Rheanor pressed a hand lightly over his chest. His heartbeat, usually steady and silent as still water, was uneven — responding to something it had no business responding to. He had long trained his body to remain untouched by external influence, yet now it stirred as if being called.

He kept his breathing controlled — slow in, slow out — before speaking in a low murmur.

"Come where?"

The voice did not answer in words, but in a presence.

Come.

Rheanor exhaled sharply through his nose. "I heard you the first two times. At least give me a direction—"

Before he could finish, the air shifted.

The mana — normally calm and pure around Yggdrasil — surged in a ripple. It was subtle, but unmistakable. Rheanor’s eyes widened, because such a fluctuation simply should not be possible here. Not unless—

He slowly lifted his gaze.

Yggdrasil stood in the moonlight like a colossal silhouette of silver. The great tree shimmered, its leaves glimmering softly as though touched by starlight itself. The call was clearer now — not a voice, not a sound, but a pull. A beckoning.

"You have got to be kidding me," Rheanor muttered under his breath.

Then, another shift — a breath of wind, light but deliberate. Rheanor looked toward the palace and felt his pupils narrow.

The mana barrier that normally covered the entire palace — impenetrable, constant, living — was thinning. The protective veil that would have sensed even the flutter of a moth’s mana had weakened to a faint ripple. It was opening.

For him.

Rheanor stared at Yggdrasil again, disbelief flickering across his expression. Even in disguise, even concealed, even resisting — the sacred tree recognized him.

"... So that’s how it is."

A quiet laugh escaped him.

He stepped toward the wisteria-draped archway. The barrier, which should have pushed him back or sounded an alarm, parted like mist — dissolving around him in gentle strands of silver light.

Rheanor shook his head, smiling despite himself, and broke into a swift run toward the palace, his form silent and sure beneath the moonlit bloom.

He leapt over the vine-draped outer walls like a shadow slipping between moonbeams, crossing balconies and parapets in mere heartbeats. His feet barely touched the stone; his presence flickered like a swift, silent gale. The guards stationed along the corridors only felt a sudden rush of wind tugging at their cloaks, none aware that someone had passed right before their eyes.

Rheanor reached the palace’s rear courtyard and scaled the last wall in a single bound, landing on the other side where the world opened into a breathtaking sight—groves of wisteria, their blossoms cascading in curtains of pale violet that shimmered in the night. Under any other circumstance, he would have paused... perhaps admired the beauty that only Elvenland could grow. But the pull in his chest dragged him forward, relentless.

He ran uphill, guided by that faint whisper—no louder than a sigh, yet unignorable.

"I take it that you’ve even dispelled the mana barrier from yourself," he spoke under his breath, his tone almost fond, almost accusing. "Calling me this openly... Bold of you."

But there was no reply—only that tug in his sternum, that strange tightness that urged urgency, as though something sacred was waiting... or dying.

The hill crest opened into a clear expanse, and there it stood.

Yggdrasil.

The sacred tree towered impossibly high, its canopy veiling the stars. Moss clung to its ancient bark—a bark so wide it could take dozens of men to reach around when linked arm-in-arm. The silver glow that suffused its leaves was not moonlight; the light came from within—as though the tree breathed mana itself.

Rheanor slowed, his steps quiet, reverent. The leaves rustled gently—as if shivering in recognition.

He turned once, glancing back down the hill. The palace lay distant, its silhouette framed by the violet lantern-like trees—an entire world away from where he now stood.

Then he faced Yggdrasil again.

"Say," he murmured, voice quieter now, almost respectful, "Why did you call me here?"

No voice answered. Only the rustling of leaves, soft... persistent... like whispers not meant for mortal ears.

Rheanor exhaled, long and steady. The tension in his chest pulsed again—warm, insistent, alive.

"What is it?" he asked, looking up at the luminous canopy. "You summoned me the moment I arrived in Edrisyl... so tell me. What happened?"

A sudden gust of wind swept past Rheanor again—strong enough that his coat snapped sharply behind him. At the same moment, the mana devices strapped to him flickered, their circuits resonating with a discordant hum.

Rheanor’s eyebrow twitched.

"Hey—don’t mess with my devices." He snapped the words out, almost like scolding an annoying companion.

The leaves rustled again. A soft sound, but pointed.

As if answering.

He exhaled slowly through his nose.

"What? You want me to talk to you in my real form?"

His figure flickered—Rheanor’s outline blurred, shifting into Ocean’s soft features for the briefest instant, then again into Lynx’s sharper one. The mana struggled to stabilize, forms overlapping like layers of memories.

Another gust of wind rushed against him—firm this time. Insistent.

"...Fine."

Rheanor lifted his hand to his left earlobe, fingertips brushing the small, inconspicuous earstud. A pulse of mana traveled through him—clean, unmasked, unrestrained.

His form stilled—condensed—unveiled.

Reina Aurelius stood where Rheanor once did.

Her long, snow-white hair flowed freely in the wind like a pale banner, contrasting sharply against the dark, sleek coat she wore. The silver embroidery on its sleeves shimmered faintly, echoing the glow of Yggdrasil’s leaves.

Her presence alone was enough to shift the air.

"I, Reina Aurelius," she spoke clearly—her voice smooth, resonant, and commanding without effort, "Scion of the Supreme Aqua Dragon, greet Yggdrasil."

The sacred tree was silent.

Reina’s temple twitched. Just slightly.

She waited.

Still, nothing.

"...Do you—"

The ground vanished.

No warning. No shift. No rumble.

Just—gone.

Reina dropped straight down into a yawning void of pure black. But her instincts reacted before her thoughts did—telekinesis flared around her like invisible wings, arresting her fall and slowing it into a controlled descent. Her boots touched solid ground soundlessly.

The space around her was dim—an underground hollow formed of enormous roots, their surfaces smooth and ancient, veined faintly with light. The air smelled of earth, old mana, and something older still.

"That was a bad trick," she muttered, brushing the dust from her coat.

A slow pulse vibrated through the air—thump... thump... the rhythmic wave of mana reverberating off the earthen walls around her, like the chamber itself was breathing.

Reina lifted her gaze. The opening she had fallen through was now only a distant circle of faint moonlight, several hundred meters above. The scent of seawater lingered in the air, subtle but unmistakable—salt carried by an underground current—and beneath it, the heavy scent of old earth and roots.

She let the realization settle.

Yggdrasil’s roots reached the sea.

Of course they did.

She exhaled once, then began walking.

The tunnel ahead was narrow, but not claustrophobic—its walls were wrapped in thick dark-brown roots, layered and intertwined like the sinews of a colossal beast. Her footsteps echoed softly, and the limited air here felt heavy, as though each breath had weight.

She moved deeper until the tunnel widened into a cavernous underground chamber.

It was not empty.

A massive structure of roots dominated the center—an intricate convergence, all the creeping tendrils from the walls pulling toward one dense, living mass. It resembled a heart suspended between earth and stone, thick and knotted, but pulsing. The throbbing was slow, steady, almost serene—alive.

Reina paused.

Her eyes narrowed.

The mana wave she felt earlier...

It was coming from this.

The heart of Yggdrasil.

Hidden beneath the world.

And it was calling to her.

Reina stepped closer, noticing the faint green radiance blooming across the surface of the heart-like mass. Up close, she saw it clearly—a seed-shaped marking, its center glowing like a tiny emerald sun, delicate veins of light branching outward in intricate patterns.

The heart was no larger than a football, yet the presence it emanated was colossal—ancient, rooted in time older than kingdoms.

"Yggdrasil..." Reina breathed. 𝘧𝓇ℯℯ𝑤ℯ𝘣𝓃ℴ𝓋𝑒𝑙.𝑐𝘰𝑚

The heart shuddered—once, like a long-held breath being released.

Mana circled her, soft at first—then blooming into a subtle current that stirred her coat and hair. A green mist spilled into the chamber, rising like morning fog, and within it the silhouette of a woman began to take shape. Her form was gentle, but vast—like she was carved out of the earth itself. Her long green hair spilled behind her like rivers of vines and her dress seemed to have made out of earth. Her face was also brown with the deep glowing emerald-like eyes and features of divine beauty.

"Scion of the Supreme Aqua Dragon..." A voice spoke.

It was feminine—but there was an age in it. Not frailty. Something closer to eternity.

Reina’s eyes widened as recognition flickered. Ga—

She stopped herself mid-syllable, jaw tightening. She didn’t need the system’s alarms ringing in her head right now.

The figure’s expression softened, as if she understood anyway.

"I welcome you," the voice continued.

Reina inclined her head, formal yet respectful.

The silhouette’s tone warmed—a breeze through leaves after rainfall.

"And I thank you... for the rejuvenating rain you gifted me, child."

Reina felt a small smile tug at her lips. "I’m glad you found it refreshing."

The roots around them rustled—almost like laughter, like the earth itself exhaled.

"I am Yggdrasil," the woman said and Reina gave a slow nod.

"It’s nice to meet you."

The beautiful face of the Goddess like woman slowly blossomed into a smile before she reached out and touched Reina’s cheeks. Reina felt the touch more cool as if fresh dew drops were touching her skin.

"You’re a miraculous child who came here... I shall now rest assured."

Reina was slightly confused, "Is it because of the war situation that the Elves are facing?"

Yggdrasil smiled, "It’s because of the ones who are hurting my children..."

Reina’s eyebrows twitched as she understood whom Yggdrasil was talking about.

"Don’t worry, I’ll get rid of them."

"I know..."

"Do you want me to get rid of them immediately or can I take some time?" Reina asked and a mystical but sad smile appeared on her face.

"You can do as you please."