Chapter 765: Unknown Existence

"Kill them all!"

"These rebels will make the finest sacrifices!"

Theron spread the hideous spider limbs on his back, letting out a hoarse roar. Cracks spread across his skin, his body like shattered porcelain.

Thick black mist seeped from the fissures on his body. His flesh trembled, veins bulging as if countless worms and snakes were writhing inside him, transforming his form.

He growled low, "Remember, the great Mother Goddess can foresee all that is to come. Every pain, sorrow, and death is fate woven by Her eight arms!"

Theron howled in agony, raising his arms toward the scarlet blood moon in the sky. Behind him, over a dozen elven elders chanted softly, their voices mingling with the screeches of spider monsters, forming a twisted symphony.

Crimson light poured over the land, the cruel laughter of a woman echoing in every ear, while an indescribable power seeped into the world.

"Stop them—at all costs!" Theron roared.

The giant cocoons hanging from the Holy Tree split one after another, spilling foul, stinking fluids and birthing tens of thousands of Drider Elves.

Once, they were the elite of the Silvermoon Elves, the children of noble elders.

Now their eyes were dull, pupils dim, charging the allied soldiers like walking corpses, while beside them Sword Spiders, Phase Spiders, and Demon-Hunting Spiders surged like a tide.

"For justice!"

With a ringing shout, a massive golden figure swept across the sky, flames descending like divine judgment, igniting a blazing sea of fire.

But a dozen Drider Elf warlocks mounted on Giant Horror Spiders raised their wands together, firing webs that formed a massive net across the sky, blocking the gold dragon and binding him.

Titus spewed searing dragonfire to burn the webs away, but their surface shimmered faintly red, resisting the flames’ heat.

Countless spider monsters crawled along the web to the gold dragon’s body, biting, gnawing, even driving poisoned barbs into the gaps in his scales.

But the ancient gold dragon’s strength was overwhelming; even his struggling ripples crushed swathes of spider monsters, scattering broken limbs to the ground.

"Go, aid Lord Titus!"

A dozen celestial warriors beat their wings to help, but the evil dragon legion intercepted them in midair, locking them in fierce battle.

On the ground far away, Melisandra drew her bow, aiming at the sky. A hurricane gathered around her arrow, power surging, ready to burst.

"Whoosh—"

With a shriek that tore the air, the arrow flew, its magic forming a wind blade over ten meters long.

The wind blade swept above Titus, instantly killing hundreds of spider monsters and slicing through the bound webs, opening a huge gap and giving the gold dragon his chance to break free.

"Cunning vermin!"

Titus roared, muscles bulging across his back as he spread his wings, snapping the webs and soaring hundreds of meters high.

A golden scepter appeared in the ancient gold dragon’s claws. Pointing it to the ground, he unleashed a massive beam of light that exploded across the land, consuming thousands of spider monsters.

Using the chaos of the blast, Rhea led the Silvermoon followers deep into enemy lines, cutting through like a dagger, slaying hundreds of Drider Elves.

Dwarf cavalry, human rangers, and celestial troops followed the Silvermoon Elves, pushing into the area near the Holy Tree.

Catherine’s eyes shone as she said coldly, "My people, my allies—victory is before us! The Holy Tree is just ahead!"

"Attack with all your might! Tear apart their lies and malice, let silver moonlight return to the land!"

The queen’s staff radiated silver light, blanketing hundreds of meters. Under the holy energy, spider monsters wailed in panic.

Far-off Drider Elf casters raised their wands, sending acid, poison mist, and blood magic at the Silvermoon Elves—each spell deadly to mortals.

But Rhea gripped her sword with both hands, divine radiance blocking their assault.

Behind her, Melisandra loosed several arrows, bursting the heads of the Drider Elf casters.

The gold dragon carved a path with dragonfire, human rangers picked off enemy mages, and the half-elf paladin’s silver sword cut down every obstacle ahead.

In moments, the three legendary figures cleared the road to the Holy Tree, leaving only blood, bodies, and wreckage.

"Advance!"

"Victory is near! Destroy the source of this disaster, and Serenia will know peace again!"

Rhea gazed at the broad path covered in Holy Tree leaves, her expression complex as she looked at the now-twisted branches along its sides.

Once called the "Sacred Road" and "Glorious Silvermoon Road," it was where every Serenian elf came for blessing.

As a half-elf with human blood, she had never been allowed to walk it, scorned as a "mongrel" and a "taint on the bloodline."

Now the "Sacred Road" ran red with blood, littered with Drider corpses, the Holy Tree itself corrupted beyond recognition.

But did she truly belong to Serenia?

As Rhea hesitated, Catherine came to her, voice gentle yet firm: "Come, Rhea. End this tragedy with me."

"A thousand years is enough—Serenia must return to what it once was."

"Yes, Your Majesty."

Rhea looked at the queen’s serene face and silver eyes, nodding heavily.

Soon they stood before the Holy Tree’s massive trunk, the ancient wooden door the entrance.

Once dignified and beautiful, the door bore the visage of a wise treant, allowing only the good and true to enter.

Now it was cracked, its edges bristling with fang-like thorns, shaped like a gaping bloody maw.

Its twisted form was streaked with crimson, its gaps black and deep as if to swallow all before it.

"Who comes—"

A rasping voice echoed as if from the bottomless abyss.

A mad, twisted face appeared on the Holy Tree, grinning at the elves. "Do you bring... a sacrifice?"

"This... this is the Holy Tree?"

"The sacred gate?"

Fear spread among the Silvermoon Elves, their faith shattering.

Catherine stepped forward, eyes filled with pity but voice cold: "What do you want?"

"Blood... fresh blood. The blood of a thousand Silvermoon Elves, and I will let you in."

The wooden gate’s eyes gleamed with greed, staring at them like prey.

"You must... pay the price."

Under its gaze, the elves shivered.

The wise guardian had been twisted by evil into a bloodthirsty monster.

"Then..." Catherine’s voice turned to ice. "Don’t blame me for forgetting old ties."

Rage echoed from the voice: "What? I am the Holy Tree’s—"

"Swish—"

Catherine bit her finger, letting royal blood drip on her staff, then raised it high.

A dazzling silver light shot toward the gate. The monster shrieked as the light purified it.

The gate opened, revealing the Holy Tree’s interior.

"By Shahanni—"

Even Catherine gasped.

"Gods!"

"What has become of the Holy Tree?!"

Inside was hollowed out, scarred with corrosion, filled with branch-like limbs.

Webs covered everything, holding thousands of cocoons. Spiders crawled through scarlet threads, carrying elf blood and limbs.

The Holy Tree was like a colossal corpse, its scarlet threads veins, spiders its blood, elf remains its nourishment.

This was the Enser Royal Court—

A sacred place founded by the ancient elf king in oath to the gods—now defiled.

"Desecration."

"Utter desecration."

Catherine’s voice trembled.

The Arcane Hermitage mage raised his head, eyes grave. "Your Majesty, I think I’ve found the anchor."

All eyes followed his pointing wand.

At the heart of a scarlet vortex of webbing hung a female elf.

She wore a pale gold crown, silver hair flowing like water, veins faint beneath her pale skin.

Her upper body was curled and wrapped in silk like a newborn, exuding sanctity.

But her lower half was a spider’s body, eight barbed legs curled like a throne of obsidian thorns.

Drider.

A Drider who had slept for millennia, sealed.

Looking closely at her face, everyone—elf, dwarf, human—was shocked, dread rising.

For she resembled Catherine by seventy to eighty percent.

Catherine stared, muttering, "By Shahanni... that face, silver hair, the crown of the ancient dynasty, the familiar bloodline..."

"Could she be..."

"Heh... you’ve guessed it, Catherine."

The rasping laugh came from the treetop—Theron.

Theron raised his staff, laughing. "She is the overthrown tyrant of Serenia—your grandmother, Faliti Moonchaser!"

Catherine’s eyes blazed. "You... you dare defile her corpse like this?!"

Theron’s face twisted with madness. "No, this is her honor! She will be the Mother Goddess’s vessel, the weaver of fate’s incarnation!"

He shook his head with feigned regret. "You could have had the same honor, but you are too blind and foolish."

"Honor? Using her body to host an evil god’s will? That’s your honor?!"

Catherine spat coldly, "She would never imagine you capable of such madness!"

Theron ignored her, raising his staff and spreading his eight limbs. "Come, witness this glorious moment!"

The treetop split like a monster’s jaws, revealing the scarlet full moon.

Only now could the evil god’s will most affect the material plane—perfect for the ritual.

Elders with bladed spider legs slit the throats of captured Silvermoon Elves, spilling their blood.

"Blood sacrifice to the Mother Goddess!"

"Praise the great Weaver of Chaos!"

With their chants, hot blood flowed into eight braziers.

The braziers, made from onyx, obsidian, and other black treasures, burned fat, coal, and incense, each representing an arm of the Mother Goddess.

"Sizzle!"

Blood fed the flames, casting a strange light under the moon.

Inside the Holy Tree, the cultists clutched each other’s throats, stabbing their hearts in brutal ritual combat.

In the scarlet moonlight, the fanatics danced a bloody dance—the price, their lives.

Catherine’s head throbbed as if her soul was being torn apart, but she still cried, "Stop him!"

"Your Majesty, I—"

Under the crushing pressure, mortals collapsed. Even legendary paladins could barely stay conscious.

The only one capable of breaking through—Titus, or Cassius—feigned being affected, watching coldly.

"Interesting."

In history, without the gold dragon, Catherine still won, but at far greater cost.

Now Cassius suspected the Silvermoon Goddess herself might intervene against the descending Lolth.