Chapter 1300: When the Dead Remembered Green
Ethan’s body had already started to break apart.
Black particles skipped across space, appearing behind Lopsy—ready to stop that blade.
But Andona was faster than anyone expected.
She didn’t even turn her head.
The golden blade in her right hand snapped around behind her, carving a sharp arc over her shoulder—and cleanly skimmed across Lopsy’s neck.
Sssht!
Cloth split.
The stitches connecting head to body blew apart, thread and stuffing spraying outward.
Lopsy’s head separated.
Her colossal form lost support and shrank instantly, collapsing back into an ordinary little rag doll that drifted lightly in the air.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Residual attacks struck around her.
But Lopsy’s presence didn’t vanish.
The scattered scissor fragments thinned into needle-fine pieces—like thread and pins—darting around the break and stitching her head back onto her body at a terrifying speed.
The remaining shards formed a rotating shield around the half-repaired Lopsy, blocking any follow-up strikes that might fall.
Bzzzz—
A low vibration rolled in from the front of the battlefield.
A fisherman holding a chain stepped out of the lingering fog.
A treant stood beside him.
Deep green fire still burned from inside the fisherman’s body. His skull turned toward the sky. The treant dragged dry roots behind it, cloudy eyes sweeping the battlefield.
They stopped directly in front of Lopsy.
And then, the Lopsy behind them—still sewing herself up—vanished.
She’d been taken somewhere unknown, continuing her repairs out of sight.
Ethan ended his black-particle state.
His body reformed beside Andona.
He stared coldly at the two creatures who still hadn’t properly introduced themselves, white arcs already flowing across his palm.
The fisherman with the hook moved first.
He grabbed the end of the chain and spun it overhead.
The massive hook swung wider and wider with the momentum. When the force peaked, the fisherman released more chain, hurling the hook into the sky.
The hook tip tore the air, charging straight for Andona and Ethan.
"Gravehook, the Soul Angler!"
His voice carried through the green flame.
"I’ll turn you into collectibles!"
A lantern appeared in his other hand.
It was empty inside, yet deep green fire burned along its rim.
Gravehook raised it beside him and waited quietly—like he was expecting souls to drop into it any second.
On the ground, Seraphina finally regained consciousness.
The stabbing pain near her dragon heart still hadn’t faded, but the instant she saw the new enemy, she tried to force herself back into the air.
Feylora rushed over and pressed down on her wound.
Healing power seeped under the scales, stopping the lingering vibration near the dragon heart from spreading.
"Don’t move."
Seraphina glanced up at the sky, jaw tight, and in the end she could only swallow it and stay down.
Even after burning so much strength, Andona kept both blades raised.
She crossed her swords and slashed.
Two vertical streaks of golden sword light flew out, racing straight along the hook’s trajectory.
Beside Gravehook, the treant lifted an arm.
Dead trees on the ground instantly went feral.
Roots tore free. Trunks surged upward. Branches interwove into a wall in front of the hook—part cover, part hard interception—catching Andona’s sword light head-on.
The golden cuts bit into the wooden barrier.
Bark and holy light ground against each other, neither giving immediately. But the hook behind them didn’t slow—its tip and chain punched straight through the trees and the sword light.
Boom!
Gold light and wood chips detonated together.
The hook kept coming, unstoppable, still aimed at Ethan and Andona.
Down on the ground, Auri didn’t look up at the hook at all.
She was watching the trees that were still going wild.
Auri closed her eyes.
Green sparks spilled from her tiny hands, drifting down onto soil, dead grass, and broken roots.
Where the sparks touched, sprouts emerged.
First a few tender leaves.
Then more and more green pushed up through gray-black earth, spreading outward into the dead forest.
The treant sensed the change.
It stopped supporting the hook attack. Every branch twisted at once, whipping toward Auri.
The treant itself left Gravehook’s side, diving toward the ground.
Ataneya wasn’t about to let it get near her.
All twenty-four fox tails unfurled.
Massive tail-shadows struck from different heights and angles. Even before impact, the air was crushed, branches and dead leaves forced flat to the ground.
The treant was forced to abandon its direct dive at Auri.
It spun its branches defensively, trying to carve out a sliver of space to dodge.
But twenty-four tails sealed it from every direction.
Nowhere to go.
The first tail punched through the treant’s chest.
The second speared in through its shoulder.
More followed, ripping through trunk and limbs until the body was shredded apart.
Ataneya pulled her power back.
The treant broke up midair, branches and splinters drifting down like dead snow.
But the treant didn’t truly die.
Its awareness regrouped inside the remaining roots on the ground. Then, from the soil, it grew a smaller body.
It stood not far from Auri.
Cloudy eyes fixed on the tender sprouts pushing up around them.
On this island of gray, black, and sickly green, that fresh brightness was almost painful.
That living color meant hope.
For a moment, the treant’s chaos receded.
Clarity returned to the bark-formed face.
It looked at the little girl—eyes still closed—continuing to release green sparks.
Two clear streams ran from the corners of its eyes, sliding down rough bark like tears.
The treant lowered its head.
Heat gathered in its core.
It deliberately pulled its power inward, aura turning unstable—telegraphing an imminent detonation.
It meant to end everything by self-destruction.
But just as the core was about to burst, a mass of black fog drilled into the treant from behind.
Gray-black force smothered the newly recovered awareness.
The island’s king had arrived.
The treant’s core immediately stopped its self-destruction.
The clarity vanished from its eyes again.
It lifted an arm. Dry branches exploded from its palm, stabbing toward Auri—who was still completely unguarded.
Up in the sky, Ethan still faced the oncoming hook.
He didn’t form an energy sphere.
Instead, strange green light lit in one of his eyes.
As that light locked onto the hook, the tip’s speed began to drop.
At first, just a little.
Then the spinning chain grew slower and slower, until even the air around it lost its bite.
The hook finally touched the golden blade Andona had raised.
No collision.
No blast.
The instant it met holy light, the hook dissolved into thick smoke, sliding off the sword edge and vanishing into the air.
Gravehook didn’t rage at the failure.
Deep green fire burned in his skull’s eye sockets as he stared at Ethan.
That familiar power.
That near-perfect control.
If he could trap a soul like that in his lantern...
That would be fun.