God's Tree-Chapter 135: The Magic of the Human Soul

Zolgrich leaned back slightly. "Every soul has five trees."

The silence that followed was complete.

Even Kaelred didn't speak.

The lich continued, slow and measured.

"Not all find them. Fewer still understand what they are. But they call, even if the call is never heard. When you follow them, when you prove yourself… they reveal what has always been inside you. Not magic. Not strength. But identity."

Argolaith felt it in his chest—the pulsing echo of the second tree's lifeblood, stored within his ring, dormant but watching.

Zolgrich's gaze never left him. "You have followed two. That is rare. Dangerous. But not unprecedented."

Then Zolgrich's voice shifted, deepening, and the room seemed to grow heavier.

"But the trees were not always what they are now. In the beginning, they were roots of potential. Empty vessels. Until… the gods intervened."

The chamber darkened. The green flames in Zolgrich's eyes flared slightly.

"The gods saw the chaos of the world of Morgoth, saw that mortals—especially humans—drifted aimless through history, dying with unshaped souls. And so, they gave the trees a gift."

A drop of glowing red energy formed in the air.

"A drop of their own blood. Not from war. Not from wrath. But from sacrifice. A willing act to bind fate into form."

He let the drop hover for a moment longer. Then it vanished.

"The trees drank it. And through it, they became what they are now—gateways. Sentinels of choice. Catalysts for change."

Visit freёnovelkiss.com for the 𝑏est n𝘰vel reading experience.

Kaelred's voice was hushed. "So they… were made divine?"

Zolgrich's head turned slightly. "No. They were made meaningful."

Kaelred, who had been silent for far too long, suddenly blurted, "Wait, wait—then why is it that only humans can use the lifeblood?"

Malakar blinked once. Even Argolaith turned slightly, surprised at the bluntness of the question.

Zolgrich didn't hesitate. "Because humans are the only race not born with magic."

The words landed like a spell.

"Elves, dwarves, fae, and others—they are born of magic. It runs in their blood from the first breath. They are shaped by it, bound to it."

Zolgrich's voice lowered. "But humans are blank. A canvas without paint. They possess only potential. And it is that potential the lifeblood awakens."

Kaelred looked down for a moment. "So… we get it because we start with nothing."

Zolgrich nodded slowly. "And so you have the most to gain. Or the most to lose."

A longer silence settled.

Then Kaelred tilted his head again, his voice curious but careful. "So… what were you before you became this?"

Zolgrich didn't move.

But when he spoke, his voice held something rare—memory.

"I was an elf."

Kaelred's brow furrowed. "Seriously?"

Zolgrich nodded once. "Yes. A scholar. One who knew the limits of his own kind. I could touch magic, but I could never shape it freely. I could never reshape fate."

He raised a skeletal hand, the runes along his fingers glowing faintly.

"So I changed that."

Malakar, who had remained quiet throughout the tale, spoke softly. "And you succeeded."

Zolgrich's flame-eyes turned toward him. "And became what I am now."

The weight of Zolgrich's words still hung in the air—truths wrapped in myth, stories older than any civilization, secrets hidden beneath roots and blood.

The flickering green fire in Zolgrich's eyes dimmed slightly as he studied Argolaith in silence.

Then, he spoke again—slowly, deliberately, each word sharpened like the edge of a scalpel.

"You wish to awaken what slumbers within you. To unlock the gift that the trees guard. Then you must understand this… there is only one way to do it."

The chamber darkened, just slightly, as if the stone itself leaned forward to listen.

Zolgrich raised one hand. A spiral of emerald light formed above his palm, then split into five pulsing drops—each the color of living jade, glowing faintly in the still air.

"The lifeblood is not a reward. It is a key. And only when all five keys are gathered—one from each of your trees—can the gate be opened."

The five drops slowly merged into a single orb of light.

Zolgrich's gaze sharpened. "But the gate will not open on its own. It requires a price. Your own blood must join with the five."

Argolaith felt the pulse of the second tree's lifeblood stir in his storage ring—as if responding to the memory of others like it.

"Five drops," Zolgrich continued. "One from each tree that calls to you. Once you have them all, you must mix them with your own essence. Not just a prick of the finger or a scratch on the skin. It must be blood taken from the heart."

Kaelred winced. "Of course it does."

Zolgrich stood from his throne—slowly, silently, the throne folding back into the ice behind him as if it had merely been a part of him all along.

He stepped forward, his robes dragging across the stone like whispers.

"You are not the first. Countless before you have walked the path. Some succeeded. Most… did not."

He waved a hand, and the room changed. Along the walls, visions flickered—men and women from every era, from long-forgotten ages to mere centuries past.

Warriors, wanderers, kings, beggars. All of them standing before trees carved from light. All of them with the same look in their eyes: hope.

"Those who found all five awakened something beautiful. Terrible. Unimaginable. Their magic became their own—raw, personal, shaped not by study but by spirit."

Kaelred whispered, "What happened to them?"

Zolgrich's tone turned grave. "Some became saints. Others monsters. Most simply vanished—taken by the power they were not prepared to carry."

Zolgrich lifted one long, skeletal finger. "But the ritual is precise. One mistake, one misstep… and it will not simply fail. It will warp."

He clenched his fist—and the green light flared, then fractured.

From its center, a shrieking figure formed—its body twisted, its limbs curled unnaturally inward. Its face was not human. Not anymore.

Kaelred stumbled back a step. "What—what is that?"

"Someone who tried… and failed," Zolgrich said calmly. "They mismeasured. Mixed the blood improperly. Let fear cloud the binding moment. And so their spirit unraveled. Their magic turned inward. Now, they exist as a whisper. A curse. A thing that should not be."

The vision vanished.

Zolgrich's voice lowered. "You must be certain. When the time comes, you will only get one chance."

Argolaith said nothing. He didn't need to.

He understood.

"The gods gave the lifeblood to humans," Zolgrich continued. "Not because they were strong. But because they were empty. A blank slate. The other races… they are born with magic, shaped by it before they draw their first breath. But humans…"

He turned, his glowing eyes fixed on Argolaith.

"You were born with nothing. And so you may become anything."

Malakar nodded faintly. "Magic born from will. Not bloodlines."

Zolgrich turned to him, and for a moment, there was the faintest flicker of recognition between them. Old knowledge. Old regrets.

Kaelred let out a breath. "So, to be clear—this thing I thought was just creepy tree sap is actually divine, soul-binding blood magic that has to be perfectly combined with a near-fatal heart wound?"

Zolgrich turned to him without changing expression. "Correct."

Kaelred muttered, "…Cool. Totally normal."

Zolgrich returned to the center of the chamber, the flames in his eyes burning low.

He extended a single hand. "I can show you the ritual when the time comes. The proper runes. The timing. The invocation. But I cannot stop you from failure. I will not intervene."

Argolaith stepped forward. "I wouldn't ask you to."

Zolgrich regarded him in silence, then finally gave a slow nod.

"Then your path is clear. The second tree has been claimed. Three remain."

He turned, and the shadows in the room deepened.

"Find them. Gather the blood. And be ready."

He paused before the throne reformed behind him.

"Because the magic waiting inside you does not sleep. It watches. And when it awakens…"

He looked directly at Argolaith.

"It will either make you into what this world needs—or tear you apart before it ever sees what you could become."