The battle did not end abruptly. It slowly lost strength, as something worn down more by exhaustion than by decision.
The carnivorous semi-humans were the first to retreat, breaking into scattered groups, still tense, as if they could not fully accept that the advance had stopped.
Some refused to leave. They turned back, attempting one last leap, as if persistence alone could change the outcome, but there was no longer any space left to advance.
The herbivores never followed them. They remained firm, holding their positions without overextending themselves, as if this were neither victory nor defeat, but simply a task that had to be completed. Only when the last predator vanished into the savanna did they begin to withdraw as well, unhurried, uncelebrating, without looking back.
Aren was breathing heavily, still feeling the weight of the battle in her body, when she saw Lusian stop near the edge. He was not looking at those retreating, nor at those still standing. He was looking at the ground.
Selvryn was already there.
Aren did not see her arrive. She only noticed her presence when she looked up. The elf stood motionless, her gaze fixed on the mountain. She did not speak immediately. She placed her hand on the stone, and for a moment seemed to focus on something not on the surface.
—It was a planned attack —she said at last.
Lusian took a moment before responding.
—At multiple points —he answered—. The intention was to keep us from noticing the main strike.
Aren frowned, but did not interrupt. Selvryn closed her eyes, and her expression shifted slightly.
—The main attack was underground… —she murmured—. Against the Mother Tree.
Aren looked at her.
Selvryn did not turn.
—Beneath the mountain. I felt it when it happened.
Lusian gave a slight nod.
—It was the first attempt.
The wind passed between the rocks, but it did nothing to ease the tension. Aren looked over the terrain again, trying to understand.
—Then… what was this?
Selvryn opened her eyes.
—The first attempt of many.
Aren covered her mouth.
—They cannot destroy the Tree —Selvryn continued—. Not like that.
Her hand remained on the stone.
—And I will not allow it.
Lusian spoke then, still not taking his eyes off the ground.
—We must prepare better next time.
Aren tightened her grip on the spear.
—And the carnivores?
Selvryn shook her head.
—I do not know what deal they made.
She raised her gaze.
—With the Lithaar —Lusian said.
There was no strong reaction. Only confirmation.
Selvryn nodded.
Central Core Emission
Author: Kael'Thur, Voice of Subterranean Balance
The Lithaar did not know the world on the surface.
Their civilization was born under constant pressure, in deep layers where mana flowed like an invisible river through stone. The Lithaar evolved alongside that mana—it is their nourishment and their strength. Every tunnel, every chamber, every structure of their society was designed to coexist with that flow without breaking it.
They were part of the subterranean world.
Not above it.
The Tree came later.And with it, its roots.
Thar'Kaal was not an invasion in the conventional sense. It was growth. A biological system that encountered the same resource… and began consuming it from above.
Roots that did not only take nutrients, but raw mana itself.
The same mana that once descended into the layers where the Lithaar existed.
And then the balance shifted.
An entire city perished when those roots arrived. They did not merely destroy structures: they erased us. We were killed as the mana within our bodies was stripped away, stolen, consumed.
Wherever the Tree anchored its roots, mana stopped flowing downward.
But there was something more.
Something worse.
When a root of Thar'Kaal reached a Lithaar zone… it did not only block the flow.
It absorbed it.
The Lithaar, once a glorious species, became nourishment for the Tree.
Their mineral structure, their internal mana, their very existence… was taken, broken down, and converted into lighter mana, assimilated without resistance.
To the Tree, the Lithaar were not enemies. They were deposits. Contact did not cause immediate physical destruction—it triggered total extraction of accumulated mana, returning to the system what had been taken.
The Lithaar could not grow where the Tree existed.
The Tree, however, could grow upon them.
One existed by consuming the world from above.
The other disappeared when that consumption reached it.
The Lithaar advanced through the tunnel without looking back.
The ground was still warm in places—not from fire, but from loss of coherence. The combined attack had been devastating, but insufficient.
It should not still be alive.
But it was.
Behind it there was no full unit. No formation. No group.
Only remnants of what had once been its companions.
—Damn Thar'Kaal…
They had descended together.
They had synchronized their cores.
They had compressed mana to its absolute limit.
And still… it had not been enough.
The root broke.
But Thar'Kaal remained.
The Lithaar saw it at the exact moment.
Contact. Absorption.
The accumulated mana of its companions was torn away in an instant, as if it had never belonged to them. Drained into emptiness.
One by one, they ceased to exist as Lithaar.
No screams. No collapse.
Only a state change.
From Lithaar… to part of the Tree.
As if they had never been anything else.
Only material incorporated.
The survivor kept walking.
It took time to reach the base.
The Lithaar city lay within.
Inside the rock, where mana flowed in structured currents.
The elder leader sat waiting.
The report was brief.
—Contact with Thar'Kaal confirmed.
Pause.
—It was not destroyed.
Another pause.
—The unit was absorbed.
Silence.
Lithaar do not interpret death as loss.
—The roots of Thar'Kaal are already spreading through the mountain.
—Soon they will reach the city.
The air in the chamber shifted.
No one spoke immediately.
Because the outcome was already understood.
The elder spoke at last.
—How many?
The Lithaar paused.
Not for doubt.
For precision.
—All of the line.
Silence.
More stable than before.
—We will launch a larger assault —the elder said.
The survivor lowered his gaze.
The existence of his people was at stake. There was no alternative left. Victory… or disappearance.