Reborn as a Demonic Tree

Three days had passed since Nightrose City saw a change in leadership. In such a short span of time, the Ashfallen Sect had made their overwhelming presence known. While cultists from the All-Seeing Eye flooded the streets, preaching stories of his past deeds and offering free pills and technique manuals to the masses, the Mudcloaks had been busy.

The initial one-day deadline to replace the half-destroyed castle with a new symbol of power had been extended to three. Even with Douglas working around the clock and with the help of the Mudcloaks, the project turned out to be bigger than any of them had expected. Formations of unknown purpose ran deep below the city. Not wanting to waste the opportunity to harvest so many spirit stones and to sate Guppy's endless hunger, the Mudcloaks had excavated hundreds of meters deep into the earth under the city.

After an entire day and night of digging, all the spirit stones had been recovered, and construction could finally begin. Due to the sheer amount of materials needed, Ashlock actually flew Willow over to Nightrose City and used the Bastion's artillery to blow up nearby mountains and then used telekinesis and portals to transport the pieces over to the Mudcloaks so they could reshape them into useable bricks.

They needed a mountain's worth of materials because the castle and its surrounding land had been so vast that it could have been considered a city within a city. If this had been on Earth, Ashlock had no doubts that the populace would complain, saying a royal family did not need such a large space inside a capital city, and they would have been right. Driving from the front gate to the castle's door would have taken hours, and then you would have had to add the extra hour it would take to traverse the castle hallways to find a meeting room.

Of course, that would have been the opinion of humans born and raised with Earth's standards. Meanwhile, despite resembling Earth in many ways with beautiful nature, blue skies, and the cities of humans, this world might as well be alien. After all, there were no cars in this world, and the Nightrose family certainly hadn't been a typical royal family.

If Vincent was in a bad mood and released his soul pressure, he could crush millions of citizens to death. That was the type of power entire nations wielded, not a single man. Cultivators and mortals simply weren't comparable. The gap between them was that of heaven and earth, so Ashlock doubted the people of Nightrose City had any negative opinions except jealously on the amount of space the Nightrose family had allocated themselves, as living too near to the comparative demigods could lead to a swift death.

Not that the complaints of the mortals would have mattered if voiced, as the words of the Nightrose family had been absolute in this city, and that fact didn't change despite Ashlock taking over.

If he made a castle any smaller or less impressive than Vincent's had been, then the populace would look down on their new rulers. While Ashlock didn't rule through fear like the Nightrose family, he still understood what it took to be respected.

As such, Ashlock had helped with its construction while enjoying a steady inflow of divine energy as citizens watched in awe at such a construction project being completed so fast.

"I never thought Douglas and the Mudcloaks would become a source of divine energy for me," Ashlock mused during the evening of the third day as the building neared completion. In total, he had gained 2700 sacrificial credits from defending himself from the heavens in view of everyone, the efforts of his cult members indoctrinating people, and this construction project. It would have been far more, but he didn't have many credits stored up to multiply in the first place, as he spent them to summon the SSS-grade Netherworld Wraith, who became Nyxalia.

"Boss, the building's exterior is complete, but all the rooms need furniture," Douglas informed him as he flew above the castle, "What do you think? Do you want any changes done while the Mudcloaks are still here?"

"Let me see," Ashlock had overseen most of the building construction over the last few days when he wasn't distracted with concluding the tournament in his Inner World, but it was still a good idea to do a once over now that it was all finished.

The entire structure took up the central third of the city, utterly dominating the comparatively tiny buildings occupied by the mortals that sprawled out around it until the giant walls of the city in the distance.

They hadn't bothered to fill in the chasm they had made in the ground while digging out the formations, instead using it as an endless darkness from which a grand pillar of stone rose. Like a banner planted into the heart of Nightrose City, the defiant pillar flattened out a few stories above ground level, proudly showing off the intricate carvings along its wreath of screaming people looking to the skies and gouging out their own eyes in madness. However, this pillar merely served as the foundation upon which the castle was built.

While he called it a castle, it resembled a Gothic-style church, perfectly melded with a black metal tree that encased it like a butterfly's cocoon. Branches draped in chains fanned out in every direction, giving twisted chaos to the structure that reached for the heavens. It was a blend of human architecture being overtaken by nature despite the entire thing being constructed of cold stone and metal. Impossibly tall, its base was also broad enough to fill up the given space upon the pillar, creating a truly gargantuan structure that symbolized the Ashfallen Sect's dominance over the city.

Around the pinnacle of the castle was a halo of suspended red gemstones sculpted to look like eyes, which were suspiciously sized to fit in the empty eye holes of the statues at the pillar's wreath. It slowly rotated as if signifying the gradual passage of time.

Ashlock then focused on the rest, as while the pillar and castle were the centerpieces, it wasn't all there was to the structure.

Suspended bridges, bound by iron chains and etched with ancient runes, extended from the castle, linking it to innumerable smaller towers that rose from the crater-like spikes on the back of a slumbering eldritch god. These narrow pathways hung over the yawning pit below, reminding all who crossed them of the darkness lurking beneath their feet. Silver light flickered down the length of these bridges as, together with the surrounding towers, they formed an intricate defensive formation that protected the central structure from external attacks built from the recovered spirit stones.

It was one of the most extensive and impressive formations Ashlock had ever seen. But considering what he had seen below Red Vine Peak, he wasn't surprised at how capable the Mudcloaks were at creating runic arrays.

"It's good." Ashlock said, "Though a bit... evil looking? The statues tearing their own eyes out for them to endlessly float around the castle like a crown is a bit much, don't you think? Also, it doesn't look very inviting."

"Mhm," Douglas stroked his chin, "While I agree, this is already the toned-down version. I had to say no to many suggestions the Mudcloaks had when I said we needed to make a building that encapsulated what the Ashfallen Sect and All-Seeing Eye are all about. I'm sorry to say this, but I think we both know it's too late for you to change your 'evil god' image."

"I know." Ashlock sighed, "Maybe the bad weather is making it look worse than it would during a nice summer day?"

As the beast tide closed in, the storm had reached Nightrose City, and without the blood-red dome protecting the city, freezing gales were accompanied by thunderous rain that drummed on the roofs and flooded the streets. Since the beast tide was coming from the north, it would hit all the cities in the Blood Lotus Sect and the Tainted Cloud Sect alongside the cities under Ashlock's control. Nobody was safe, as all these cities sat on the leyline and in the path of the beast tide on its way south toward the Celestial Empire.

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"I have to admit the terrible weather arriving on the evening of you taking over the city and only growing worse since might spawn some rumors as it's only going to keep getting more intense as the beast tide closes in, right?"

"Yeah." Ashlock agreed.

"Speaking of, do we have a plan yet on how to deal with it?"

"I've been thinking a lot over the last few days..."

Douglas nodded expectantly, "And?"

"I got nothing. Well, not nothing, but yeah, it's not looking good."

Douglas frowned, "I know I'm not the smartest in the sect, but I'm always open to lending an ear. Come on, boss, we can think of something. Ain't no way I'm letting Ashfallen fall to some dumb monsters and a bit of rain."

Ashlock sighed as he looked over Nightrose City, guilt tugging at his consciousness. "The problem is I can't save them all."

"You don't have to. Nobody can." Douglas shrugged.

"What do you mean?"

Douglas pointed to the towering docking station in a distant part of the city that was suspiciously empty. "Because we took over the city, all the airships left, and we have a policy of staying and standing against the beast tide. But you need to remember that there are millions upon millions of mortals across all the cities under the Blood Lotus Sect. If I had to guess, over 90% would be left behind to die. The Nightrose family said there would only be a single trip to the new location because Vincent Nightrose wanted to have as much time as possible to progress his cultivation before moving, so even with the increased number of airships, most would have been left to die."

A silence hung between them as Ashlock contemplated his words. While the people of Nightrose City wouldn't know it, being under him would give them a higher chance of survival. But he couldn't save them all. The beast tide would hit multiple cities at once, and he simply didn't have enough powerful people to defend every city. He also couldn't move everyone into his Inner World as it was too small and couldn't produce enough food to feed millions of people that quickly.

"Just focus on what you can do," Douglas said after a while, "I've found that when I do my best, things usually fall into place. Sometimes a problem can seem insurmountable at first, but if you break it down into small enough pieces and tackle them one at a time before you know it, it's as if the problem never existed."

"Huh, who knew you had such deep insights."

Douglas's words reminded Ashlock of his days as a computer scientist when he was taught to break down problems.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Douglas scowled and then laughed, "I get it though. Many people look down on earth cultivators and those who work in construction—labeling them as hard-headed people with rocks for brains. But look at this," Douglas gestured to the castle, "Can you not see and feel the creativity poured into this? It's a piece of art, one of the greatest in all the wilderness, and it was made by me, you, and a bunch of Mudcloaks who can barely string a sentence together. That should sound impossible, but it was made possible because everyone had their job, and we worked together. Even if I had all the power in the world and was a god, I doubt I could complete this in that time frame on my own. At some point, the limit becomes our own minds and how much we can focus on at once."

Ashlock felt like Douglas was speaking straight to his soul and oddly felt a weight lifted from his branches. He had been subconsciously putting the burden of the beast tide and saving millions of people on himself and forgot he was surrounded by many talented, capable people.

"Teamwork makes the dream work," Ashlock muttered a saying from his old world. Just because he was a godly tree with the potential to influence an area spanning the equivalent of a continent didn't mean he had to. He just had to bunker down, survive the coming storm, and save as many people as possible. Then, as Douglas rightly said, everything else would fall into place.

"Thank you, Douglas." Ashlock said sincerely, "I'll go figure out what I can do and get back to you. Also, love the castle."

Douglas bowed slightly, "A pleasure as always, boss. May your brainstorming be fruitful, for all our sakes."

***

Grand Elder Valandor stepped out of the aether into a dark living room. Flashes of lightning from the raging storm outside briefly illuminated the room through the hefty drawn curtains. The furniture seemed new, yet a light layer of dust coated everything, like dirty snowfall. From here, he could see into a small kitchen. Grimy pots likely left out for days were piled up in the sink, and between where he stood and the kitchen tiles was a line of dried blood. Mortal, Qi-less blood. Likely belonging to the people who once lived here.

Following the line, Valandor set eyes on the wooden staircase leading up to the second floor of the two-story house.n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om

"I can feel the disturbance in the aether," Valandor said as he stared at the top of the staircase, "I know you are there, Vincent Nightrose."

A haunting chuckle filled the seemingly empty house. "Good, very good. As expected of the Disciplinary Committee's head." The stairs creaked under an invisible weight, and Valandor felt the hair on the back of his neck rise and the sound of nails scraping on wood.

Slowly, Vincent revealed himself, starting with his gnarled feet. The light bending around him faded with every step, revealing Vincent's terrifying figure. He looked vaguely human, yet the influence of all the bloodlines he had consumed over the years had warped him into something else. His limbs, including his fingers, were just slightly too long. His teeth were like needles, and his skin hung to his bones like a layer of paint. He looked utterly ghastly, and if the uncomfortable noise of him walking wasn't enough, the constant drum of his two spiritual hearts echoed through the room like a drumbeat.

"You're dying," Valandor said as Vincent struggled to descend the final step. "The Ashfallen Sect is going to butcher you and put your tyrannical rule to rest. You know that, yet dare to show yourself before me?"

Vincent smiled wildly, his lips splitting at the edges as he made his way to a chair in the room and sat. "Valandor, you are part of the Ashfallen Sect now, are you not? Yet your actions contradict your words. Here I am, one step in the afterlife. Yet you simply watch." A hint of delight flashed through his sunken eyes, "Go on, Valandor. Try and kill me."

"It would rob Stella of her glory, but very well." Valandor stepped forward, his hand wreathed in burning aether. Vincent didn't move as he clasped his hand around the man's neck, pinning him to the chair, and tried to squeeze the life out of his old master.

But he couldn't. His face twisted in confusion as he tried as hard as he could to command his hand to throttle the life out of this monster in human skin, yet it refused to comply.

Vincent studied his face with amusement. "What's wrong?"

"I... don't know. Why can't I kill you?" Valandor's whole body trembled as he tensed every muscle he could, but it was fruitless. It was as if there was an impossible-to-breach barrier around Vincent, yet he could feel no Qi. This wasn't Vincent's doing. He was simply incapable of killing his old master.

Vincent sneered, "I knew you were compromised ever since you told me those lies about Stella. She is alive, I've seen it."

Why? Why?! Why can't I kill this bastard?!?!

"You thought you were free." Vincent leaned against his hand and whispered in his ear, making his body tingle. "But you never were. After all, a puppet is never aware of their strings."

"No... no, no, no." Valandor stumbled back, collapsing on his back and looking at Vincent, staring down at him from the chair with terror gripping his soul. "That's not possible! I was freed from you by consuming the world tree's sap. I WAS FREE!"

"Really?" Vincent leaned his head on his palm, "Then why are you here? Did you inform the Ashfallen Sect I was here in Darklight City? Why did you come alone and without help?"

"I..." Valandor trailed off. Why had he come here alone?

"Your master called, so you came." Vincent smirked, "Just like a good servant."

Valandor tried to run, but his brain felt clouded. He couldn't focus.

"Now come here," Vincent beckoned with his finger, "As you rightly pointed out, I'm dying. It's time I got a new body, and a perfect one to take over is right before me."

"No, please," Valandor begged.

Vincent raised his hand, and ghostly red strings seemingly made of blood appeared between them. There were hundreds.

"What a disobedient puppet." Vincent pulled his hand back, and Valandor felt his whole body lurch forward along with the strings, and he was forcefully made to grovel at Vincent's feet. The monster reached down, caressing his ear as he went, and his surprisingly strong fingers wrapped around his throat.

"Master, I'm sorry. Please..."

Vincent ignored his pleading and effortlessly pulled him up despite his struggle and looked him dead in the eyes.

"You knew deep down this was always your fate, Valandor. You tried to foolishly escape it by sowing the seeds of war in the sect and raising rivals to me, but you always have been and always will be my spare body. You can't escape my control because you are me."

Valandor closed his eyes and whispered, "I know." It was something he had repressed deeply to the point of almost forgetting his dark past. But it was true. He was nothing but a spare.

"Good boy."

Valandor dared not open his eyes but could hear Vincent unlocking his jaw. The monster's putrid breath assaulted his nose, followed by the horrifying pain of his needle-like teeth piercing his skin, followed by being eaten alive and unable to do anything about it.

Stella, I could never escape my fate, but you and that spirit tree are different. You two are the defiers of fate. I could tell from a glance that you would both laugh in the face of the heavens. If there is anyone who will kill me after I become a monster, I hope it's one of you.

Valandor let out one last soul-filled scream as he was devoured by himself.