plunged toward Grace. She dodged, but they changed direction mid-air, wrapping around her wrists.

    "Wait!" she cried out. "What are you doing?"

    "Taking what should be mine." The Root’s voice had lost all pretense of civility. "Her attention. Her power. Through you."

    Grace struggled against the tendrils, which tightened painfully. More shot out from the walls, wrapping around her ankles, her waist, her throat.

    "I knew you’d try this," Grace gasped, trying to reach her rapier. Her fingers brushed the hilt, but a tendril yanked her arm away. "That’s why I came in here. To stop you."

    The Root laughed, a sound like splitting wood.

    "Stop me? Little angel, you walked willingly into my embrace."

    The walls began to close in, the chamber shrinking around her. Grace felt panic rising in her chest, but pushed it down.

    [Well, this isn’t good. Okay, Eternia. You made me walk in here. What am I supposed to do?]

    A translucent blue box appeared before her eyes:

    「Quest Gained!」

    Category: None

    Objective: Survive the Root’s attempt to absorb you

    Reward: ???

    [That’s it?] Grace stared in disbelief. [Just survive!?]

    The tendrils began to sink into her skin, burning like acid. Grace screamed as she felt something foreign entering her bloodstream, trying to merge with her essence.

    "Your divine energy," the Root hissed with pleasure. "So pure. So close to hers."

    Grace’s vision began to blur. The medallion against her chest burned white-hot now, almost painfully. In desperation, she focused on it, channeling her energy toward the symbol of Eternia.

    The Root’s tendrils dug deeper. Grace felt her consciousness starting to fragment, her sense of self dissolving at the edges. The wooden walls pressed against her from all sides now, beginning to merge with her flesh.

    "You will be part of me," the Root’s voice came from everywhere, including inside her own head. "And through you, I will reconnect with her."

    Grace’s strength was failing. Her struggles grew weaker as the Root’s essence invaded her body, her mind, her soul.

    Then the medallion exploded with light.

    The chamber filled with blinding white radiance, so intense that even with her eyes closed, Grace saw nothing but pure light. The Root shrieked—a sound of both agony and ecstasy.

    "Argh, what-!?" The Root began to exclaim. It stopped. "YOU," it howled, its voice shaking the entire structure.

    The pressure around Grace suddenly released. She collapsed to the floor, gasping for breath, her vision slowly returning.

    Then, her eyes widened.

    Long, flowing, white hair. Clothing like light wrapped around her body. A single hand extended toward the Root, pushing it back.

    Eternia.

    "Well, well," she said, keeping her hand thrust forward. "Isn’t this a touching reunion?"