NEC Chapter 6: Demon Tree Jungle, Dark Magic Tree

The stars faded from the sky as dawn illuminated the boundless sea of trees.

The team, maintaining their standoffish formation, ventured into the inner ring of the Gloomy Forest.

The first thing they saw was a heavily corroded signpost.

The words “Demon Tree Jungle” were barely legible, but beneath them, smaller, crooked carvings stood out, likely left by past apprentices.

“Dark Magic Tree ahead: each round costs two lives.”

“I went in with two zombies, came back with three, but one couldn’t walk on its own.”

“Welcome to the evil land, moving nutrients.”

Say what you will, these adventurers had a knack for staying upbeat. Probably because only survivors made it back to carve their quips.

Little Eleven shifted into high alert.

He secured his wrist guards, moved his dagger to the front of his belt, gripped a triple-shot crossbow in his right hand, and held a swallowtail knife as long as his forearm in his left, occasionally slashing through obstructing branches.

Chen Mo struggled through the dense, pathless jungle. This untouched wilderness was a challenge even for seasoned hikers, let alone a clumsy college student who preferred “infantry” over exercise.

As for Little White, his pitiful skeleton had tripped over hidden roots under the dead leaves several times. Each fall sent a clattering din from its tightly wrapped chest cavity, spiking Chen Mo’s heart rate.

Eventually, Chen Mo had to guide his summon, using his own feet to scout the way.

He couldn’t shake the feeling that his path as a necromancer, constantly wiping his skeleton’s proverbial backside, had veered wildly off course.

They moved, rested, moved again, until the sun neared its zenith, and the team finally approached the dark magic tree’s lair.

The terrain changed abruptly.

In the dense forest, sunlight was blocked by leaves, preventing lush grass from growing. But here, the trees formed a near-perfect circular clearing, as if someone had carved a hundredmeter-wide hole in the woods.

The ground was covered in dense, soft grass, like a thick green carpet encircling a massive tree at the center.

Little Eleven signaled everyone to halt. It was time to engage according to strategy.

Legend had it the dark magic tree was a corrupted war tree of the dark elves, its body tough, movements sluggish, and strength immense. Its defining trait was its ability to endlessly regenerate from this tainted land, making it impossible to eradicate.

Specific parts of the tree could be harvested for valuable materials used in crafting spell tools or small magical trinkets. Its regenerative ability turned this flaw into an asset, leading Black Crow Castle to confine it as a private monster-farming ground.

The strategy was simple. Zombies were the tree’s natural counter, just fast enough to outmaneuver it and attack from behind.

Their thick hides could withstand the occasional hit without issue.

And zombies didn’t care about unsightly scars.

Skeletons, however, weren’t so lucky: one hit from the tree meant a shattered frame.

Under Little Blondie’s command, Chen Mo’s Little White, Ellie’s skeleton, and Little Eleven formed an equilateral triangle around the clearing’s edge.

Once the fight began, the tree would summon wild beasts from the jungle for support. The two skeletons and the scout’s job was to handle these minions.

Little Blondie’s bucket zombie lumbered into the clearing.

The dark magic tree began to tremble.

Its roots ran deep, so when it slowly pulled two thick, root-covered “legs” from the soil, the entire clearing seemed to quiver.

The tree was indeed slow. As Little Blondie’s bucket zombie hobbled in from the side, landing a direct chop, the tree hadn’t even turned around.

It let out a muffled roar, though where its vocal cords were was anyone’s guess.

Wolf howls echoed through the forest.

These were short-eared gray wolves, tamed by the tree’s corruption. The tree used the grassy clearing to lure small herbivores, which in turn attracted predators, ultimately raising a pack of enforcers.

This tree commanded a pack of short-eared gray wolves.

A dozen gray beasts, each a meter and a half long with blood-red eyes and gaping maws, burst from the forest. Chen Mo instinctively stepped back.

Little White thrust its spear, but the infected wolf, stripped of its dodging instincts, didn’t flinch. It savagely bit down on the bone spear.

Bone against teeth, hydroxyapatite versus hydroxyapatite, neither gave way.

But Little White was all hard bone, while the wolf’s flesh was soft.

The skeleton’s spear jabbed and twisted in the wolf’s gut, eliciting a desperate howl from the dying beast.

The battlefield split into two rings.

In the inner ring, Little Blondie’s two zombies tag-teamed the tree. When it lumbered toward one at a sluggish quarter-mile an hour, the other hacked at its back.

A polished machete left deep gashes in the bark. It was like chopping a tree that was trying to run away, yet it was undeniably a tree.

The tree couldn’t catch its target. When it turned, it became the chopping block for the other zombie.

It was like two cane-wielding old men ganging up on an even older one in a wheelchair.

Though the tree’s branch-like arms occasionally landed a blow, sending a zombie flying several meters, it didn’t matter. Zombies were durable.

In the outer ring, Little Eleven’s swallowtail knife danced like a butterfly, felling four wolves. Little White had just skewered its second, but three wolves now clung to it, their sharp bites scraping like chalk on a blackboard from Chen Mo’s childhood.

A particularly robust wolf darted into the inner ring, sprinting and leaping at Little Blondie. Many-Bones, guarding him, sent it tumbling ten meters with a single punch, without even shifting his stance.

Chen Mo knew this warrior wasn’t here for the tree. He was here to deal with him.

As the tree’s roars grew louder, the wolves grew fiercer, more charging in only to be scattered.

Their fury was futile. This team’s overwhelming strength had sealed the tree’s fate from the start.

When the tree finally crashed down, the skeletons bore extra tooth marks, the bucket zombie had a few dents, but the team was unscathed.

Little Blondie clapped his hands.

“Well done, everyone! The mission went smoothly. Now, harvest time!”

“Black-Eyes, go dig out the tree’s core.”

“Ellie, there’s a pond to the south with potential herbs nearby. Check it out, but be careful!”

“Eleven, protect her. Don’t let beasts disturb her gathering!”

“Let’s move, people! We need to be back at Breeze Path before dark. Hurry!”

Little Blondie’s orders were well-planned. On Blue Star, he’d be the kid running the class committee in elementary school, leading the brigade in middle school, and heading the student council in college.

Ellie vanished into the forest without looking back. Little Eleven glanced back a few times but stomped off to follow her.

Chen Mo’s task was to cut open the tree and extract its dark core.

He and Little White crouched over the fallen tree, Chen Mo deliberately facing Little Blondie.

His dagger slowly traced the bark, but his eyes stayed locked on Little Blondie and Many-Bones.

As Ellie and Little Eleven disappeared into the trees, Little Blondie turned back, one corner of his mouth curling into a deliberately sinister grin.

“Poor little guy, looks like you’ve accepted your fate!”

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