The entire tree is actually a massive ritual site, every floor, every "furniture", every detail that the mender put in here is part of this gigantic magic circle that must have taken years to build. Just thinking about the amount of time and effort the mender invested into making this place is almost enough to make me feel guilty for taking all of this from her.

  Problem is, I don't care about her enough to actually stop. To me, she's just some nonexistent NPC who's long lost items can be taken and used by the player.

  "Should have added diary entries with your feelings or something..." I trail off as I finally reach the top of the tree again. The first time I came here, I was crippled and barely surviving. Now, I have the entire set and the diabolical core of the Warped that acted as its guardian.

  Giving this place an inspection with the knowledge that I have now made me realize that the lines in the tree bark— things that I believed were runes at first. — are actually runes, and functional ones at that.

  The stone pedestal— the only anomaly in this entire tree, I should have figured out that it was special the moment that I laid my eyes on it. — inside the giant tree, the same one where I got the mender's cloak from, was meant to hold the "battery" of the ritual.

  On the other hand, the diabolical core needed to be absorbed by me and to do this, I had to specifically hold it once the ritual was active. The magic circle inside of this tree is only meant to be activated by someone who has the full mender's set, it wouldn't work otherwise.

  Said set is in my possession currently and so, after placing the empty dungeon core on the pedestal, the runic lines drawn all over the wood started to glow. Like proper circuits, they allowed mana to freely flow between them and soon, the entire interior was glowing with magic.

  If I was any more ignorant, I would say that this entire scene is straight out of a fairy tale but I refuse to believe that. Knowing that these lines of mana can corrupt anyone foolish enough to touch them is enough to bring me back to the reality of this world.

  As the ritual starts, I make my own preparations.

  First by drinking a bunch of stews— not potions. — that are supposed to help increase the chances of success and also stabilize my mind during the entire thing, followed by taking off my clothes and going nude.

  Technically, it's fine if I did wear clothes, but the ones that I have are enchanted with runes so there's a good chance that they can influence the ritual in some way.

  Eh, it's fine, I'll wear them again once this entire thing is finished. And this way, I actually have something to wear once my shirt and pants meld with my body.

  With my preparations done, I sit in the center of the room while holding the diabolical core and wait for the process to start.

  Strangely enough, I felt a bit ominous while waiting. It reminded me of the time Wardcruncha helped me awaken my magic. And yeah, I'm aware that the pain I'm about to go through will make the suffering from the awakening ritual feel like a pinch.

  Fun. I can't wait—

  The pain came so quickly that I didn't even get the chance to scream before it took over my body and paralyzed me completely.

  ...

  Laself looked around, over 7 dozen people, that's how many willingly took their side. This is both counting the ones in Flotol and... And the ones in the pier.

  The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

  How could those people betray them like this? She understood that the enemy had the church on their side but even then, do these people hold no sense of loyalty?

  Seeing them like this, Laself almost wishes that the bastards hunting them down would just get smited already. The Light surely knows that they are in the right, no? The demons wearing the skin of priests and bishops meanwhile do not deserve any kind of mercy.

  "Hey, are you okay?"

  Out of all the people who supported them, Laself expected her parents to never be part of that group, she really didn't know why.

  "I'm fine." Laself pulled her cloak together and let out a misty breath. "It's just the work these last few days have taken a toll on me, and our supplies are starting to dwindle as well, I feel as though we're on our last legs."

  "No, don't think that way, your food strengthens other people so we need your help." Her mother's words were like poison to her. Of course the woman's expectations would extend till now, when would they stop? Once she's dead?

  "I know that!" Laself screamed, attracting the attention of everyone inside the igloo. "Do you think I don't know how useful my own sub class is?!"

  "Laself..." Her mother backed away. "I'm simply encouraging you—"

  "Encouraging me to be what?! Huh?! To be better?! You keep telling me to do this and do that! Over and over!" She pulled on her hair, the pain in her scalp barely calmed her down and gave her reason, grounding her back to the present? Impossible. "I'm not perfect! I can't do everything!"

  "I-I know Laself." Her mother reached forward. "I know, okay? You're not perfect, you're only human."

  Instead of getting angrier, Laself broke down and fell to her mother's arms, muttering the words, "I can't do everything." Repeatedly.

  Atterson watched the scene unfold, the metaphorical pain in her heart becoming too much to bear and she feared that she may soon need to rip open the only scroll she refused to use.

  They didn't need Rontress, they really didn't, no matter what everyone else has been saying they did not need Rontress. They are independent and can stand on their own, Rontress one day will leave and what then? Are they gonna keep asking her for help even when she lives on her own? Even when she starts her own family?

  Her family cannot keep relying on her prodigal daughter forever, otherwise they would just keep holding Rontress chained to their side, unable to go out into the world and truly realize her potential.

  Atterson glared at her husband, he was fidgeting, but not because of her stare. "Don't even consider it."

  "Everyone is suffering." Thomala shook his head, his voice was weak and one of his arms had been hurt badly during one particularly bad encounter with the many adventurer teams looking for their heads.

  "I know, but we can fix this can't we?" Atterson gave a strained look towards Bylor, so far, the old man hasn't done anything to help them, he is content with simply staring at the forest every so often. "We need your help."

  "You need your daughter's help, and who knows," Bylor shrugged. "Maybe you asking for her to be here might aid her as well? You never know when your daughter is struggling, after all."

  "She's doing fine." Atterson hissed, not willing to even consider the thought of her daughter losing. That's simply impossible, isn't it? It didn't make sense to her. "What we need is you."

  "You don't need me, not right now." Bylor's smile was strangely cryptic. "And, well, I don't think I want to use magic in my current state, maybe one day?"

  "You can't use magic?" Atterson paled, all this time she assumed that Rontress' magic teacher was just pretending to be a homeless old man but he actually couldn't use magic?

  "Well, yeah." Bylor scoffed. "You've seen me back when you were still a kid didn't you, did you see me use magic then?"

  "... No. No you didn't." Atterson shook her head, the realization of just what she brought upon the people who willingly supported them finally dawned on her. She held her mouth in horror. "By the light..."

  "Yeah, you expected me to overpower large groups of adventurers? That can't and will never happen, I'm currently the weakest I've ever been and with all the things your daughter has been doing in that forest, I fear I might have to stay in my current state for a while." The sigh that followed Bylor's explanation was both borne of resignation and... also pride for Rontress?

  "Well... Maybe I can..." Atterson took out the scroll meant to call for Rontress— something that her daughter said should only be used in emergencies. — and considered using it. "Should I use this?"

  A burning arrow pierced through the walls of the igloo, shouts came from outside, Atterson looked at Bylor in panic and saw that the old man was calm.

  "You might not have a choice anymore, so, let me ask you again, do you want to use it?"