Vrant approached Daroon slowly. His massive footsteps once again shook the earth. After a few strides, he halted right in front of Daroon.
His deep green eyes gazed down at Daroon in silence. A brief hush fell, and Vrant began to scrutinize Daroon quietly. His gaze started at the helmet, trailed over the armor, and slowly shifted to the halberd clutched in Daroon's hand.
Finally, Vrant's mouth—rough and sturdy like tree bark—parted. A deep, resonant voice flowed out in the tongues of the Dawi and Muwa.
"... Descendant of Mirasar, Lord of the Rivers, if you would... step aside for a moment."
His voice rumbled low and gravelly. Though not loud, it carried a solid weight, imbued with an unyielding strength. The sound didn't merely linger in the ears but penetrated deep into the chest.
Daroon bowed his head deeply and retreated further back.
"As you wish, ancient guardian."
His voice was laced with profound respect.
Passing by Daroon's side, Vrant took a few more slow steps forward and drew in a deep breath. The leaves covering his body rustled, and the surrounding air seemed to be sucked toward him with a whooshing sound.
Then, Vrant roared.
"RRRRRAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!"
The sound pushed against the ground and spread outward. Fallen leaves fluttered up and scattered, tree trunks split in various directions and trembled all at once. The flames that had been burning throughout the forest were quelled by the reverberation, dying out as if their breath had been extinguished. All that remained was a faint haze of smoke.
The entire forest shuddered under that cry. Even the largest trees, with their deepest roots, quaked, and the burning trunks turned to ash and dispersed.
The Minotaurs halted their advance, flinching and recoiling backward.
The colossal bellow hammered their ears and assaulted their hearts, igniting fear in their fierce gazes.
None dared to step forward, their hooves sliding uneasily backward on the soil.
The Minotaurs, who had been flaunting their might just moments ago, now couldn't advance a single step before Vrant's roar, their breaths coming in ragged gasps.
As Vrant's cry ended, an eerie stillness blanketed the forest. It seemed as if all sounds had vanished. Even the whisper of the wind had ceased.
Vrant's eyes gleamed brightly for an instant. That light intensified momentarily, casting green shadows along the grain of the bark around his eyes.
"To the invaders of the green... the price for burning Tharn's trees... must be paid... It is atonement... by becoming nourishment for the forest..."
For Vrant, who had guarded this forest longer than mortals could remember, the burning of the trees was no different from his own body being scorched. With every tree that fell, a heavy darkness of fury settled deep in his heart.
An increasingly intense light began to dwell in Vrant's verdant eyes.
Vrant started moving toward the Minotaurs.
At first, he walked slowly. But soon his pace quickened—from a walk to a brisk stride, then to a full run. The charge of the colossal tree giant sent dull vibrations through the ground with every step.
Each time his thick, root-like legs kicked against the earth, soil sprayed in all directions, and stones ricocheted away. Deep footprints were etched wherever his steps landed.
As Vrant's enormous form barreled through the trees, the branches blocking his path seemed to shrink back on their own.
Even ancient boughs twisted aside as if unwilling to break before him, and vines quietly slithered out of the way to clear a path.
Vrant, too, seemed averse to causing them pain; he extended his massive hands to gently brush the branches aside. Beneath his touch, the boughs bent softly, and after he passed, not a single snapped fragment remained—the branches returned serenely to their places. The forest yielded a path to him, and he raged for the forest's sake.
The Minotaur commander, witnessing this, panicked. Yet he could not retreat. He gripped his massive double-bladed axe firmly with both hands, preparing to meet Vrant.
"Élthe! Dendríon téras! (Come! Tree monster!)"
The Minotaur commander exhaled a rough breath as he raised the axe. The sinews in his thick forearms bulged, and veins on the backs of his hands swelled as if ready to burst. Thick green smoke billowed from his mouth and eyes, while his back, shoulders, and forearms twisted with muscle.
In that moment, the Minotaur commander's axe blade gleamed with a deep green hue. It was a shade unlike Vrant's eyes—resembling the murky depths of swamp moss. This green pattern rose like sprouting vines from his forearms up to his shoulders, flowing along the axe's haft to the very edge of the blade.
The Minotaur commander channeled all his strength. He planted his advancing foot firmly into the ground, twisted his entire core, and swung the axe's blade downward toward Vrant's leg.
Boom!
The axe dug into Vrant's leg. A tremendous impact echoed, accompanied by fragments of bark scattering in every direction.
Yet Vrant didn't even turn his head. The axe was embedded in his leg, but the thick wood beneath the bark was unyielding, leaving only a shallow gash where it had struck.
At the point of impact, the cracked slabs of thick bark began to shift slowly, gradually knitting back together.
Hard bark fragments rose up through the gaps, clamping down on the blade, and under that pressure, the axe edge was gradually forced out from within the bark, as if being expelled.
The Minotaur commander's hands clutched at empty air.
The axe he had been holding slipped from his grasp, rolling across the ground a few times before coming to a stop at his feet.
The dense aura of sorcery that had enveloped the massive double-bladed axe had already dissipated.
Vrant's enormous hand descended over the commander's head.
Fingers made of branches fully enveloped the commander's skull. The iron helmet creaked between the twigs. The sound of metal bending began to emerge.
"Krgh... KAagh..."
The commander's short groan leaked out between Vrant's fingers.
The Minotaur commander thrashed to escape Vrant's grasp, but it was futile. Even his sorcery-enhanced strength was meaningless before Vrant.
Vrant began to apply pressure to his hand, bit by bit.
First came the dull snap of the helmet's ornamental horns breaking... then the helmet itself started to crumple. The sound of metal crumpling rang out. The helmet's shape distorted, squeezing the commander's head.
"Araaagh!"
The Minotaur commander's groans grew louder.
Vrant exerted more force.
The helmet fully crushed, beginning to compress the commander's cranium. Bones creaked under the strain.
"Kaaaaaaah!!!"
The commander screamed in agony.
Finally, the skull could endure no more and began to fracture.
The helm trapped in Vrant's grip completely deformed, and from within came a dull sound mingled with the helmet's crushing noise.
The cracking of iron and bone, unable to withstand the pressure, continued.
As the horns trapped within the helmet snapped with a 'crack-crunch,' the skull beneath shattered, the sounds cascading.
A short scream escaped, carrying the weight of torment, along with labored breaths.
-Craaack-crunch-crunch-crunch!-
The commander's body went limp, all strength draining away. His massive form dangled from Vrant's hand. Dark crimson blood trickled from his head between Vrant's fingers.
When Vrant released his grip, the commander's corpse thudded to the ground. His enormous body hit the earth with a heavy impact. Blood flowing from the crushed head soaked the soil and spread outward.
Vrant turned his head skyward and bellowed.
"Yisarn Harr Hauraat!"
That cry was in the language of the Vrants, unheard in Tharn's forest for ages of untold. It was a call to Aornn.
Aornn, who had been lingering beside Tirrellda, reacted instantly to the summons. His small body twitched, then straightened abruptly, turning his head toward the direction of the sound. In that instant, Aornn's eyes blazed with intense green light.
Aornn's legs kicked swiftly against the ground, propelling his body forward. Dust trailed behind, and vanished from Tirrellda's sight in a flash. The patter of running feet echoed in succession, but Aornn was already far away. And in that moment, changes began to unfold in Aornn's form.
From beneath Aornn's feet, woody vines burst through the soil. At first, they resembled slender, fragile branches, but in an instant, they thickened to the girth of sturdy tree trunks. Dozens of vines writhed like serpents, enveloping Aornn's small body.
The vines intertwined and twisted, wrapping around Aornn's form as if donning armor. They covered Aornn's chest, encased his back, and coiled around his legs. The vines moved as if alive, merging seamlessly with Aornn's body.
Aornn's size grew progressively larger—surpassing that of a wolf, then swelling to the stout bulk of a young bear. But the transformation didn't halt there. It continued to expand until Aronn reached the colossal stature of a warhorse.
The vines enveloping Aornn's body began to alter gradually.
What had been soft and pliable vines thickened, their surfaces roughening, and soon they shifted to a deep brown hue. The vines, once pulsing with the breath of life, hardened in an instant like the bark of ancient trees.
Dozens of strands wove around Aornn, solidifying into tough bark that shielded his back and flanks. It was as if the forest itself had forged this armor.
Changes occurred on Aornn's head as well. Two sturdy horns protruded from his forehead, crafted from bark, exuding a sharp and indomitable menace that seemed capable of piercing any armor.
Aornn's teeth and claws transformed in shape. The once small and endearing fangs elongated, morphing into keen, edged daggers of obsidian-like sharpness. Each sleek tooth and claw gleamed like finely honed shards of black iron.
Racing toward Vrant, Aornn had now fully become a massive beast. Aornn's body, clad in bark and vines, loomed oppressively large, with sharp teeth and claws fully embodying the form of a predator.
A hound born of the forest—cloaked in bark and vines, armed with obsidian-like claws and horns—Aornn charged alongside Vrant toward the Minotaurs.
The nearest Minotaur raised his spear, attempting to thrust it into Vrant. The spear tip hurtled toward him. But before it could connect, Vrant's massive hand seized the Minotaur.
Branch-like fingers enveloped the Minotaur's entire body. Slender vines extended from the rough branches, slithering over the iron armor and coiling around the torso. The branches tightened slowly over the armor, which began to buckle.
"Uwaaagh!"
The Minotaur's scream erupted—a sound twisted by terror and pain.
Vrant applied force to his hand. The iron armor crumpled like a withered leaf. The sound of metal shattering rang out. The Minotaur's body inside began to compress under the pressure.
The Minotaur's ribs started snapping one by one.
As the ribs fractured sequentially, they pierced his innards, and when his lungs burst, blood-tinged breath escaped in ragged foam.
Foam-laced blood poured from the Minotaur's mouth. His screams grew increasingly desperate.
Vrant exerted even more strength in his grip. The sound of the Minotaur's spine shattering echoed.
"..."
The Minotaur's body went utterly limp. When Vrant released his hold, the crushed corpse thudded to the forest floor.
With a dull impact as the body hit the ground, another group charged toward Vrant.
Vrant immediately pivoted, swinging his arms wide toward the Minotaurs.
His massive arm traced a semicircle, sending several Minotaurs flying at once—crashing into rocks or slamming into the earth.
"Gaaaagh!"
The Minotaurs' screams burst forth from all around.
But Vrant did not stop. He swung both arms simultaneously. Those on the left fell, and the group struck by the following right arm also crashed to the ground or smashed against boulders.
The dull cracks of bones breaking and the erupting screams intertwined, filling the forest depths.