Gardenia’s Heart
Chapter 124: The Seal

The entire forest floor trembled as if the world itself was turning upside down, while yet another massive cloud of smoke rose into the sky.

"Alright everyone, it's time to put a little more energy into this!"

Dressed in a long gown that left none of her curves hidden beneath a ceremonial white armor, the red-eyed demon clapped her hands repeatedly, cheering on the many people kneeling around her.

Like a conductor leading a grand symphony, Belladona moved her fingers in several directions. More powerful explosions erupted throughout the forest as she enthusiastically raised her hands to the sky, a wide smile spreading across her charming face.

"So beautiful! So delightful! So wonderful!"

Each of her words was followed by several screams. Even from the royal palace, the frightened cries and agonized moans of elves echoed through the air.

"Lady Belladona."

A male voice came from behind her.

Taking her eyes off the burning city, Belladona looked down beside her. Among the many armored corpses knelt an old man with a long beard.

"Haldrion... was that it?" For a brief moment, a hint of uncertainty crossed the demon's expression, but she quickly masked it and raised her voice. "Are the preparations complete?"

"Yes. Unfortunately, we lost about half of our companions in battle, but everything was done exactly as you instructed. Our long-awaited change in this wretched society is about to begin." Lowering his head, the man spoke with euphoric eyes, clearly excited.

"Excellent~"

Humming a tune, Belladona turned to the eastern side of the forest. The sunrise, which should’ve soon lit the horizon, had vanished—replaced by a colossal wall of mist, like a tsunami, devouring everything in its path.

"It’s time, my darlings~ Let’s go."

With light, skipping steps, the woman walked across the blood-soaked ground, promptly followed by several elves armed and ready.

"Focus on the medics and cut off communication lines. Just a few stabs in the back here and there, and the so-called Royal Elven Guard is no more. What a joke."

A scornful smile formed on Belladona's face as she kicked away several metal helmets, tearing heads from their necks as if they were mere pebbles by the roadside.

Without even avoiding the palace garden’s flowers, the demoness crossed to a suspension bridge. Majestically towering before her was a colossal tree, its golden aura glowing even through the night.

It took no more than a few minutes for Belladona and her entourage to cross the arched bridge and reach the roots of the World Tree.

The greatest tree of all, growing on an island in the middle of the city, was surrounded on all sides by water. Though its trunk was wider than the city itself—perhaps even larger—the place she needed to reach could not have been clearer.

Built directly into the ancient wood stood an arched golden door, flanked by pillars rising into elegant curves. And right beside it, a pink-haired girl was being held by two elven guards.

"Hello, my little darling. Sorry for the rough treatment, but I can’t exactly use ropes or shackles on you."

Approaching her precious guest, Belladona traced the girl’s chin with her fingers, until her entire hand gently cradled the elf's flushed cheek.

"W-What do you want with me?" Zaylin struggled to form words.

The young elf had no idea what was happening.

For the first time in her life, she was standing at the base of the World Tree—a sacred ground forbidden to all without permission. And yet, what should’ve been an honor was now stained by the terrified screams of the citizens of Lampides.

Smoke rose in pillars, the metallic stench of blood filled her nose.

The barrier that once protected the forest had vanished, and a dense gray mist now spread through the city.

The monsters of the forest—once kept at bay by the magical wall—were now approaching fast, forcing their way through shattered breaches in the walls.

Her parents, her family... were they even still alive?

Was this the worst-case scenario the Sage had once predicted?

It felt as if the world were ending.

And for a girl who had only ever known this forest... there was no other way to describe what she saw before her eyes.

When she followed her friend into the night, she never expected to end up in a situation like this.

Upon being discovered, she thought she would be executed. But when she awoke from unconsciousness, she found herself flanked on either side by what should have been her fellow squadmates. She had been taken prisoner without even understanding what was going on.

“Eck...” Zaylin groaned as her back arched with a shiver.

Leaning over her body, Belladonna pressed her lips directly against the elf’s pointed ear.

“Just stay still a little longer.”

Pulling back, the demoness gave her a slow wink that was more command than suggestion.

Zaylin wanted time to understand the situation. Even if she was nothing more than an ant compared to that existence, she was still a soldier. Surrounded by traitors or not, there had to be something she could do.

Her clouded mind struggled to form a plan—anything at all. No mana-suppressing shackles bound her. The men holding her were soldiers, but not elite ones. She could break free. She could escape.

However, Zaylin didn’t even have the chance to react. Before she could gather the smallest trace of mana, her entire body froze.

It was an impact—extremely soft.

That was all.

It wasn’t grand or loud.

Something had descended from the sky and landed among them.

Just the sound of two bare feet touching the ground.

And that alone was enough to make everyone in the room smash their heads to the floor simultaneously, even if it meant fracturing their skulls.

“It is an honor to finally receive you, Master Drelkos,”

Belladonna was the one who raised her voice, but Zaylin could no longer bring herself to care about the demoness.

“That wasn’t a bad job.”

Because the voice that followed twisted all her organs until blood spilled from her lips.

Her head, firmly planted against the ground, shifted just enough to keep the pooling blood from suffocating her—but that movement also forced her to see the being before her.

His almost gray body was split between that of a man and something abyssal. From the chest down, his pale, firm skin was marked by defined muscles and steady breathing. But from both arms up to his collarbone and the base of his jaw, everything was covered in a black, organic carapace—as if darkness itself had poured over his body and turned to stone. The texture resembled living coal or obsidian, forming a natural armor fused with his very flesh. His hands, grotesquely enlarged by the massive black gloves he wore, looked like weapons—each finger resembling a piece of living metal.

At his waist, overlapping armor plates shaped like scapulae were fastened with white leather straps stained with ash. His pants were made of dark, heavy fabric, loose and wide-cut, allowing for agile movement.

The man, whose face looked no older than his early twenties, had white hair falling over indifferent crimson eyes. From each side of his head, a twisted black horn curved downward.

The warrior advanced in silence until he stood inches from the door. Drelkos slowly rotated his wrist and closed his hand. His bare feet, wrapped in cloth, anchored themselves to the floor as his knees bent and his right arm rose.

Each metallic finger curled like solidified shadow, and the aura emanating from his arm seemed to warp reality itself, making the air around him tremble.

Then, he threw a single punch.

His fist struck the arched door like a dry thunderclap. The World Tree quaked. A shockwave burst outward, pushing everything around him—every branch, every leaf, every blade of grass—with such force that it was as if a storm had just been born.

And then, silence.

Leaves drifted from the sky due to the impact, and part of the ground had caved in, but the thing that had stepped in front of the demon remained completely unscathed.

“That dwarf really did create something troublesome,” Drelkos remarked dryly, in the same tone one would use to talk about the weather.

Still on the ground, no matter how much Zaylin stared, she couldn’t react.

Just like a single leaf cannot comprehend the whole forest, she found herself paralyzed—crushed by the sheer pressure of the existence before her.

There was no fear.

Fear arises from irrational anxiety brought on by the awareness of danger.

But her mind, unable to even grasp what she was seeing, was so stunned that she might already be dead and not even know it.

It felt like something fundamentally beyond what her understanding could reach.

And now, that being was looking at her.

“So this is the fairy who developed the concept of freedom?”

The voice, as if it had come from the abyss itself, struck her dazed mind and forced her to move her pupils to the side. Before she even realized it, a pink orb was orbiting around her. Maple, her fairy, was desperately trying to pull her away, her small body trembling under the overwhelming presence surrounding them.

“Exactly, Master,” Belladona chimed in cheerfully, running over to Zaylin and dragging her off the ground with a smile, bringing her to Drelkos’ feet.

A dull thud echoed as Zaylin's knees were slammed into the floor, her head forced up by a hand on her neck, making her face the man towering over two meters tall.

“Originally, the plan was to use Orlaith’s latest invention to destroy the outer seal.” He traced a metallic finger along her delicate face, his piercing eyes radiating a curiosity that felt almost tangible. “However, since she got distracted by her little fun and delayed the development of any new Chaos Seed for years, it was fortunate another option presented itself.”

There was no anger in his voice, not even contempt, but it was enough to make Zaylin feel as if her body were on the brink of collapse.

“Now, now, darling, it’s time for you to shine~” Belladona pressed her closer to her chest and extended her free hand toward the door. “Open the seal for us.”

“...What?”

The question that slipped from her bloodied lips was genuine.

“Come on, no need to overthink it. That’s your specialty, isn’t it? Just order your fairy to unlock that door. It’s not so hard to understand.”

Zaylin’s mind went blank for a few seconds.

The door? That was it? That question began to pound in her head as the demoness’s grip tightened and her smile grew sharper.

Zaylin could barely breathe in that position, but the little oxygen reaching her dizzy brain was enough for her to be sure she couldn’t do it.

Not even Zaylin knew what that door truly was—but if it was valuable enough for them to wreak such destruction upon her city, she could not allow it to be opened.

And in that moment, as if her answer had already been decided before it was spoken, the demoness holding her let out a short sigh.

“Very well, it seems we’ll need some... motivation.”

Letting her drop to the ground like a rag doll, Belladona turned toward the wooden bridge that connected the royal palace to the World Tree.

“Well, look at that—we have a visitor!”

Zaylin’s eyes widened, and her mouth dried like a desert.

Dragged by a young man with blue hair, a green-haired boy with a defiant look thrashed around violently.

“Faelion, let me go, you bastard!”

His wrists were bound in shackles, and the blood trailing down his face made it clear his wounds were fresh.

“Kelios!” Zaylin’s voice rang out above the boy’s desperate screams.

The fear that hadn't reached her until now struck her all at once. Her heart, gripped by adrenaline, pounded so hard that every beat echoed in her ears as cold sweat ran down her back.

She forced her knees to the ground and reached out toward the boy—only for her field of vision to be filled by Belladona’s face.

“Break the seal, my sweet thing, or do you not care about your best friend~?”

The words dripped like honey—and the sound of flesh being pierced followed right after.

“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaargh!”

A scream burst from Kelios’s throat like thunder. Without hesitation, Faelion stabbed the boy’s shoulder repeatedly with a knife.

As if it were a performance staged just for her, Zaylin watched from the front row as the emotionless blade struck the boy again and again. Whether it was his back, face, shoulder, or knee, each time the weapon met the soft flesh of the boy’s body, another cry tore through the air.

“No... No... Please, stop!”

Zaylin couldn't believe what she was seeing.

She was a soldier. She knew what torture was. Every strike had been deliberately calculated to avoid delivering a fatal wound. There was no point in letting him die before they got what they wanted.

But knowing that didn’t make watching her friend be brutally wounded any easier.

“D-Don’t do what they want, Zaylin!”

The boy’s trembling voice finally reached her.

Kelios clenched his teeth so hard that a thick stream of blood burst from his mouth, mixed with bile from his stomach. Even with a knife plunged into his scapula, his mind still managed to process what was happening. He didn’t know all the details, but he understood enough to realize—they wanted something from that girl.

“Kelios... I...”

Zaylin struggled to form words—any words—but her trembling voice wouldn’t allow it.

A laugh echoed then, almost as if trying to help her.

It came from none other than Belladona.

“A brave boy like that is rare. I’m getting emotional!” As if wiping away a nonexistent tear, the woman slid her index finger across her eye. “Well then, it looks like we’ve finally reached the fun part!”

She twirled her fingers through the air again, strolling back and forth.

“Let’s be honest. For a race that excels in healing magic, cutting off an leg or gouging out an eye wouldn’t be enough, right? As long as there’s hope that magic can repair the damage, your resolve won’t falter—no matter how much blood he sheds.”

She stopped then, folding her hands behind her back and leaning forward with a sweet smile.

“So... how about something irreversible?”

A heavy thud hit the ground.

The stage was fully set.

Bound just like the boy, the unconscious girl had black hair and wore a white lab coat. A bruise on her head perfectly marked the force of the blow that had knocked her out.

“As expected from a general’s daughter—she killed several of my men before being captured.” Belladona sat atop the unconscious elf, her body covered in purplish bruises, and casually crossed her shapely legs.

“Klara!” Kelios screamed. “Get off her, you bitch! I’ll kill you! I swear I’ll kill you!”

Kelios roared with fury, but it only made the smile on Belladona’s face grow wider.

“Isn’t love beautiful? Just a moment ago, he was in so much pain he could barely speak, but the mere sight of his fiancée was enough to ignite such a fierce spark of life!”

Without giving the boy any more attention, she drew a silver dagger from her waist and brought it to the elf’s throat. The blade glided carelessly across her neck, slicing the surface of her skin and drawing blood with ease.

"But can they still have a future together, filled with love and adorable children, if she’s already dead? Of course, the answer to that question lies solely in your choice~"

It wasn’t an empty threat.

They had no qualms about killing her—after all, they didn’t need the elf.

Her heart raced, and all air fled her lungs. She tried to turn her head, to cry for help—but before Zaylin’s eyes could even refocus on the boy, Kelios’ mouth had already been silenced.

This wasn’t a negotiation, and Zaylin understood that now.

That demoness would kill them one by one until she got what she wanted, making sure Zaylin remained alive just long enough to witness everything she once cared for be reduced to ashes.

Whether the girl lived or died was now hers alone to decide.

Her vision blurred, and tears streamed down her cheeks like thin lines.

She couldn’t save them unless she did something.

In the end, that’s what it all came down to.

“Maple… open the door.”

She whispered those words.

The fairy, who hadn’t left her side even after everything, looked at her with fear. But Zaylin forced a tear-streaked smile and nodded.

There was no way Maple could refuse that request.

The pink orb floated across the blood-soaked field and stopped before the door.

There was no lock, no chain—just a solid wooden structure without a single mark.

It didn’t matter whether it was a simple shackle or the world’s strongest seal. As long as it was a binding that restricted something’s freedom, Maple could open it.

Receiving mana from her contractor, the fairy’s glowing body expanded. And then, it happened.

Like a light show, hundreds—if not thousands—of glowing glyphs appeared in the air, spinning and shifting into ever-changing shapes, like something being rewritten.

Each sigil eventually merged into one, converging toward the door and sinking into its core.

A dull, dry, and final crack echoed out.

At first, everything was silent, as if the world itself held its breath.

And in that eerie stillness, the door moved.

Like a muffled storm, the entire tree structure groaned. The weight of its movement sent clouds of dust falling like ash.

The solid wooden door dragged itself open with an imposing slowness.

And when the passage finally swung fully open, the air changed—it was colder, heavier, as though everything beyond that threshold belonged to another world.

“It’s open!”

Belladona, who had been standing ever since the fairy began her work, widened both of her crimson eyes as she stared at the open passage.

She had done it.

She had really done it.

Unable to hold back the rush of pleasure flooding her brain, the demoness looked around, eager for praise from her master—only to realize he wasn’t even looking at her.

Puzzled, she turned her gaze to the surroundings.

A blue-haired boy lay lifeless on the ground, his neck twisted by a single blow to the jaw—a clear sign he was already dead.

The girls, the boy, even the pink fairy—they were all gone.

“Retrieve the girl and the fairy. They may be useful later.”

Drelkos spoke without turning around, already walking toward the door.

“At once.”

Belladona dropped to her knees, bowing until her forehead nearly kissed the bloodied ground. Cold sweat rolled down her spine under the weight of his presence.

“And what of the others, Esteemed Master?”

The answer came without delay.

“Dispose of them.”

"Certainly." Belladona spoke, then turned around, calling all the men who were still paralyzed and ran.

Without so much as a glance back at the demoness, Drelkos passed through the doorway, where he was met by a long staircase ascending into darkness.

Step by step, he climbed in utter silence.

The distance, the thin air—none of it mattered.

At last, a green light flickered at the edge of their vision.

The abyss that unfolded before their eyes was as silent as a tomb long forgotten by the world. Fragments of ancient ruins—shattered columns and broken arches—floated aimlessly, as though the laws of reality had no dominion in that place. Waves of green and golden light pulsed across the ground and walls, flowing like the heartbeat of a slumbering giant.

At the center, a solitary pedestal jutted out from the depths. Atop it, something hovered in midair.

Suspended by black roots that hung from the ceiling like claws was an obsidian blade. Its dull edge shimmered faintly with the cold, matching the darkness that coiled around it.

The air was thick, nearly liquid, making every step toward the weapon feel like wading through pressure itself—a journey in and of itself.

“Thou art not welcome in this forest, Twilight.”

And then, the woman stood in their path.

She remained standing with the calm of one who has witnessed eras rise and fall. Her eyes—fiery orange like sacred embers—burned with intensity. Her skin, the dark hue of weathered ivory, contrasted with wild white hair thick as a lion's mane, swirling in spirals like skybound clouds caught in celestial currents.

Upon her head, magnificent horns branched like ancient trees or perhaps underwater coral, their colors shifting between vibrant rose-near-crimson and cool, gleaming turquoise. On her forehead, a crimson symbol pulsed like a third eye, matching the rosy pigments adorning her eyelids.

Her black kimono, dark as the firmament, was a living tapestry embroidered with floral and solar patterns. The fabric rippled gently, contrasting with the bright pink sash at her waist.

"Long time no see, Nerine, the Primordial Fairy."

Drelkos spoke with polished courtesy, his back bending slightly in a subtle bow before a sharp smile curled his lips for the first time.

"Or should I call you... Nerine, the World Tree?"

His words were met with deep silence.

Amidst the dark ruins, the two figures held each other's gaze—until a subtle, serene smile graced the woman's lips.

“Put thyself in thy place, thou impudent whelp.” There was weight in her words. And it had nothing to do with volume or tone. “Perish.”

Like nature's avalanche, dozens of wooden trunks - each as thick as entire houses - came crashing forth.