Chapter 169: The Poisoned Canopy

Chapter 169: Chapter 169: The Poisoned Canopy

Chapter 169: The Poisoned Canopy

Draven left the stone pathways of the human diplomatic sector behind. He moved silently toward the massive, twisting roots that served as the grand staircases into the Elven territory.

The transition between the realms was incredibly stark. The oppressive heat and the sharp smell of burning coal completely vanished. A cool, refreshing breeze swept downward from the upper layers of the World Tree. The air smelled strongly of blooming night-flowers and rich, damp soil.

Draven climbed higher. The stone structures gradually gave way to architecture grown entirely from living wood.

Enormous branches, each hundreds of feet wide, served as the main roads. The Elven homes were not built with hammers and nails. They were carefully coaxed out of the living tree.

Smooth, translucent wooden walls spiraled upward into elegant balconies. Soft emerald light radiated from glass-like blossoms hanging overhead, illuminating the pathways without the need for fire.

It was a breathtaking sight, but Draven did not have time to admire the scenery. He was currently wearing the heavy, clanking iron chainmail of a human guard.

The Elves heavily restricted access to their upper gardens. A lowly human soldier wandering around the high branches would be arrested immediately.

CLINK.

Draven channeled a precise layer of [Vector Manipulation] around his boots. He completely nullified the kinetic force of his own footsteps. He moved like a ghost through the shadows of the glowing leaves.

"Hope they don’t catch me sneaking around here." he said to himself.

A squad of Elven rangers walked past his hiding spot. They wore lightweight, shimmering armor and carried elegant curved bows. They did not notice the human guard pressed flat against the trunk of a massive weeping willow.

Once the patrol passed, Draven continued tracking the familiar mana signature pulsing in his mind.

He moved away from the residential branches and slipped into a highly restricted royal garden. The area was surrounded by thick, thorny hedges. At the center of the garden was a large, crystal-clear pool of water fed directly by the upper aqueducts.

Draven stepped through the hedges and stopped.

The garden was dying.

It was not a natural decay. A patch of glowing silver ferns near the edge of the water was rapidly turning into black ash, crumbling away into the wind.

The thick, twisting vines climbing the nearby trellises were weeping a foul-smelling, dark liquid sap. The roots submerged in the water were aggressively calcifying, turning into brittle gray stone that cracked under its own weight.

’This is similar to the decay I have seen in the powers of those Elders! They definitely are connected somehow.’

Kneeling right at the edge of the tainted pool was an Elf.

She wore elegant, flowing green robes adorned with silver leaf embroidery. Her golden hair was braided perfectly. She held her hands over the calcifying roots, her palms glowing with a soft, scanning diagnostic magic.

Draven stepped out of the shadows. He kept his voice low and steady.

"Embrace the poor, embrace the weak," Draven said.

The Elven botanist completely froze. The glowing diagnostic magic vanished from her hands. She quickly looked around the empty garden, confirming they were entirely alone.

"Embrace the dying as they speak," the Elf whispered back. "Though our fingers drip with a crimson flood. The Embracing Hands wash clean the blood."

Lyra let out a massive, highly ungraceful groan. She slumped forward, completely dropping the elegant, rigid posture she had been maintaining for days. She sat flat on the dirt and aggressively rubbed her pointed ears.

"That’s some long secret Code Captain! You need to think of something shorter next time!" Lyra groaned as she dropped her persona.

"I think it’s totally fine though. And look at you, you are enjoying yourselves aren’t you? That’s some lavish life for you, huh?!" he teased her clearly seeing her pained by carrying the heavy, stiff persona of the Elven Botanical Alchemist.

"You call this a lavish lifestyle," Lyra sighed, looking up at Draven with sheer exhaustion in her eyes. "Try eating leaves as your all time food! I am craving for some meat here, Captain! I am so tired of eating leaves."

Draven offered a faint, understanding nod.

"You should ask Cole for the meat!" he whispered to himself.

"What was that?" she asked.

"Oh! The Elven diet does not suit you?" he asked, clearly changing the topic.

"They do not cook anything," Lyra complained, massaging her lower back.

"And this body belongs to a High-Arbor Botanist named Sylthara. Sylthara is apparently high nobility. I have to walk on the balls of my feet at all times. If I slouch even an inch, the other botanists look at me like I just insulted their ancestors. My spine is in agony."

"You are blending in," Draven assured her.

"Lucien and Cole are facing similar discomforts. What have you found in the water?"

Lyra immediately shifted gears. The exhaustion vanished, replaced by the sharp focus of a master alchemist. She pointed down at the calcified roots and the black ash.

"Lucien’s intelligence regarding Lord Lionel was correct, but he missed the terrifying scale of the operation," Lyra explained grimly.

"Lionel did not just block the gates to cause a drought for the Dwarves. He ordered his agents to dump a highly concentrated toxin directly into the primary Elven reservoir."

Draven looked at the weeping, foul-smelling sap dripping from the vines. "A slow-acting plague."

"Yes," Lyra confirmed.

"It is an alchemical masterpiece. It is designed to mimic a natural fungal rot. The Elven guards think the World Tree is just sick. They do not realize the water is poisoned. If the Elves open the gates to relieve the Dwarves, this toxin will flood the Stoneheart City and kill thousands within hours."

Draven crossed his arms. "And if they keep the gates closed?"

"The toxin concentrates up here," Lyra said softly, her eyes tracing the dying ferns.

"It eats the World Tree from the top down. The leaves turn to ash, the sap rots, and the roots turn to stone. Either way, Lionel wins."

Draven processed the information. A direct military confrontation would not save the tree or the Dwarves. They needed to neutralize the threat at its source.

"Can you cure it?" Draven asked directly.

"The alchemical knowledge I inherited from Sylthara is incredible," Lyra nodded, tapping her temple.

"I know the exact neutralizing recipe. I can brew a purifying elixir that will completely flush the toxin out of the aqueducts. But I am missing the primary catalyst."

"What do you need?" Draven asked.

"I need a Holy Star Crystal," Lyra stated.

"The toxin is laced with dark, parasitic magic. Standard Elven herbs will not break it. A Holy Star Crystal is a gemstone completely saturated with pure celestial energy. It is the only thing capable of burning away the magical binding in the poison."

Draven looked up toward the highest, unseen branches of the World Tree.

"Where do we acquire one?" Draven asked.

Lyra stood up and dusted the dirt off her elegant green robes.

"They are not sold in the markets. The Elven zealots hoard them. The crystals are kept inside the High Temples near the very crown of the tree. The priests use them for their sacred rituals."

"Then we will pay the priests a visit," Draven decided coldly.

"It is heavily guarded," Lyra warned.

"The Star-Priests do not allow outsiders into their inner sanctums. Not even high-ranking Elven nobles like Sylthara are permitted entry without a formal summons."

Draven ignored the warning. He had broken into Vanguard military bases and Cult strongholds. A temple full of priests would not stop him.

"We do not need a summons," Draven said.

"We will find a blind spot in their patrols, infiltrate the vault, and take the crystal. We secure the catalyst tonight, purify the water tomorrow, and then we regroup with the others."

Lyra nodded, reaching into her robes to pull out a small leather satchel filled with her essential alchemical tools.

"Have you located the rest of the squad?" Lyra asked quietly.

"I have secured Cole, Bram, and Lucien," Draven replied.

"They are stalling the Dwarven siege weapon production and mapping Lionel’s corrupted network. But Estella, Reina, Nyx, and Natalie are still completely unaccounted for. My spatial range is severely limited by this human container."

"We will find them," Lyra said reassuringly.

"Once the water is purified, the Elven lookouts will lower their guard, making it easier for you to scan the upper borders."

"One problem at a time," Draven stated.

RUSTLE!

Draven quickly turned his head. He heard the faint sound of Elven armor brushing against the leaves just outside the garden hedge. The patrol was looping back around.

"Lead the way to the High Temples," Draven ordered, stepping back into the deep shadows of the weeping willow.

"Stay in character. I will follow entirely out of sight."

Lyra instantly straightened her spine. She lifted her chin, adopting the arrogant, graceful posture of Sylthara.

She picked up a small silver basket of herbs and walked out of the garden, pretending to be a noble botanist going about her daily duties.

Draven waited for her to pass the hedge. He engaged his vector masking once more and slipped silently into the glowing foliage, beginning the dangerous climb toward the crown of the World Tree.