Becoming a Monster

Chapter 513: Chapter 512: A Dryad’s Corruption

They remained like that for a time, facing one another in silence while neither made a move. The longer it stood there without reacting, the more certain Gwen became that it wouldn’t attack her without reason.

Slowly, she began to lower her guard, her mana easing as the tension in her body started to fade.

It was only then that she noticed the difference in the mana. The golem in front of her no longer mattered, and any thoughts of escaping quickly faded as her attention shifted entirely to what surrounded her.

As an elf who was more attuned to nature and mana than most races, she could immediately tell that what filled this place wasn’t ordinary mana.

There were locations where mana gathered in greater density and potency, but purity like this was something she had only ever experienced within the nation of her home.

Her breathing slowed as she focused on it more closely, allowing her senses to take it in without resistance. The more she observed it, the clearer it became that this wasn’t simply a natural occurrence.

The mana wasn’t just pure; there was a subtle presence within it that she couldn’t immediately define.

Either way, she was confused about the nature of the mana. And more than ever, she had to know the reason why such mana existed.

It wasn’t out of simple curiosity.

The reasoning lay with the only two known sources capable of producing mana of such purity.

One was the kingdom core of her nation, a relic formed from a fabled ancestor whose essence was so deeply aligned with nature that it was believed they had been blessed by the world itself.

And the other... was a seed.

No one truly understood what that seed was. Even the oldest records, texts that had been preserved for generations, spoke of it with uncertainty.

Those who first discovered it were unable to uncover its nature. Yet despite that, the seed had remained in a state of active dormancy for centuries.

It constantly absorbed mana from the air and released it back into the world in its purest form, nurturing the land around it and fostering the growth of the highest-quality plant life.

The plants it created were more than simple herbs and trees. Their best elixirs and medicines were created from the life nurtured by the seed alone.

Her people had always treated it with reverence, not only for what it did, but for what it might be.

There were those who believed that it wasn’t simply a relic, but a remnant of something far greater. Among the oldest of those beliefs was the idea that the seed could have been a fragment of the legend itself.

The seed of the World Tree.

That possibility alone had driven generations to study it. Many became zealots because if it were true, then it meant that the origin of their power, and perhaps even their existence, was tied to the root of all life that drew from mana.

The elves were divided because of that belief.

The majority held firmly to the idea that they were the sole inheritors of the world’s favor. They believed that through them, another World Tree would one day rise, bringing forth a new era where all life would find salvation.

That belief did not remain pure, and over time it twisted into a pride so absolute that it became no different from the very prejudice they claimed to stand above.

It caused them to look down on other nations that did not share in their reverence for the world’s purity. Some judged the other races purely because they were not favored by the world like they were.

Then there were the few who rejected that way of thinking.

Those like Gwen, who still revered the World Tree but did not believe it belonged to them alone. They believed that the reason the seed remained dormant was not that it awaited the elves, but because the rest of the world had strayed too far from nature.

That understanding could not be forced through dominance or belief alone.

So she left.

Not to become the messiah that would reshape the world into something that aligned with her people’s pride.

It was to understand it as it was, and to find a way to share that understanding in a way that was true to her own beliefs.

That was why, even now, with her life still uncertain and her comrades either dead or gone, she couldn’t turn away from what she was sensing.

Her senses when it came to mana were sharp, far sharper than most, and at this distance, it was impossible for her not to perceive where it was coming from.

The closer she stood, the more distinct it became until the origin felt just beyond her reach.

Without thinking, she took a step forward, her focus narrowing toward the structure behind the golem. She moved carefully with the creature’s presence in mind, because she still didn’t understand what would trigger it to act.

As long as she didn’t cross whatever boundary it was guarding, she believed she could get close enough to confirm what she was sensing.

But the moment she shifted forward, the ground responded as roots burst upward in front of her, forcing her to stop. Their sharpened ends angled toward her body in a clear warning that another step would not be tolerated.

Her body locked in place, but that fear didn’t linger for long. It was quickly replaced by recognition as her eyes widened and her hands rose to cover her mouth.

"A dryad...?"

Although posed as a question, there was barely any hesitation in her voice. She knew exactly what she was looking at.

Among her people, such beings were not unknown, as their forests were home to many born from the same roots that sustained their land, with their oldest records speaking of an ancient dryad that guarded the world seed.

The roots in front of her shifted in response to her voice.

Even though Pandora’s resentment hadn’t yet faded from what had been done to Ophis and then to her, hearing someone besides Noah recognize her existence made Pandora curious about the outsider instead.

Gwen watched as the roots submerged back into the ground, staring with undisguised scrutiny towards their appearance.

"What kind of dryad are you?" She voiced aloud. The roots were not the lively kind she envisioned a dryad to have. The mana was seeded with an ominous energy, a direct contrast from what she knew a dryad should have.

Thinking of that energy, surprisingly, Gwen grew worried for the dryad, believing that the energy was a sign that Pandora was becoming corrupted.

She had only seen it happen once.

When a dryad was created, it was bound to a set of laws that were said to come from the World Tree itself. Laws that governed its existence and ensured that it remained in harmony with the world around it.

There were seven that she knew of, but there was only one that carried consequences that could not be undone, and that was when a dryad takes life outside the natural balance.

That was the point where everything changed.

Gwen’s gaze remained fixed on the roots in front of her as that thought circulated. The sign was there, but she was still unsure, because even with that possibility, something didn’t align with what she was seeing.

If the dryad had truly been corrupted, then the other signs would have been impossible to miss.

The forest wouldn’t look like this, and the life that surrounded her wouldn’t exist in this state. Because a true corrupted dryad would gradually disregard all its natural laws and begin to consume everything until there was nothing left.

But this place didn’t show such signs; the mana was still rich and flowing, nurturing everything within it instead of destroying it.

That meant this wasn’t the same.

Her concern didn’t lessen, but instead shifted as she reached a different conclusion. If the corruption hadn’t originated from the dryad itself, then the only possibility left was that it had been forced onto it.

Her hands tightened slightly at her sides because she understood what that implied, and there had never been a recorded case where a dryad could overcome the onset of corruption on its own.

That was why one law stood above all the others, a law that none of her kind ever wished to see fulfilled.

A corrupted dryad must allow its own destruction.

Gwen took a step forward despite herself, her instincts overriding the caution she had held before, because if that was truly what this was, then leaving it like this wasn’t something she could accept.

"Dryad, let me help you?"

She was met with silence. A disturbingly long sense of silence. For a moment, Gwen believed that the dryad was perhaps more far gone than she realized, preventing it from understanding.

But then, suddenly, a figure materialized in front of her, causing her to jump back.

The figure didn’t show a response to Gwen’s reaction. Its unmoving presence just stood there.

At first, Gwen took the figure as the dryad’s spiritual self. There was a hint of relief, because if that was the case, then that meant the tree was mature enough to understand its natural laws better than she did.

But when she tried to sense the corruption of the dryad’s spirit, her brows furrowed.

The dryad’s spirit didn’t have a presence at all.