She had activated her origin skill, [Fragmented Tongue of Babel], alongside her basic skill, [Verdant Growth], and the unison combination effects were immediate and violent.
The purple tree she had conjured trembled as though possessed by rage, like a wrathful Ent woken from ancient slumber.
It surged upward, its bark splitting with cracks that glowed from within, pulsating with verdant energy.
KRRRAAACK-thrummm!
Roots plunged deep into the minor world beneath her feet, anchoring themselves with hunger and purpose as the tree's mass expanded uncontrollably, consuming every inch of space it touched.
Joo-Hee's throat felt like the desert—dry, cracked, and burning—but the pain was manageable, tempered by the constant restoration from the [Exclusive Class Quest Scroll], which rejuvenated her body even after sacrificing nearly a third of her mana.
Gritting her teeth, she forced the Origin Skill again, ancient golden runes crawling across her burning mouth, desiccated throat, and down her jawline like a ritual brand.
This time, attempting more than a word.
<
The moment the words left her mouth, the runes shone immense as every word let out a screeching music of death and absolute command.
Knowing what was coming, she violently coughed up blood. Thick, dark crimson splattered the bark and glowing mushroom around her as blood streamed from her nostrils, her ears, and even her skin pores.
But rather than show fear, pain, and mental exhaustion like before, she now smiled—wide, twitching, eyes dilated like a madwoman brainwashed by a cult.
She laughed, soft and breathless, as waves of agony licked at her insides.
It was ecstasy.
She was reliving it again—memories from lives buried deep.
The 212th life, where he was a vengeful, justified murderer.
The 439th, where he drowned in the intoxication of power as a teenage prodigy.
The 821st, where he slit throats with a smile as a psychotic killer.
The 1791st, where she had been born with CIPA, a girl unable to feel pain… and had stabbed herself hundreds of times just to see if she could feel anything at all.
But none of it mattered now.
The pain she endured was real—and fleeting. The scroll healed her near-instantly, undoing ruptured veins, shattered capillaries, and torn muscle. Her body stitched itself back together before her laughter even faded.
"These damned memories…" she whispered hoarsely, a twisted smile spreading across her bloodied lips. "They never cease to impress me. Who would've thought my mind would be craving more… when not long ago, I was terrified of pain."
She laughed, low and bitter. "This... is ridiculous... and fun."
With a thought, she commanded the tree to absorb her spilled blood.
The roots obeyed.
Slithering upward like serpents, the tree consumed every droplet of blood as if it were sacred nourishment.
Then, stomping once inside the tree's trunk, she felt its response—an almost sentient rumble as it raised her body upward, lifting her above the canopy.
What she saw made her breath hitch—not in fear, but in awe.
The tree had mutated.
No longer just a creation of nature, it had become a parasitic behemoth that devoured and dominated everything in its path.
Its bark flexing and pulsing as it siphoned nutrients from the surrounding soil, swallowing nearby trees, consuming life like a predator.
What had once been a modest four-meter purple tree had now grown to eleven meters… and was still climbing.
From each of its split, gnarled roots emerged jagged extensions that slithered like tendrils, then split further into parasitic root cages.
Each cage snapped into place around the goblins below, writhing and compressing until the creatures were completely bound.
The goblins screamed, their green bodies thrashing against the unrelenting prison, but none escaped. They merely couldn't.
Joo-Hee watched the chaos unfold with a serene smile stretched across her blood-streaked face.
It was the announcement that the hunt had begun.
Activating [Nature Resonance], she let her consciousness spread through the towering tree's monstrous body. Every root, every twisted branch, every inch of wood pulsed with her awareness.
She could feel the captured goblins—elderly, infants, warriors, and civilians—each one ensnared by parasitic root cages. Their terrified screams echoed across the overgrown landscape, pleading over and over for a figure named [Gral] to save them.
No one came.
She listened passively as the cries blended into white noise. Using the same skill, she pushed her senses deeper into the earth, scanning for treasures, veins of metal, mana-imbued stones, buried relics—anything of value.
The tree responded, its roots shifting and writhing as they pulled objects to the surface like skeletal hands excavating the tombs of the dead.
Useless trinkets and rare artifacts alike began piling up at the tree's base—ores, forgotten tools, rusted weapons, mana crystals, broken scrolls.
She 'borrowed' them all.
...
Three hours passed.
By the time she halted the tree's advance, she had captured a staggering 19,862 goblins and unearthed over four thousand uncategorized and categorized items.
The once modest tree had evolved into an eighteen-meter-tall behemoth, its roots stretching across nearly half a thousand kilometers of terrain. It became increasingly harder to control, forcing her to use her origin skill repeatedly to keep it in check.
Without it, the tree might have broken free entirely, becoming a disaster too great even for her to tame.
During this period, she initiated a long-overdue conversation with [Arcana], who had since become more responsive after reintegration. Through their mental link, she learned several crucial truths.
The system core, though functional, was still heavily damaged and now required soul fragments, after its connection to its power line was severed, to continue operating efficiently and healing itself.
Joo-hee also learned that once her kill count reached 10,000, a spatial rift would forcibly eject her from this minor world. Learning this, she continued with a wide-range capture plan.
With her mind and soul tempered by the amalgamation of countless memory fragments and further fortified by the overwhelming nourishment of the power of Fate, she no longer feared mental collapse.
The pain from continuous skill usage and physical torment, once a threat to her sanity, now passed through her like ripples on still water. The class scroll had also done its job well.
What followed after was even greater revelations.
Because [Arcana] was now disconnected from the Mother Library, it could no longer access information beyond the [Worldview of Solo Leveling].
It even explained the system's often cryptic responses and silence in earlier moments—it had, in truth, been a newborn, restricted and blind, operating under suffocating directives from its creators.
Joo-Hee confirmed every word as truthful.
Not once had the [Gray Thread of Lies] manifested during the entire conversation. The lack of deception, combined with Arcana's evolving personality and growing reverence toward her, made it clear that it had never lied.
Through her deepening link with her system, Joo-Hee finally came to understand the fundamental structure of her system. [Arcana] explained that every time the host killed a monster, the [Alphaterium]—now [Arcana]—devoured the entire soul of that creature.
The process didn't just end with absorption; the consumed soul would be purified and refined, converted into nourishment for the host in the form of stat points, experience, and level growth.
It was a complete and violent recycling of essence—life repurposed into strength.
[Arcana] even detailed the conversion rates of various soul types. Stronger creatures offered more potent gains, while weaker ones gave little more than scraps. The economy of power was brutal, exact, and efficient.
Curious, Joo-Hee had inquired about the possibility of a portable space—something akin to an inventory system. [Arcana] had confirmed that such a thing could indeed be created, provided they acquired and devoured the right materials. Once assimilated, [Arcana] could bind the space to her soul alone, making it an exclusive extension of her system.
For the first time, Joo-Hee genuinely thought, 'Finally, some clues on how to get an inventory. It's a pity the shop function is gone, but... I suppose this is better than nothing.'
She even chuckled quietly, thinking back that she slightly regretted using that golden ticket. It now seemed laughable in hindsight. That moment of hesitation had bloomed into absolute power and greater control.
Now, standing at the very top of the gigantic tree, she stepped off the living hammock woven from its upper branches. Stretching her arms skyward, she exhaled slowly, her joints popping lightly as if her body, too, acknowledged the end.
"It really is a pity," she murmured to no one. "But I guess… this is enough."
Beneath her, this specific area of the minor world, [Kinobgral], lay in ruin.
What had once been a vibrant purple forest was now a barren expanse of soil and ash. The only living thing remaining was her tree—a grotesque monument of growth and consumption.
Its roots had spread far and wide, stretching into a sprawling neural network of wooden nodes, each one pulsing with parasitic vitality.
Thousands of circular cages, woven from the same wood, dotted the land like tumors. Within each were goblins screaming, crying, begging for mercy that would never come. They pleaded for salvation, calling for gods or saviors.
"G-Gral! Gral! Hear! Hear us, spawn-father! Drop your sky-blade! Save kin!"
"Earth angry! Earth scream! WHY?! What we do?! WHAT WE DO?!"
"She rot-spirit! Flesh-eater! Soul-drinker! She will end us!"
"Mercy! Mercy! Take claws, take blood, take all! Just spare clutch! SPARE US!"
"Root-Mother, I hear gruntling… take me, but please leave the hatchlings! Please!"
"Gral! Kill her! She dare spit on your name! She MOCKS your teeth!"
"She laugh… she LAUGH while we scream! What is she? What IS SHE?!"
But none answered.
Joo-Hee looked down at them, her golden-silver hair catching the corrupted sunlight like a crown of defiance.
"I'm no God," she said softly, her voice drifting through the breeze.
She paused, then scoffed with a half-smile, as if finding humor in the irony of it all.
"But if it's salvation you want…" Her eyes narrowed.
"…Then please die~ for me~!"
She raised both arms like a conductor at the peak of a performance and then clasped her hands together with a thunderous crack.
CLAP—KHRAAAWM!!
In that instant, the wooden nodes constricted violently.
The cages tightened—merciless, unrelenting—as shrill cries and bone-snapping pressure echoed across the ruined land. The goblins screeched in unison, a chorus of agony and despair.
The air trembled, saturated with sound—a wailing dirge so twisted and full of hate that even banshees would have fallen silent in fear.
"Gral! GRAL, SAVE US—AAGHHKK!!"
"No more—NO MORE, PLEASE!"
"My legs! MY LEGS! THEY'RE BREAKING—!"
"Don't crush me—don't crush me—DON'T CRUSH ME!!"
"Mama—mama—mama—it hurts!"
The sound traveled for kilometers, a storm of grief and blood and death. And atop it all, Joo-Hee stood, not as a hero, not as a villain—but a smiling spectator.
"Hah~ scream for me, goblins~!"
The fate of the tens of thousands of goblins had already been sealed.
Death, that is.