The Ancient Spirit Tree was extraordinary from the moment of its birth. In this deity-blessed land, wondrous trees abounded—capable of birthing unimaginable life and revealing phenomena beyond mortal comprehension.

From its first breath, it possessed wisdom. Its golden leaves proclaimed its uniqueness. Hailed as a divine blessing, revered as the embodiment of wisdom—

Immobile, it watched humans come and go, witnessed their prayers, and observed: how fleeting human lives were, how they sought its counsel for trivial matters. At first, it found quiet joy in this. Solving their problems felt like purpose…

But that lasted only a millennium.

Truthfully, weariness set in around the hundred-year mark. Human questions repeated endlessly:

*“How do I get rich?”*

*“How do I win my beloved’s heart?”*

*“How do I gain power? Strength? Avoid punishment?”*

Too many. Too dull.

The answer was always “try harder.” Most assumed they hadn’t tried enough—so effort became the universal reply.

Occasionally, intriguing questions surfaced: *“What is the meaning of life?” “What is justice?”*

It had no answers. It wasn’t human—how could it grasp human justice? As for life’s meaning… it pondered for ages. Found nothing.

So it sought answers.

But as a tree, it couldn’t.

After several millennia, it realized its power had grown. It could capture human thoughts—the emotions woven into prayers—bind them, preserve them, make them its own.

Another thousand years passed. Its roots carved chambers deep underground, forming a vast labyrinth. Within, human thoughts channeled through its body gave rise to treants.

It no longer wished to be the Ancient Spirit Tree.

Perhaps plant senses were simply slower? Even with wisdom, it took millennia to “quit.” A human would’ve changed jobs in ten years. It yearned to become human.

Yet it was wise.

Becoming human wasn’t simple. With its power and symbolic weight, it knew: taking human form would mark it a monster. Regrettably, it wasn’t born in the Demon Realm—though there, its status might not have been so exalted.

So it tried.

It let humans enter its labyrinth.

Then the Demonhunt Squad arrived.

Result? Sealed.

The Dragon Slayer crushed its treant battalion effortlessly. A powerful mage sealed the labyrinth, allowing only select souls inside.

Inside lay only fragments of human thoughts… and bits of its body—secretions, really.

Yet those permitted kept returning, fascinated.

But it was the Ancient Spirit Tree.

It had time. It waited. The Dragon Slayer was strong—perhaps only a Chosen Hero could defeat him. But no new hero had risen yet.

Timing mattered.

When the last Chosen Hero fell and none replaced him… it heard whispers: the Dragon Slayer was now branded a False Hero, cast aside by humanity.

*Perfect.* No better moment to become human.

“…Is that your defense?” Arnold stared coldly at the leaf-woven humanoid. “If you’ve nothing more to say, you know what I’ll do. We’ve met before.”

The golden-leaf figure split into an eerie grin. “Arnold, this timing isn’t because I underestimate you. It’s because I can conveniently dump this on you.”

“You seem confident?” Arnold drew his greatsword. He’d fought deep into the labyrinth’s core to face the Ancient Spirit Tree’s will.

Leaf-arms swayed. “Don’t. You truly don’t want to do this.”

“What do you mean?”

“As you know: every prayer leaves a fragment of thought. That power animates treants to Silver-rank strength. What *kind* of power is that?”

Arnold frowned. “Swarm all the weaklings you want—one swing ends them. Planning to gather those fragments?” He shrugged slightly; Lucy on his shoulder looked confused.

“Afraid of summoning a Void Rift? Even the great Ancient Spirit Tree knows the consequences.”

*Like Lucy—her growing power summoned the Void Rift.*

“Of course I know,” it replied calmly. “But have you considered… what happens to those who *lose* these thoughts? Stripped of this power?”

Arnold’s pupils tightened. Lucy paled.

“Kill me here? Fine. But what then? Every soul in this city who sought my counsel, who held my leaf—they’ll suffer agonizing mental assaults. Lose their memories. Will you still strike?”

The entire city had become hostages. Not death… but was it any kinder?

Silence. Lucy and Arnold were powerless. Had Harmony Weaver Melissa or Demon Purifier Helen been here, perhaps… But only Dragon Slayer Arnold, Blade Dancer Karin, and a tiny ghost stood within.

Strong? Yes. But personal resistance meant nothing for others.

The leaf-being spread its oddly cute hands. “You in the back—you *could* kill me in one strike. But stand down. I know your thoughts.”

Karin emerged from shadows, seeking an opening. Arnold’s expression turned complex.

“Blade Dancer Karin. I know you. Need advice? It’s my duty.” A leaf drifted free, faint characters etched—but unreadable.

“Harmless. Just look. A gesture of goodwill.” It turned to Arnold. “Hero… need counsel too? Call it bribery. Human ‘carrot and stick.’ I ask only that you watch the city change. Isn’t one side gaining better than mutual ruin? And… it’s not *bad* for you.”

This ancient being, wise and cunning, had already won. Arnold couldn’t act.

His reason remained unchanged: the people were innocent.

“If you become human and still threaten this world—I *will* end you. No matter the cost.”

Saying this meant sparing the tree. But the threat held weight—*Arnold* spoke it.

“Thank you for your… advice.” The Ancient Spirit Tree seemed unsurprised. “Then…” The labyrinth shifted. A passage glowed ahead. “You may leave.”

Arnold turned without hesitation. After two steps, he halted.

“Something else, sir?”

“One last question. A trivial advice for you—consider it payment.”

“You’d make a shrewd merchant. Speak.”

“The Fanlin House members who fell here—was it you… or themselves?”

“A profound question. Blame is rarely one-sided. But I understand. I was busy becoming human. Avoiding them, truthfully—thanks to the Demonhunt Squad. Nothing more.”

“That is enough.” Arnold left with Lucy.

Karin waited a moment before moving.

“Miss Karin… consider my advice.”

She paused. Didn’t turn. Didn’t speak. Vanished.