Death Heir's Devouring System
Chapter 61: Roots of Blood

Chapter 61: Roots of Blood

When Victor warned that what Azrael was about to see might seem strange, Azrael assumed the building’s interior would be unlike anything he had encountered before.

But now, as he stared at the scene before him, he slowly realized they weren’t inside a building at all.

They were inside a giant hollow tree. Dozens of doors led into rooms that formed a maze-like network, while pitch-black staircases spiraled to both higher and lower levels—perhaps crafted by the tree itself. The center of this vast structure made up of floors, stairs, and doors was left bare, offering an unobstructed view to the upper and lower levels. The only thing preventing the Chosen from falling over was the masterfully crafted fence lined at the edge of each floor.

Azrael stepped forward and leaned over the railing of his floor. The tree soared at least ten stories high. Yet what unsettled him most were the crimson flowers resting calmly at the hollow’s base.

He used [Inspect] in order to confirm his suspicion.

Name: [Unnamed]

Race: [Thornmaw]

Danger Level: [Feral]

Corruption Rank: [Twisted]

These were the same plants that had nearly devoured him before he met the Death Knight.

’Who would be mad enough to let them bloom freely in their own base? This is a safety hazard, one wrong move and you’re as good as dead.’

"They’re for defense," Victor said, noticing the confusion on Azrael’s face.

"Not only are they able to dispatch the weaker abominations that may wander below, but they also serve as crash cans. Since no matter what kind of waste you throw into their maws, the acid would dissolve everything."

Azrael nodded slowly. ’This is genius. How can the thought of using the hostile flora against the corrupted monster never occur to me?’

"Once you’re done staring, follow me. There’s something you need to see."

Azrael studied the place for several long seconds; he didn’t miss the chance to observe the Chosen he saw going up and down the floors.

There were notable amounts of Marked System Users. It seemed the ones that hadn’t ended up in Seraphina’s base had found their way here.

’Or they’re dead. Not that I’d be surprised, few would be able to survive in these conditions.’

The Marked weren’t alone. The primary individuals he saw were Proven. Unlike their less experienced peers, they looked hardened and battle-ready, even within their temporary shelter. Their shining armor and weapons spelled that out well enough.

A powerful wave of aura surrounded their well-toned bodies, both protecting them from the vile Corruption and showing their clear superiority over the Marked.

Azrael had spent months in the Moon Breakers, where most students were Proven alongside the Marked. But with his cold demeanor, he’d avoided interacting with them—and even if they outranked him, he hadn’t felt they were much stronger.

The ones here, however, felt different. There was no doubt in his mind that they had gone through much more than normal.

’Well, Raven was of the Radiant Purity Rank, which is an impressive feat from what I know; even Champions aren’t able to reach that Rank of Purity easily.’

Once he was done with his observation, he followed Victor.

"It’s warm," he muttered. "How do you keep such a massive place from freezing over?"

Victor chuckled. "Our insulation is one of a kind."

But his smile faded quickly, replaced by a look of dread. "Not that the cold is our biggest problem. If our defenses had failed, the true threat of these lands would have seeped in and doomed us all long ago."

Azrael wasn’t surprised that these lands harbored more threat than it seemed initially. After all, the Ashen Desert looked like hell until he realized it had just been a basin for an ocean of lava.

They quickly climbed the stairs towards the upper floor; several people passed next to them. The Proven didn’t bother to spare them a single glance, while the Marked gave a short nod towards Victor.

Whether for his strength or his size, the man was definitely respected. At least among the weaker members.

"We are here." Victor sighed, putting a hand over the door positioned at the top of the cave-like network.

Azrael’s eyes quickly shifted to the sign above. It was written in clear human language. ’Observatory.’

With a creak, the door opened. Instantly, Azrael squinted his eyes as powerful freezing air assaulted his face head-on.

"Quick, we don’t want to cool down the inside of the tree too much." Victor urged, taking a step forward. Azrael followed immediately.

"God." He muttered in pure awe, witnessing the scene before him.

’No wonder the wind is so strong here.’

He stood at the crown of the colossal tree. Judging by height, a fall would take at least ten seconds to reach the ground below.

From this vantage, he gained a better grasp of the blizzard-ravaged territory, a truly massive region rivaling the Golden Lands, maybe even surpassing them.

"You are about to see the other reason why we keep Thornmaws at the base of the tree." Victor spoke calmly, unfazed by the view, most likely since he had grown accustomed to it.

Calmly, he sat on one of the benches placed near the edge, eyes locked towards the west.

Azrael mirrored his actions. Wordlessly, the two men watched the sun set behind the horizon as the darkness of the night slowly embraced the land.

"You see." Victor spoke, straining his voice in order for Azrael to hear him since the wind at their altitude was too strong.

"Thornmaws are great at absorbing things... especially blood. That cursed stuff drives people mad if they breathe in too much."

Before Azrael could process what Victor was referring to, his breath hitched.

The sun dipped past the horizon, causing the scenery to shift.

At a rapid pace, the snow began to change hue, going from pale white to crimson. It traveled across the whole area in a flash. The snow wasn’t the only thing affected. The ice changed color as well. The already dead trees seemed to get even weaker due to the sudden change in their surroundings.

In an instant, the blood-red snow reached the hollow tree’s base. But before it could cause harm, the Thornmaws clustered there blossomed and enlarged several times, thriving in the blood-soaked environment like normal plants do under sunlight.

Azrael felt a crushing weight on his chest; breathing became agonizingly difficult. His eyes teared up, and his head began to feel lightheaded.

That was the result of just several seconds of exposure to the blood-stained snow.

"What are we looking at right now?" Azrael questioned, turning his gaze to Victor.

The man’s normal demeanor was gone, an unnatural smile plastered all over his face. A side effect of his Inborn Trait, which made him happy when danger was near.

He waited a few seconds before replying calmly:

"It comes from time to time. If you get caught in the middle, you’re as good as dead. Whatever causes this phenomenon in the west is unknown. We only know that not even corrupted monsters can withstand its pressure for long."

Victor’s gaze moved slowly, settling on the Death Heir.

"We call it Taintstorm."