The Red Lamp of Lacorinto
The World Tree.
After the heavenly gods departed, the dwarves built a tower in their desire to dwell in the sky. When that tower collapsed, a single tree stood tall in its place—this is what is called the World Tree.
However, the true meaning of the World Tree does not refer to that single tree. There were many World Trees. The one that took root in the tower was merely the last, and thus the one remembered.
When the fairies were shaped by the hands of the Creator Ophilus and raised in a certain garden, Ophilus gave them a pouch and sent them down the mountain.
Inside the pouch were many seeds. When the fairy who led the group planted one of them, it grew into a tree so vast it reached the heavens. This tree was the first World Tree.
Those who knew this called the World Tree the Tree of Ophilus.
"The Tree of Ophilus exists…?"
Beatrice covered her mouth with her hand.
"What you've been hiding… no, how could something like that become corrupted?"
The World Tree disappeared from history with the end of the age of fairies.
In recorded history, there were six World Trees. Five of them perished through the ages of the gods and the dwarves, leaving only one by the time of the fairy age. That single tree was the World Tree of the tower.
"I don't know."
"You don't know?"
Beatrice glared at Count Luogallan, her tone incredulous.
"It's the truth. I don't know why it sprouted, nor why it became corrupted. It's true that we safeguarded the Tree of Ophilus—but it was nothing more than a seed. To begin with, we weren't even sure it was truly a seed… it looked like nothing more than a stone."
"That makes no sense. You thought it was just a stone, yet you hid it so carefully all this time? Aren't you concealing something else—something that caused this situation?"
Their voices rose.
They argued over whether the World Tree was truly the cause of the demonic realm, whether it really was the World Tree, and if so, why it had sprouted—but no progress was made.
It was clear that while Count Luogallan had known of the World Tree's existence and protected it, he knew little beyond that.
"…Lord Armin, it seems you had expected this."
Roberta looked toward Ulrich. He had been quietly listening to the argument. His expression was calm—unshaken even after hearing that the World Tree had sprouted.
"In my memory, there's no other explanation."
"Is it truly corrupted?"
"Most likely."
Ulrich crossed his arms and stroked his chin with his right hand.
"The Tree of Ophilus is one of the relics stored here. You should already know its properties."
According to the records, the World Tree purifies the flow of mana.
Conversely, a corrupted World Tree taints that flow, making it turbid and unstable. It distorts nature, creating an environment where monsters can easily be born.
"Then why did it suddenly sprout? Do you have any idea? The seeds of the World Tree were given directly by Ophilus himself. That means they didn't sprout for over ten thousand years—so why now?"
"Hard to say. It wouldn't be due to environmental factors."
If it were the environment, it would have sprouted long ago, he added.
"Given the circumstances, the only conclusion is that someone artificially induced its germination."
Could it be heretics? Non-theists? She almost asked—but stopped.
Ulrich muttered to himself, "Too many."
Too many people came to mind.
Clicking her tongue, Roberta changed her question.
"Is there a way to resolve it?"
"Of course there is. The easiest method is even written in the scriptures."
Roberta hesitated.
"…Do we have to burn it? The World Tree?"
It was the only method recorded in the sacred texts.
"The simplest method. The World Tree is a living being—so you end its life."
According to the records, near the end of the age of fairies, there was an incident where a World Tree became corrupted. That corrupted World Tree created a demonic realm, just like the one in this swamp.
At the time, the fairies tried many methods to purify it, but all failed—and as a result, their era came to an end.
Even after inflicting irreversible damage upon an entire age, the World Tree continued to spread the demonic realm.
The one who ultimately resolved the problem was the Emperor.
He burned the World Tree.
"That is, if there are no other options."
The scriptures describe it as a purification, but they also state that "even from afar, one could see the World Tree burning as it collapsed," making the truth of the matter quite clear.
The surrounding noise fell silent.
"The Emperor burned the World Tree because there were no other options at the time. It was already too late to restore it to its original state."
But this time, it was not too late.
As Ulrich said this, he turned to the fairy Vermelani.
By then, Beatrice and Count Luogallan had stopped arguing. Hearing the words "another option," they fell silent as if by agreement and fixed their gaze on Ulrich.
"Vermelani, do you know the origin of the blood that flows within you?"
"…Yes, I do."
The fairy Vermelani was a descendant of the Erelbur lineage. And Erelbur had been the last prince of the last fairy kingdom.
By the third age of humanity, most fairies had forgotten their lineage. But during the height of their era, lineage had been of utmost importance to them—far beyond the way humans concern themselves with bloodlines.
It was only natural.
Humans do not know their creator. There is no single god who directly shaped humanity—only the gods who created the world itself.
But the fairies do have a creator. Ophilus shaped them. And he entrusted a pouch containing the seeds of the World Tree to a certain fairy.
If humans had such a history, would they not make that chosen individual their leader?
The fairies did exactly that. The one who received the World Tree seeds from the god became their king.
"The awakening of the World Tree began, both now and in the beginning, with Ophilus' hand. He passed it to the first Fairy King—and that king is your ancestor."
Vermelani shook her head.
"That is a story from a distant past. Even if we live longer than humans… it is still unimaginably far removed. What meaning does it have now?"
"Only the fairy chosen by him can plant and nurture the seed. It is as if he granted an unseen authority. Though that power has weakened over time, it has not disappeared. I know this."
Even for someone from more than ten thousand years ago, such a distance may not be so great to a fairy. In terms of time, it may be vast—but in terms of generations, perhaps not so distant.
Ulrich declared with certainty:
"The blood that flows within you is closer than any other to the one chosen by the Creator."
"This is why I brought you along. I do not wish to see Ophilus's gift defiled. I want to restore it so that it does not become a calamity unrelated to his will."
"How?"
"Stand before the World Tree."
Unable to understand, Vermelani stared at Ulrich and fell silent. Ulrich also said nothing, and soon a heavy silence settled over the surroundings.
"…You're planning to go into the demonic realm like this?"
After a moment, Beatrice broke the silence.
"We're already in it. This place itself is the demonic realm."
"That's not what I mean. I'm asking if you intend to go right up to the World Tree, where monsters are swarming."
"I didn't take you for someone so timid."
Beatrice frowned.
"You're the strange one. How can you be so calm about this?"
Unlike usual, she seemed stripped of her composure. Roberta knew the reason. Beatrice had come to the swamp to uncover the cause of the demonic realm and the secret of Jokuster. Here and now, she had found both.
And worse, the two were one and the same—and tied to the calamity that had ended the age of fairies. This was the kind of revelation that demanded immediate report to the Pantheon.
Purification? The method recorded in the scriptures was the achievement of an Emperor. If burning the World Tree had been so simple, the fairies would not have failed and fallen.
Moreover, Ulrich's proposed solution was something no one had ever attempted.
By all common sense, it was an absurd proposal.
—If it weren't Ulrich.
"If you wish, you may withdraw. I'll personally see you out of the swamp."
"I—"
"But if you do, you will never know."
Beatrice had come here to uncover the truth—to understand people.
Not just the secret of Jokuster or the cause of the demonic realm, but also to understand Ulrich of Dithmarschen. Just as Roberta had.
"…Sister Roberta already knows, doesn't she? About you."
Staring directly at Ulrich, she spoke.
"She has the right. Roberta is different from the other priests. The ones who sought me out until now approached me with suspicion, misconception, or curiosity—and in the end, they gave up. Or they had ulterior motives."
Roberta recalled the records of her predecessors. Before her, only the immediate former priest had served a long term—and as Ulrich said, he had ulterior motives.
The only one who came to know Ulrich without knowing anything beforehand… was Roberta alone.
Perhaps, when they entered the Ice Peninsula, Ulrich's decision to request her companionship instead of issuing an order had been a test like this.
"What will you do, Beatrice?"
"…You truly have the tongue of a serpent, Brother."
Beatrice let out a long breath and covered her face.
Ulrich gave a faint smile.
"Do not worry. I have no intention of deceiving you."
They boarded the boat once more.
The World Tree lay at the center of the wandering swamp, in the ruins of the old fairy city.
Previously, traveling from the swamp's edge to the fortress had felt like crossing a lake. The rain had raised the water level, submerging young trees and grasses, leaving the view wide and open.
But the old fairy city lay beyond a dense conifer forest. Thick branches drooped low, and rain-soaked leaves blocked out the sunlight. Passing beneath them felt like moving through a jungle.
"If I may…"
On the slowly advancing boat, Count Luogallan spoke.
"If things go wrong… and it does not proceed as you intend… what then?"
Everyone on the boat frowned at him. No one spoke, but their thoughts were the same—Did you really have to say that?
The Count looked embarrassed, but he did not withdraw his gaze from Ulrich. His anxiety was too great—he needed to hear the answer.
"If that happens, then we burn it once more. There is no third option. If left alone, it will only defile Ophilus's will."
"Can the World Tree truly be burned so easily?"
"Do not overthink it."
From the stern, Ulrich answered as he rowed.
"Even the World Tree is still a tree. Nothing more than a large one."
Soon, the boat reached land.
Roberta lifted her gaze and looked upon the city—no, the walls. Though overgrown with vegetation, unlike the fortress, their structure remained intact.
Even after all this time, the walls still concealed the city. Above them, the sky was unnaturally heavy with dark clouds. Beyond the walls, the city itself lay shrouded in a darkness akin to night.
And yet—
Within that darkness, there was light.
A faint glow emanated from beyond the walls, its color a deep blue-green.
It was the light emitted by the Tree of Ophilus.
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