Chapter 32 – All Roads Lead to the Tree

The land had begun to change.

It wasn't anything visible at first — no grand shift in terrain or cataclysmic sky-rending sign. But something deep beneath the surface... something ancient had stirred. The closer we moved toward the center of the map, the more the Tree began to assert itself.

Birdsong grew rarer.

The wind carried whispers instead of warmth.

Even the light seemed older.

We had left behind the blooming wilds of the Spring Quadrant days ago, entering the borderlands where all four seasonal territories began to blend. One moment the trees shimmered with spring's pink blossoms, the next we were walking past amber leaves and frost-laced ferns.

And we weren't alone.

"We're being watched," Freya said, perching on a gnarled root with narrowed eyes. In her human form again, her pale skin looked paler than usual beneath the shifting sun. Her sharp eyes scanned the treeline. "Too many scents. Too many kinds."

She wasn't wrong.We'd seen shapes in the distance — travelers, hunters, small bands of survivors. Most didn't approach. Some fled at the sight of us. Others... just stared. Like they were all following the same unseen pull.

"The Tree," Lyssira murmured. Her green hair shimmered as she knelt beside a mossy stone, glyphs faintly pulsing on her forearms. "It's calling them too. Not just us."

I nodded, though my thoughts were tangled.Even after everything — the battles, the evolution, Seraphine — I was still adjusting. Adjusting to power, yes… but more than that. To expectation.

I wasn't just a participant anymore.

I was a Drakaryn. A dragon reborn. A chosen.

And apparently, a symbol.

"Does that scare you?" Lyssira asked, as if she'd plucked the thought from my mind.

"...Yeah," I admitted.

The trail narrowed ahead. We moved carefully, weaving between tall trees whose roots were as thick as buildings. Then suddenly, the air shifted — dense and silent, like a breath being held.

We emerged into a clearing.And there, in the distance, rising like a mountain of light and bark and memory, was the Tree.

No words could describe it.Not really.

It wasn't just tall — it reached. Its trunk seemed to vanish into the clouds, its branches like arms embracing the entire map. Leaves shimmered with every color imaginable, and the air around it was... heavy. Awake.

And under it, they gathered.

Dozens. Hundreds.Figures of all shapes and sizes, from every race we'd encountered and many we hadn't.Some sat in groups. Others paced. Few spoke. The silence was reverent — or maybe fearful.

Everyone was waiting.

Freya folded her arms. "So this is it."

"No," I said. "This is just the start of something worse."

Then the sky broke open.

A swirling spiral of purple light formed above the Tree's crown, warping the clouds and space around it. A ripple of force made the crowd flinch, weapons drawn, hearts racing—

Then a voice laughed.

"Miss me, insects?"

Lunaria Vel Syntra descended in a shower of starlight and cosmic flair, her uniform somehow even more exaggerated than before — gold-threaded sleeves, thigh-high boots, and what looked like floating medals orbiting her like planets.

She hovered above the crowd, arms stretched.

"Congratulations, participants! You survived long enough to make it here. You've slain, struggled, betrayed, and bled your way to this very moment... and now I bring you the final opportunity!"

Murmurs rippled. Someone muttered something in another language. A flame-wielder cursed under his breath.

Lunaria grinned. "Behold... the Arena of All!"

The ground beneath us rumbled. A massive chunk of earth rose from the ground, floating high above the Tree, encased in shimmering energy. Stands formed. Spikes. Walls. Glyphs. Blood and beauty.

"This is a free-for-all," Lunaria continued. "Anyone may enter — Prospect or not. No teams, no rules, no mercy. The last one standing... wins."

She twirled midair, her long hair whipping like a comet's tail.

"The Tree will reward only one. And that wish — any wish — will be granted."

Then, her voice grew sharp.

"Prospects, beware: Your title is no protection. In this Arena, the strong reign. If someone stronger rises... you lose everything."

My heartbeat thundered.

All of it — the trials, the suffering, the deaths — had led to this.

Freya's jaw clenched. "She's insane."

Lyssira looked to me. "What do we do?"

I stared up at the Arena above us.The crowd murmured, then slowly... began to move.

Some approached the base of the platform.Others retreated, terrified.

But I didn't move.

Not yet.

The Tree had made its choice.

But now... so would we.