Category: This Necromancer Wants to Capture the Hearts of Deceased Beautiful Girls

Chapter 50: The Mightiest Man on Earth

“Is everyone ready? I’m about to begin.”

Abyss turned to face the assembled Druids.

They nodded, their apprentices having informed the nearby mages about the impending mana disruption. Some mages, curious to witness this feat, had even come to observe, hoping to catch a glimpse of the man whose mana capacity supposedly surpassed even the sacred tree. They sat perched in the surrounding trees, waiting.

Abyss had met with Arcaiste earlier. Although the Grand Sage had opposed his plan, he had dutifully made the necessary arrangements. Now, everything was ready.

Within an hour, the Druids had taken their positions. The high-ranking Druids stood nearby, ready to observe the mana flow. Their apprentices, some observing, some maintaining order, while others were still away, informing the nearby cities about the upcoming event.

“I’m counting on you three if anything unexpected happens,” Abyss said, turning to his followers.

Leona, holding Flora’s hand, puffed out her chest. “Don’t worry about us. I’ve given you my word. I, Leona, would split my skull open to protect you. Right, Flora?”

Flora nodded seriously. “I’ll split mine too.”

“I’m ready as well, Abyss. Don’t hesitate. If anything happens, I’ll handle it,” Rebecca said, her voice filled with confidence.

Abyss looked at them, a warm feeling spreading through his chest. These seemingly delicate girls were his most reliable allies. With them by his side, he had nothing to fear.

“I’m about to drain the mana from around the sacred tree. I’ll be focusing all my energy on this task. I’m relying on you to observe the mana flow,” he said, addressing the Druids. “Don’t miss any details. Be vigilant—I have faith in your abilities. Now, let’s begin.”

Without further ado, he began chanting, his body rising slowly into the air, lifted by wind magic, reaching a point halfway up the sacred tree’s trunk, the ideal vantage point for his spell.

He then switched to another incantation, and those nearby felt a shift in the atmosphere.

His previous demonstration had only drained a small area, its effect so swift and subtle that most hadn’t even noticed. This time, however, he was draining a vast area, a task even his immense mana capacity couldn’t accomplish instantly. It would take time.

Some of the high-ranking Druids sat down, removing their clothes, the women retaining minimal coverings, the men completely naked. Unlike ordinary mages, Druids could sense mana flow through their skin, a more efficient method than using visualization spells.

They focused their senses, each monitoring their designated area.

Abyss’s body became a vortex, drawing in the dense mana, its flow so powerful that even the surrounding plants reacted, their branches and leaves swaying towards him.

The mages watching from the trees felt a strange pressure, a suffocating sensation, emanating from him. Their instincts told them to stay away from this human boy floating in the air, lest he drain their mana, their very life force.

It was like the awe and fear a commoner felt before a king. Elves, their society democratic, didn’t have kings, but the word echoed in their minds.

“My god, what power is this? I’ve never heard of such a powerful Druid,” one mage whispered.

“The mana here is thinning. He’s still absorbing it…”

“Someone this powerful could easily destroy our world.”

“Don’t be absurd! What about the Church’s Divine Arts? But… he is strong… Perhaps he’s as powerful as Agnes…”

“No, Agnes was stronger… Perhaps he’s her illegitimate son?”

“Watch your tongue! Agnes was a pure and virtuous soul!”

The mana continued to flow towards Abyss, its concentration in the surrounding area decreasing rapidly. The Druids felt a strange lightness, as if they had stepped out of a sauna, their skin, usually moist from the ambient mana, now dry.

They gulped, some in awe, some in regret, having voted for Abyss’s plan—if he were an enemy, he could easily destroy them all.

Abyss, however, wasn’t having an easy time.

He was constantly absorbing mana, compressing and containing it within his body, then releasing it into the upper atmosphere, where it would slowly dissipate before returning to the earth. This massive influx and outflow of mana strained his magic core. He couldn’t afford any distractions. The slightest mistake could lead to a catastrophic mana surge.

His breathing slowed, beads of sweat forming on his forehead.

And then, as he chanted, his vision went black—something had blocked his sight.

Chapter 49: Someone Stronger Than Abyss

How large was the planet of Hai-Teweru?

Abyss had never measured it. During his travels with his master, the thought had never occurred to him. Most people never considered such things.

Hai-Teweru was a single, massive continent, surrounded by a vast, turbulent ocean, its storms fierce, its magic chaotic, its depths teeming with monstrous creatures, its waters unnavigable. No one had ever attempted to measure the planet’s size—and even if they had, the information would be useless.

The ocean’s powerful sea monsters weren’t the greatest threat. It was the chaotic mana, its energy unpredictable, dangerous to manipulate. Abyss could protect himself from its effects, but even he would struggle against the sea monsters if they attacked.

But now, the problem was solved.

His insect spies had finally reached the end of their journey, mapping the sacred tree’s entire root system.

And it wasn’t just a local network. Its roots spanned the entire planet, reaching even the ocean floor on the opposite side, absorbing the chaotic mana, filtering and purifying it, then channeling it to the tree’s trunk.

Not all the roots grew downwards. Many extended horizontally, emerging from the seabed, drawing in the immense, unusable mana.

The roots’ strength was incredible, protected by powerful magic, allowing them to thrive even in the planet’s core, withstanding immense heat and pressure. Even the hardest rocks were like tofu before them—Abyss’s magically reinforced insects had struggled to penetrate the earth’s crust.

After reaching the ocean floor, their connection to Abyss weakened by the chaotic mana, he released them. They had fulfilled their purpose. And as mindless insects, without true souls, he felt no remorse.

Abyss opened his eyes.

Leona, seeing this, hurried over and began massaging his back, her usual pride forgotten as she anticipated his story. “ABC, ABC, tell me everything! How big is the sacred tree’s root system? Is it really that massive?”

Flora and Rebecca also waited eagerly.

“Yes, its roots span the entire planet. I even measured it. Our planet, twenty thousand kilometers in diameter, is filled with its roots,” Abyss said, nodding. “Over seventy percent of our planet’s surface is covered by oceans, and the sacred tree’s roots emerge from the seabed, absorbing nutrients and mana.”

“And it filters the chaotic mana from the Stormy Sea, transforming it into usable energy?” Rebecca asked.

“Exactly,” Abyss replied. “The sacred tree’s mana source is that seventy percent of the planet’s mana that we can’t normally utilize. I always thought I was the most powerful mage, my mana reserves limitless, but it seems, compared to the sacred tree, my power is finite. Agnes… a true legend. I’m even more intrigued by her now.”

“Incredible!” Leona exclaimed, stopping her massage and leaning against his back, her voice filled with awe, as she addressed Flora and Rebecca. “I always thought Abyss was the strongest, but it seems there’s always someone stronger.”

“The high mana concentration around the sacred tree is negligible compared to the planet’s total mana, not disrupting the balance, but for the Elven Kingdoms, it’s an invaluable resource. The high proportion of high-ranking Druids must be due to the sacred tree’s influence,” Rebecca said, nodding. “Agnes might be gone, but her legacy protects her people. She was truly remarkable.”

“It truly deserves to be called a sacred tree… Astonishing,” Flora said, her voice filled with awe. “Such power, wielded by a single young woman…”

“Then the tsunami that killed Agnes forty years ago must have been more than just a natural disaster,” Rebecca said, her eyes narrowing.

“Perhaps we should ask Miss Agnes herself,” Abyss said, smiling. “My insect army couldn’t pinpoint the source of the problem. All mana sources are chaotic at their origin. I couldn’t distinguish between them. But we’ll still drain the mana around the sacred tree. I need to observe the purified mana flow to find a way to restore it.”

“Do we have anything to do?” Leona asked, comfortably perched on his back, playfully pinching his cheek.

“Perhaps. Just be prepared for a potential attack,” Abyss said after a moment of thought.

“An attack?” Leona asked, confused.

“This isn’t just a natural phenomenon. As the one investigating the sacred tree, I might be targeted. And once I drain the mana, the Druids won’t be able to use their magic to protect me. I’ll need your help,” Abyss explained.

“Don’t worry about your safety. I swear on my honor as a knight,” Leona said instantly.

Flora nodded in agreement. “I’ll support Leona. You won’t be harmed. I’ll do anything to protect you.”

“There’s no need for such dramatic pronouncements, but thank you,” Abyss said, smiling. “And Rebecca, you’re not a fighter. If they encounter something they can’t handle, I’m counting on you.”

“Leave it to me,” Rebecca said, nodding confidently.

“Alright, let’s inform the Druids. It’s time to begin. The weather is perfect. It should put everyone in a good mood.”

Abyss stood up, Leona still clinging to his back, refusing to let go.

Chapter 48: The Scale of the Sacred Tree’s Root System

“The majority abstained, but the ‘yes’ votes outnumbered the ‘no’ votes by three. Therefore, we will adopt Master Belator’s plan and attempt to drain the mana from around the sacred tree, observing its mana flow,” Ambrosius announced, after counting the votes cast using leaves.

Most Druids nodded in agreement, the dissenting minority remaining silent. The vote was considered fair, and they respected the outcome. Only Arcaiste seemed troubled, his mouth opening and closing, as if he wanted to speak but couldn’t. Even as Grand Sage, he couldn’t overturn the council’s decision. It was against their rules, a violation of ancient elven customs.

Abyss looked at Arcaiste, sensing his unease, his unspoken concerns.

What was this Grand Sage hiding? Abyss was curious, but he didn’t press the matter. He had a feeling the truth would reveal itself soon enough.

“The first part of our meeting is concluded,” Ambrosius said, taking over as moderator, since Arcaiste remained silent.

“Master Belator, please explain your plan in detail. When do you intend to begin?”

Abyss thought for a moment. “Give me two days. I’m currently mapping the sacred tree’s root system. I haven’t finished yet. And I need your apprentices to inform the nearby villages about the temporary mana disruption. That’s all for now.”

“Is the sacred tree’s root system that difficult to map?” a Druid asked.

“Well… it’s not easy. Haven’t you tried mapping it yourselves?” Abyss asked, shrugging. “I thought you would be interested in such things.”

“The sacred tree is our most valuable resource. Of course we’ve tried to study it. But its power is too immense. Our root-tracing spells are disrupted by its mana,” Ambrosius explained. “That’s why we still don’t know the extent of its root system.”

“The fact that you’re casually discussing mapping the sacred tree’s root system is impressive in itself,” Arcaiste said, finally speaking. “Haven’t you encountered any difficulties?”

“My methods are unconventional. I can’t reveal them,” Abyss said. “I haven’t failed, but I’ve encountered some challenges. I need more time.”

“Understood. We’ll send our apprentices to inform the nearby villages,” Arcaiste said, standing up. “If there’s nothing else, we’ll adjourn. We all have much to do. Master Belator, I wish you success.”

The Druids rose and dispersed, their conversations continuing, their manners informal. They were satisfied with the meeting’s outcome.

The Sages nodded at Abyss, then left. Arcaiste, however, glanced at the sacred tree, then at Abyss, his expression thoughtful, before leaving.

Abyss leaned against a tree, his mind focused on the information being relayed by his insect spies—thousands of undead insects, their bodies reinforced by his necromancy, now digging tirelessly, following the sacred tree’s roots deep into the earth.

They had been digging for a long time, but they hadn’t reached the end yet.

“How deep have your insects burrowed?” Rebecca asked through their link.

“They’re almost at the planet’s core,” Abyss replied, shaking his head. “The sacred tree’s root system is far more extensive than I imagined. I suspect it spans the entire planet. Its size and its power are truly remarkable.”

“Spanning the entire planet?!” Rebecca exclaimed, her eyes widening in surprise. She had imagined a vast root system, perhaps covering the Elven Kingdoms, but not the entire world!

“Yes, you’re surprised, aren’t you? I was as well, when I first discovered it,” Abyss said, smiling. “That’s why I choked during breakfast.”

“Why didn’t you tell us? This is incredible!” Rebecca exclaimed, leaning against him, her excitement evident.

“I was planning to, but I wanted to wait until they mapped the entire root system. It’ll be… interesting,” Abyss said. “Agnes’s true power is becoming apparent… Her mastery of magic might even surpass my own. It’s exciting.”

“A powerful rival. Aren’t you worried?” Rebecca teased.

Abyss chuckled. “I’m not worried about her power, but about how to befriend her. Based on the legends, she wasn’t exactly sociable. My current companions are quite normal, their thought processes easy to understand. I can treat them like ordinary girls. But Agnes… I’m not sure about her personality. Perhaps I should ask the other Druids, but I doubt they’ll be helpful. She wasn’t very social, even when she was alive.”

“Then it’s time to test your charming skills,” Rebecca said, playfully tapping his nose. “If you succeed, we’ll have another powerful mage on our team.”

Chapter 47: Abyss and the Vacuum

After a moment of stunned silence, the Druids erupted in exclamations.

Abyss had drained the mana from the entire clearing instantly, his speed so great that even Arcaiste, the most powerful among them, hadn’t noticed! This young Druid hadn’t been lying. He possessed incredible power. And he had used the drained mana to create a barrier?

“He actually did it!”

“Don’t use your magic! You only have your internal reserves left! You’ll be drained!”

“Oh, God of Nature, give me strength! My transformation is fading! I’m naked!”

Abyss smiled, releasing his control over the mana. The barrier dissipated, and the dense mana quickly refilled the clearing.

“As you can see, I possess this ability,” Abyss said. “And it wasn’t even a challenge. I assure you, I wouldn’t have made such a claim without the power to back it up. I’m not boasting—I’m simply offering a solution.”

The Druids looked at him with newfound respect, their earlier skepticism replaced by a mixture of awe, admiration, envy, and confusion. Why would someone so powerful reveal their abilities so openly?

Abyss usually preferred to be discreet, but the extent of his discretion depended on the situation. He concealed his true power not out of fear, but to avoid causing unnecessary alarm.

And honestly, even if he wanted to be discreet, few could harm him. Even before meeting Flora, his power had been immense, capable of destroying entire cities. Now, with the combined power of his followers and the Outer Gods he had subdued, he was practically invincible among mortals.

“But wouldn’t draining the mana from around the sacred tree disrupt the ecological balance?” one Druid asked.

“I’ve considered that, but I believe it’s a negligible risk,” Abyss said, holding up a finger. “Firstly, the ecosystem isn’t solely dependent on the surrounding mana. The sacred tree itself regulates the balance. Temporarily removing the mana won’t cause any lasting harm. And I’ll return the mana once I’ve identified the source of the problem, distributing the excess evenly to minimize any disruptions. We just need to warn the nearby mages, so they’re not alarmed by the sudden mana vacuum.”

“That’s true,” the Druid said, considering his words.

Some plants, especially those used for alchemical ingredients, benefited from high mana concentrations, but they wouldn’t die from a temporary absence of mana. They were resilient.

Ambrosius, initially opposed to Abyss’s plan, was now reconsidering, his skepticism waning.

Arcaiste, his usual melancholic expression unchanged, sat in silence, pondering the idea.

“The plan is simple. First, have your apprentices inform the nearby villages about the temporary mana disruption. Then, I’ll drain the mana, and you’ll surround the sacred tree, each of you observing a specific section of its roots. Once you’ve identified an anomaly in the mana flow, I’ll restore the mana. There won’t be any harm,” Abyss explained, seeing their hesitation. “I believe it’s worth a try. If it doesn’t work, we can explore other options.”

“I agree,” Baggs said. Although not universally popular, his position among the high-ranking Druids, sitting near Maggie, suggested he was influential, his power respected.

With Baggs’s support, the other Druids wavered, discussing amongst themselves. Some agreed, some remained skeptical, and some remained neutral—Druids were often indecisive, abstentions common in their votes.

“I… I believe it’s worth a try,” Ambrosius said, his change of heart encouraging Abyss. This Sage, unlike the “stubborn old fogies” Maggie had described, was open to new ideas.

The other Sages expressed their opinions, their views differing.

“Master Arcaiste, what are your thoughts?” Abyss asked, turning to him. “Will you support my plan? At least allow me to try?”

Arcaiste, who had been deep in thought, looked up, his expression still melancholic, his hesitation evident. Finally, he spoke.

“I… disagree. I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

Abyss tilted his head, surprised. He had expected Arcaiste, who had witnessed his power, to be more receptive.

“He seems to have some concerns,” Rebecca said through their link. “I can see it in his micro-expressions. He’s hesitant.”

“What are your concerns, Master Arcaiste?” Ambrosius asked.

“I’m worried about… unforeseen consequences. The sacred tree’s mana is delicate, interconnected. If we disrupt it, we might cause irreparable harm, and we wouldn’t be able to face our ancestors,” Arcaiste explained, his voice filled with worry.

“Very well. Let’s put it to a vote,” Ambrosius said, not allowing Arcaiste to veto the plan. “All high-ranking Druids have a right to vote. Those in favor, those opposed, and those who abstain. Let’s see the results.”

Chapter 46: Abyss and the Vacuum

Abyss’s statement sparked a flurry of discussion among the Druids.

Did this young man truly understand the sheer scale of the sacred tree’s mana capacity? Even a hundred high-ranking mages couldn’t drain it—and what would he even do with all that mana? Create a giant fireball and launch it into space?

Abyss, a calm smile on his face, watched them, grateful for their earlier outlandish proposals, which had made his own suggestion seem less radical. If they had been more conservative, some might have fainted from shock.

“Master Belator, are you serious?” Ambrosius asked, his voice filled with disbelief, as he looked at the unfazed Abyss. “Draining the mana around the sacred tree isn’t something a single person can achieve! The mana reserves here are immense! Even if you could project your image across the entire Ossi Kingdom, you couldn’t possibly…”

“Yes, it’s not a very practical idea,” another Druid said.

“If you had the time and the resources, it might be possible, but…”

“Absorbing so much mana at once could be fatal!”

The Druids voiced their concerns.

Abyss spotted Maggie in the crowd, a fruit in her mouth, likely her master’s attempt to prevent her from interrupting. She gave him a thumbs-up, her eyes twinkling, as if saying, “That’s my ABC!”

A lazy black cat, a knowing smile on its feline face, lay in her lap, its golden eyes watching Abyss. As Abyss met its gaze, it winked, its tail flicking Maggie’s chin playfully.

Abyss smiled back at them, then addressed the Druids. “You might not believe I can drain the mana from around the sacred tree, creating a vacuum, but please hear me out. I’ll explain my plan in detail.”

“Details?” Ambrosius asked, his tone skeptical. Abyss’s arrogance and his outlandish proposal made him feel like he was being mocked.

“Here’s my plan: First, I’ll gather all the mana in this area and compress it. As you know, mana is a natural resource. As long as I don’t use it for offensive magic, there’s no risk of an explosion,” Abyss explained, casually creating a simple diagram in the air with glowing lines of mana: a crudely drawn tree representing the sacred tree, a stick figure representing himself, and a swirling ball of lines representing the compressed mana.

“Then, the next step. I’ll carefully control the compressed mana, maintaining its stability. Once a mana vacuum is created, the sacred tree will naturally draw mana from its surroundings, likely through its roots. So, I’ll need you to observe its roots closely,” he continued, ignoring their skeptical glances.

“If there’s a problem with the mana flow in any particular direction, I can investigate immediately,” he said, spreading his hands. “It’s that simple. Once I’ve identified the source of the problem, we can easily solve it.”

“What about the animals?” Baggs, still perched on Maggie’s lap, suddenly asked.

“I believe the animals’ mutations are connected to the sacred tree. So, I’ll address that first, then investigate the animals,” Abyss replied calmly.

“Master Belator’s thinking is truly impressive. My admiration is boundless,” Baggs said, his voice dripping with flattery, making the nearby Druids cringe and subtly move away.

Ambrosius sighed softly. “Master Belator, your plan is bold, but do you truly believe it’s feasible? Perhaps we should consider more practical solutions.”

“It seems you doubt my abilities,” Abyss said, stroking his chin, then smiled at Ambrosius. “I have a special talent. My mana capacity and control are… exceptional. If you’re skeptical, I can offer a demonstration.”

Exceptional mana capacity? How exceptional could it be? He would likely exhaust himself before draining the sacred tree’s surrounding mana, perhaps even damaging his magic core in the process. Most high-ranking Druids knew their limits. With the current mana density, they could only drain a few cubic meters at most.

“What kind of demonstration?” Ambrosius asked, exasperated.

“If you don’t mind, I can drain the mana from this clearing. If I can do that effortlessly, perhaps you’ll believe I can drain the area around the sacred tree,” Abyss suggested.

The Druids began murmuring again, their skepticism replaced by curiosity.

Abyss’s confidence was hard to ignore.

“Then proceed,” Arcaiste said. “If you possess such power, show us.”

“Oh, it’s already done,” Abyss said, shrugging. “I’ve drained the mana and created a barrier to prevent external mana from entering.”

The Druids tried to absorb mana, but they found nothing.

The entire clearing was a mana vacuum.

Chapter 45: “I Can Do It”

“As you can see, our proposal regarding the animals has surprised many of you. We Druids value balance above all else, but we’ve carefully considered this,” Ambrosius said, calmly addressing the Druids’ concerns. He had anticipated their surprise.

“Since we haven’t found a way to reverse the animals’ mutations, I believe the best course of action is to take control of them, to manage their behavior. It’s not as difficult as it might seem,” he continued.

He was right. High-ranking Druids could monitor vast areas, observing the flora and fauna, not with their eyes, but with their magic. If the entire council mobilized, they could monitor the Elven Kingdoms and even the surrounding regions.

“For the sake of our world’s ecological balance, we must make a small sacrifice, taking control of the animals. There’s already evidence suggesting they’re consuming each other, defying the natural order, to enhance their powers. We must prevent any of them from becoming too powerful, from causing an ecological disaster.”

“But Master Ambrosius, the affected area is expanding. Even if your method is effective, we can’t monitor the entire world,” a Druid objected, raising his hand.

“We’re aware of that, but it’s our only option for now,” Ambrosius replied seriously. “We must maintain control over the Elven Kingdoms, where the mutations first appeared, to observe the animals’ behavior and identify the cause.”

Indeed, the cause of these mutations remained unknown. Understanding how the animals had acquired magic might be the key to solving the problem.

The Druid who had raised the objection nodded slowly, considering Ambrosius’s words.

“We’ve shared our proposals. Now, let’s hear from the others,” Ambrosius said, sitting down.

The other Druids, seemingly well-prepared, began presenting their ideas, a variety of solutions, both practical and outlandish, emerging from their discussions.

Most focused on the sacred tree’s withering.

Some suggested taking cuttings from the sacred tree and planting them elsewhere, hoping they would take root. This was quickly rejected. Although the Druids valued balance, they didn’t want the sacred tree to thrive in other lands, potentially diverting mana away from the Elven Kingdoms. The elves, once naive and easily exploited, had become more cautious, less willing to share their resources.

Others believed the sacred tree was withering due to a lack of divine favor. Agnes, the former Grand Sage, had been blessed by the God of Nature. Perhaps, with her death, his favor had waned. They suggested praying to him, asking him to restore the sacred tree’s vitality. This seemed plausible, but also a bit far-fetched. The God of Nature wasn’t a vending machine, dispensing blessings on demand. And such a specific request? He might respond with a simple, “Don’t tell me how to do my job.”

Few offered solutions for the animals’ strange behavior.

Some suggested surgically removing the magic-granting crystals from their brains. Others proposed culling the most powerful animals. And one even suggested letting nature take its course, even if it meant the collapse of civilization—this suggestion was met with widespread disapproval.

Other ideas, equally outlandish and impractical, were also presented. The Druids, their focus on communing with nature and their reliance on meditation rather than rigorous experimentation, often lacked the logical thinking of mages from other schools.

But their creativity, their unconventional perspectives, fascinated Abyss and Rebecca.

“Master Arcaiste, what are your thoughts?” Ambrosius asked, turning to the melancholic Grand Sage. “We’ve heard many suggestions. Do you have any ideas to share?”

“Yes, but my ideas are quite simple: for the sacred tree, we can try fertilizing the soil. For the animals, we can use parasites to extract the crystals from their brains,” Arcaiste said, his voice somber.

“Those aren’t exactly groundbreaking solutions, Master Arcaiste. I expected more from our Grand Sage,” Ambrosius said, shaking his head, his disappointment evident.

“You’re right,” Arcaiste said, nodding meekly.

Ambrosius was about to continue his criticism when Abyss raised his hand. “I have an idea, regarding the sacred tree.”

Ambrosius, his attention now diverted, stopped his verbal assault on Arcaiste, who looked at Abyss with a hint of gratitude. “Please, Master Belator, share your thoughts.”

“I believe we should drain all the mana from the area around the sacred tree. This will reduce the mana density, allowing us to observe the flow of mana and identify its source. I suspect there’s a problem with the sacred tree’s mana source, causing it to wither,” Abyss explained, his voice confident. “What do you think?”

“That’s… a bit far-fetched, isn’t it? The sacred tree’s mana capacity is immense. No one is powerful enough to drain it, not even all of us combined…” Ambrosius said, his voice hesitant.

“I can do it,” Abyss said, patting his chest.

“…What?”

Chapter 44: The Convention Begins

The Druid convention had finally begun.

All the high-ranking Druids, both residents and visitors, gathered in a large clearing. Each was allowed to bring one apprentice, resulting in a crowd of nearly a hundred.

This was the largest gathering of high-ranking Druids in history.

“Thank you all for coming, for joining us in addressing this potential ecological crisis,” Arcaiste said, his voice somber, his melancholic gaze sweeping over the assembled Druids. He sat on a prominent rock, his position as Grand Sage clear. “I believe that with our combined efforts, we can overcome this challenge and save our world.”

The visiting Druids began murmuring amongst themselves. Abyss and his companions were accustomed to Arcaiste’s melancholic demeanor, but the others, unfamiliar with him, wondered if some unknown catastrophe had befallen the continent, causing such sorrow in their leader.

One of the Sages, sitting beside Arcaiste, spoke. “This ecological crisis hasn’t fully manifested yet. We’re here to prevent it. There’s no need for alarm. Let’s discuss this calmly.”

His words reassured the visiting Druids.

“Thank you, Master Harviges,” Arcaiste said, but Harviges, his face impassive, simply nodded curtly.

“It seems he’s one of those who oppose Master Arcaiste,” Abyss whispered to Rebecca, glancing at her. He had chosen Rebecca to accompany him, her alchemical skills and her recent success with the potion making her a valuable asset. Flora, although skilled in persuasion, wasn’t as well-known among the Druids.

“The atmosphere is tense. They might start arguing. When are you revealing your plan?” Rebecca whispered back.

“Let them present their ideas first. It would be rude to interrupt,” Abyss replied.

“Do as you see fit. I’ll support you,” Rebecca said, winking at him.

“For the benefit of our visitors, we’ll introduce ourselves. I am Arcaiste, Grand Sage of the Druid council, and the moderator of this meeting,” Arcaiste said, his gaze sweeping over the assembled Druids. “I’ll be organizing several more meetings until we find solutions to these problems. Now, let the other Sages introduce themselves.”

The other fifteen Sages introduced themselves. Druids, living in harmony with nature, weren’t skilled at concealing their emotions. Their expressions revealed their true feelings towards Arcaiste. Abyss identified the dissenting Sages Maggie had mentioned.

The one sitting beside Arcaiste, clearly the highest-ranking among them, spoke last. “Greetings, colleagues. I am Ambrosius, a Sage of the council. I look forward to our discussion and our collective efforts to protect our world. We must be proactive.”

He emphasized the word “proactive,” a clear jab at Arcaiste’s passive leadership.

Arcaiste, although likely aware of the subtle insult, showed no reaction, his expression unchanged.

“I didn’t realize their relationship was this strained. They’re practically enemies,” Abyss whispered to Rebecca.

Rebecca nudged him gently. “Stop turning around. It’s rude. Elves value decorum. Use the link,” she said through their telepathic connection.

“Alright,” Abyss replied, then continued mentally, “So, who’s truly in charge here? Does Arcaiste have any real authority?”

“I doubt it. Those Sages clearly don’t respect his position. They resent his inaction. The council likely makes decisions through voting,” Rebecca replied.

“Then I’ll need to convince the majority,” Abyss said, thinking. “That won’t be easy.”

“You’re planning to drain the mana from around their sacred tree,” Rebecca said, her voice amused. “Their entire ecosystem depends on it. They won’t agree so easily.”

“I have a plan. We’ll see if they trust me.”

After the introductions, Arcaiste stood up. “Now that we’ve all introduced ourselves, and I’ve met with our visitors, let’s begin. I know you dislike long speeches, so we’ll get straight to the point.”

He summarized the current situation, then said, “Now, I want you all to share your ideas, no matter how unconventional. We need every possible solution. What are your thoughts on the sacred tree and the animals’ strange behavior? Anyone want to go first?”

Abyss decided to wait, observing the other Druids’ reactions.

The dissenting Sages exchanged glances, then Ambrosius stood up. “I’ll start. My colleagues and I have discussed the current problems and have come up with two proposals. For the sacred tree, we can try returning some of the mana to it, hoping to stimulate its growth and restore its vitality.”

“As for the animals, we propose, setting aside the issue of balance for now, to take control of them, to manage their behavior.”

This was a bold suggestion, sparking a heated debate among the Druids.

Chapter 43: The Unpopular Grand Sage

“Are they on bad terms? I thought Druids were all so easygoing,” Abyss asked, curious. He had assumed the sixteen Sages were united, working together harmoniously.

“Of course not! Do you think we’re all just smiling, all-loving hippies? We used to be criticized by other mage schools for being too rigid,” Maggie said, nodding seriously. “Don’t tell Master Arcaiste what I’m about to say, or he’ll tie me to a tree and scold me again.”

Abyss and his companions exchanged glances, imagining the Grand Sage tied to a tree, likely by Maggie herself, and nodded in agreement.

Maggie, having secured their silence, lowered her voice. “Master Arcaiste might be the Grand Sage, but his authority isn’t universally recognized. Of the fifteen other Sages, eight are indifferent, but the remaining seven aren’t fond of him. They don’t want his position, but they disagree with his leadership, often complaining, sometimes even arguing.”

“What’s his leadership style?” Rebecca asked, intrigued.

“His leadership style is… non-existent,” Maggie said, shrugging. “Haven’t you noticed? He always seems melancholic, lacking energy. He’s always been like this, rarely taking initiative. This crisis with the sacred tree and the animals is the most proactive he’s ever been. Usually, he just sits in his treehouse, doing whatever you ask, but otherwise, he does nothing.”

“He’s incredibly passive, like Emperor Beos of the Western Empire,” Leona said, rolling her eyes, taking the opportunity to insult her useless brother.

“This has resulted in a very… laissez-faire approach to leadership. He lets the Druid council do as they please, offering minimal guidance. He occasionally intervenes to settle disputes—his power is undeniable. He’s currently the strongest Druid in the council, a master of all paths. Every Druid respects his abilities.”

Maggie cleared her throat and continued. “But strength alone isn’t enough. As our leader, he should be more proactive, more involved in the council’s affairs. It’s like he has other priorities—but he doesn’t. He just… does nothing.”

“Aren’t you worried he’ll be angry if he hears you talking about him like this?” Flora asked, glancing nervously out the window.

“Oh, he won’t be angry. He’s very understanding,” Maggie said, waving her hand dismissively. “He might scold me for gossiping, but I don’t mind. He never scolds me for long. And you’re not outsiders anymore. I know about Master Belator’s power. We’re eager to befriend someone of your caliber. So those stubborn old fogies in the council are just being foolish, keeping secrets from you. My master is much better. I told him I wanted to share some information with you, and he immediately agreed. He’s far more open-minded than those secretive elders.”

Abyss was touched by Maggie’s willingness to share the council’s secrets, but he suspected Baggs had simply wanted to avoid her endless chatter.

“So, those who oppose Master Arcaiste simply want him to be a more active leader. He’s the Grand Sage, after all. His words carry weight. But he’s always so… aloof,” Maggie said, her voice tinged with frustration. “He’s a good person, but his work ethic is strange. He just avoids work. It’s maddening. Speaking of avoiding work, let me tell you about the time I went swimming and caught a huge fish…”

“Perhaps we should get back to Master Arcaiste,” Rebecca said, smiling politely, offering her a piece of fruit.

“Right,” Maggie said, taking the fruit and biting into it, then continued. “And another thing, a rather important thing, is his appearance. He always looks so melancholic. No one has mentioned it to him directly, of course. They’re trying to be respectful. But his constant frown isn’t very appealing.”

“I understand. People who are always frowning aren’t very popular,” Leona said, nodding. During her time as a princess, she had encountered such individuals among the nobility. They might attract some girls, but they weren’t well-liked in general.

“He’s a good person, really, but his personality isn’t very… attractive,” Maggie said. “I’ve tried to cheer him up, telling him jokes and funny stories, but he never lets me tell more than one. I always have so many stories prepared.”

Abyss felt a pang of sympathy for the Grand Sage.

“So, there might be an argument during tomorrow’s meeting, but Master Arcaiste never argues, so it shouldn’t last long,” Maggie said. “The Sages’ disagreements aren’t a secret. We’re used to it. I just hope it doesn’t alarm you.”

“I’ll try to prevent any arguments,” Abyss said, smiling.

“How? Are you not just a powerful Druid, but also a skilled therapist? Can you resolve their conflicts?” Maggie asked, surprised.

“Resolving their conflicts would require understanding Arcaiste’s personality and the other Sages’ needs. I’m not planning to do that, and I’m not a therapist,” Abyss said casually. “I can simply distract them. You’ll see what I mean tomorrow.”

He was planning to drain the mana from around the sacred tree, a proposal that would surely shift their focus from their petty squabbles. He wouldn’t abandon his plan, even if it was a bit unconventional.

Chapter 42: A Late-Night Chat in the Treehouse

Potion production proceeded smoothly. With the help of nearby villagers, the Druids had produced enough potions for all the hunters in the Elven Kingdoms before the council meeting. The potions would last them a week, even with frequent hunting. With the typical hunter only venturing out every few days, the supply would last even longer.

The potion crisis averted, the Druids expressed their gratitude to Rebecca, offering her valuable jewelry as a reward, which she politely declined, preferring the Elven Kingdoms’ abundant herbs and plants.

With the potion production complete, Abyss and his companions finally had a chance to relax.

It was late at night. The last of the summoned Druids had returned, and the first High-Ranking Druid Convention of Hai-Teweru was scheduled for the following day. The reclusive Druids of the council and the wandering outsiders, gathered together for the first time, would discuss the current crises. The visiting Druids in the nearby treehouses were excited.

Even at this late hour, hushed conversations could be heard from the surrounding treehouses. Abyss, who didn’t require sleep, sat with his three followers, enjoying the moonlight filtering through the leaves of the sacred tree, their conversation flowing freely. He had much to discuss with them now that his memories had returned.

“I always thought your experiences shaped your personality, but even without your memories, you’re still the same,” Rebecca said to Abyss, smiling. “I’m even more curious now. How did you become who you are? Were you always like this?”

Abyss thought for a moment. “I never really considered it before. But now that you mention it, I was always like this, as far back as I can remember.”

“So you always knew you were special, which is why you’re so nonchalant?” Leona asked, raising an eyebrow. “That’s just like me.”

“I was more energetic when I was younger,” Flora said. “But as I grew older, under His Holiness’s tutelage, I became more reserved. This conversation makes me miss my childhood.”

“I was always carefree. I knew I was talented, but I wasn’t like Abyss. I was arrogant, looking down on other alchemists, believing I could achieve anything,” Rebecca said, her expression turning serious. “But after that incident, I became more cautious, even paranoid.”

“You struggled with sharing your formula with the Druids, didn’t you?” Abyss asked.

“How did you know?” Rebecca asked, a smile playing on her lips. “I didn’t show it, did I?”

“I noticed the details. First, you repeatedly asked for their assurance that they wouldn’t share the formula with anyone. Second, you were wary of the elven volunteers, assigning them simple tasks, not allowing them near the core ingredients,” Abyss said, holding up two fingers. “You’re still protective of your formulas. I’m not criticizing you. I admire your willingness to overcome your fears and help others.”

“You’re trying to flatter me, aren’t you?” Rebecca said, laughing. “Well, it worked!”

“I meant every word,” Abyss said, shrugging. “I’m not one for insincerity.”

Leona was about to fish for compliments, perhaps even a head pat, when her sharp ears detected the faint flapping of wings. Something was approaching their treehouse.

She looked outside.

A small bat was flying towards them. “ABC, there’s a bat coming this way. Should I catch it?” she asked.

“A bat?” Abyss asked, glancing outside.

Rebecca sniffed the air. “No need, Leona. It smells like someone we know. Can you smell it?”

Leona sniffed curiously, detecting a faint, familiar scent carried by the night breeze, a subtle fragrance of herbs and flowers—Maggie.

They hadn’t seen her for a few days. Now, she was coming to visit them.

The bat landed on the windowsill, its small body silhouetted against the moonlight. “Mr. Belator! Miss Leona, Miss Flora, Miss Rebecca! I’m here!” Maggie’s voice, high-pitched and squeaky, came from the bat’s mouth.

“Welcome back,” Abyss said, smiling. “Come in and have a seat.”

“I’ve been busy calming the locals, so I haven’t had time to visit. I just finished my work this afternoon,” Maggie explained, transforming back into her elven form as she jumped off the windowsill. Back in the Elven Kingdoms, her attire was even more revealing, just a few pieces of animal hide covering her essentials, her skin adorned with patterns drawn with herbal dyes. “It wasn’t easy. Those villagers weren’t very receptive at first. But they eventually listened to our advice and agreed to avoid contact with the wild animals.”

“It seems the Druid council is quite busy,” Leona said. “I thought you were just playing and hadn’t returned yet.”

“That hurts, Leona! I’m not that irresponsible,” Maggie said, her voice slightly hurt. “I came here tonight to tell you something important—the Grand Sage has been arguing with the other Sages. Be prepared for tomorrow’s meeting. Things might get heated.”

Chapter 41: The Roots of the Sacred Tree

The alchemical golem, a perfect replica of Abyss, emerged from the magical catfish’s mouth. Abyss, using his magic, established a connection with the golem, controlling it remotely. For someone capable of manipulating millions of puppets, controlling a single golem was effortless.

He sent the golem back to the work area, then, casting an invisibility spell on himself, set off on his own errand.

He wasn’t planning anything grand or world-altering. Having recovered his memories, he simply wanted to give his followers some gifts, a small token of his appreciation for their companionship and a celebration of their victory against the Lord of Nightmares.

Based on his past experiences, he decided on flowers.

The soil around the Druid council was incredibly fertile, its vegetation lush and vibrant, thanks to the sacred tree’s influence. Flowers of all shapes and colors bloomed in abundance.

He carefully selected a variety of flowers, three of each kind, one for each of his followers. As he plucked a small, resilient flower, its stem accidentally coming loose, its roots exposed, he paused, a thoughtful expression on his face.

This small flower, common throughout the continent, was known for its hardiness, thriving even in harsh conditions, its small, unassuming blossoms surprisingly beautiful.

He examined its roots, their size and complexity far exceeding those of ordinary flowers, a network of fine tendrils designed to absorb every drop of moisture, a crucial adaptation for survival in less hospitable environments. Although unnecessary here, beneath the sacred tree’s protective canopy, this trait ensured its survival in other regions, clinging to cliffsides and thriving even in the icy plains of the Western Empire.

Looking at the flower’s roots, he thought of the sacred tree, the largest living organism in Hai-Teweru. Its immense size, its ability to sustain the surrounding ecosystem, suggested an equally vast and complex root system. Magic couldn’t be created from nothing. Perhaps the sacred tree drew its power from the earth itself, its roots absorbing mana from across the world, filtering and purifying it before releasing it back into the environment.

If so, examining its root system might be the key to solving its withering.

Abyss, a man of action, immediately began his investigation. Using a fallen branch as a makeshift shovel, he dug into the earth, finding a few dead earthworms.

After glancing around, ensuring he wasn’t being observed, he chanted a spell, reanimating the earthworms.

Empowered by his magic, their movements no longer slow and sluggish, but swift and precise, they burrowed into the earth, their task to map the sacred tree’s entire root system. They would awaken other deceased insects along the way, their combined efforts creating a detailed map, without harming any living roots.

Their findings would be relayed to Abyss’s mind, giving him a comprehensive understanding of the sacred tree’s hidden network. However, their progress would be slow. They might have completed their task by the time the Druid council meeting began.

Satisfied with his preparations, he resumed picking flowers.

As he finished, his alchemical golem, still working alongside the Druids, suddenly slapped its forehead. “Ah, I apologize, I need to excuse myself again. I’ll be right back,” it said to Leona.

Leona, realizing that the real Abyss had completed his task, nodded. The golem turned and left.

The Druid who had asked about Abyss earlier looked at Leona, his expression understanding. “Ah, it seems his stomach problems are quite severe. He just left, and now he’s going again.”

“Yes, it’s his own fault for eating everything in sight,” Leona said, giggling. “Let him be.”

“He’s a high-ranking Druid. Why would he have such problems?” the Druid asked, puzzled.

“He eats a lot. He has a bad habit of consuming anything and everything. That’s why he has stomach problems. Don’t worry, he’s quite resilient,” Leona explained, making up a story.

Flora wanted to correct her, but it was too late. The Druid seemed fascinated by this “eccentricity.”

If she told him Leona was lying, he wouldn’t believe her. After all, people only heard what they wanted to hear.

Soon, Abyss, having swapped places with the golem, returned, his arms filled with flowers.

“I apologize for my absence. I was picking some flowers. These are for you,” he said, smiling, handing the flowers to Leona and Flora. He then went to find Rebecca.

As he walked away, the Druid whispered to Leona, “Why did he pick flowers while… relieving himself? Don’t you find it strange?”

“Uh…” Leona, caught off guard, stammered, “It’s not strange… We’re used to it…”