"Why did you hang up again, Captain?!"
The archer's face said everything his voice didn't. His wide eyes shouted the question, filled with disbelief.
The mage captain froze, mouth half-open. He couldn't find a proper explanation.
But before he could stammer anything out, a flash of white light began to rise around the resurrection altar.
First came the priest, then the giant-sword warrior, and finally the shield-bearer.
One by one, his teammates appeared again, each materializing with the same stunned, defeated expression.
"You…"
The mage's words stuck in his throat as yet another white silhouette took form. He watched them revive in sequence, his frustration boiling over.
"I—" the priest began, but his voice cracked. All three—priest, giant-sword warrior, and shield-bearer—lowered their heads in shame.
Finally, the warrior sighed and muttered, "That guy is not human."
Their words hung heavily in the air. None of them could understand what had just happened.
How could Lucas's damage output be that high? Even the heavily armored shield warrior—known for his defense and absurd health—had fallen after only a short clash.
They were all high-level job transferees, proudly sitting at Level 63, but they had been wiped out as if they were first-level recruits.
If a bystander had seen it, they would've sworn it was a max-level boss massacring rookies in the tutorial zone.
"I don't know where that freak came from," someone growled, "but he's a total monster!"
"He's definitely not a Level 43 Assassin. He must be a Level 100 hidden boss in disguise!"
"Probably used some kind of trick to fake his stats, pretending to be a weakling before slicing us up!"
"Shameless!" another spat, his pride shattered.
The group stumbled away from the resurrection altar, muttering curses and nursing their wounded egos.
The loss of their resurrection badges made it sting even more.
"So… should we call in reinforcements?" one of them asked nervously.
All eyes turned toward the mage captain. Hope flickered in their expressions, but so did fear.
After a long, tense pause, the mage sighed. "Never mind."
Their guild—Wild Wolf Guild, a seventh-tier medium organization—wasn't small, but it wasn't powerful either.
This squad was supposed to be their strongest group.
If they couldn't even scratch that mysterious assassin, who else could?
The enemy's abilities were abnormal. The visuals of his skills were unlike anything the mage had ever seen, and even his detection spells couldn't pierce the assassin's invisibility.
It wasn't just a higher level—it was a different dimension of power entirely.
Revenge was impossible.
The best they could do was pray that the assassin didn't decide to hunt them again.
Hearing their captain's verdict, everyone exhaled in relief. The idea of facing that man again sent chills down their spines. They hadn't even had a chance to fight back.
---
Meanwhile, back in the forest, Lucas wiped his dagger clean and muttered, "That's it? I thought they'd be tougher from all that shouting."
He tilted his head in mild confusion. "They couldn't even survive one of my skills. Were they really second-tier transfers?"
It made no sense.
Their confidence had been sky-high, as though victory was certain. Maybe they assumed five against one was an easy win.
Too bad for them.
After killing the mage first, Lucas had tossed a Detection Scroll toward the remaining three. The level data had come up as question marks—meaning they were at least fifteen levels higher than he was.
Yet despite that gap, they'd been crushed instantly.
The only one who'd lasted longer was the shield warrior, and even he only survived an extra few seconds before collapsing.
Lucas frowned. "So they must've been, what, mid-fifties? Maybe fifty-nine at most?"
He stood quietly, running through the battle again in his head, analyzing every movement and timing.
This was his first real fight against other job transferees outside the safety of the city.
Still, he didn't regret attacking first.
In this world, if you had power but refused to use it, you'd eventually lose everything. Fighting for your own interests was inevitable.
And besides, every warrior had to experience their first life-and-death duel sometime.
He nodded to himself. "Remember what worked. Adjust what didn't. Next time, be faster."
With that, he sheathed his dagger and continued toward his real destination—the Tree of Life.
Had the Wild Wolf Guild overheard his thoughts, they might've died a second time from rage.
They weren't "second-tier" at all—they were third-tier Level 63 elites!
To be mistaken for beginners was an insult worse than death.
---
The path to the Tree of Life was quiet. Every cursed elf that appeared along the way met the same fate—a clean, merciful death by Lucas's blade, releasing them from their eternal torment.
When he finally reached the enormous tree, he looked up and froze in awe.
The trunk was colossal, wide as a fortress wall, its bark etched with patterns that seemed to pulse faintly like veins of light.
He circled the base, muttering, "This thing is huge… where am I even supposed to start?"
After a moment's thought, he pulled out the ancient wooden nameplate he had collected earlier. "If the quest marker is right, there should be a hidden entrance somewhere."
Holding the wooden sign, Lucas began to walk slowly around the Tree of Life's perimeter, searching for any reaction.
His boots crunched softly on the roots and fallen leaves as the forest wind whispered above.
After walking for several miles, the wooden sign suddenly began to glow with a soft green light.
Lucas's eyes lit up. "There we go—it's close!"
He carefully examined every inch of the bark until he spotted it: a shallow mark, nearly invisible unless you knew where to look.
When he brought the glowing nameplate closer, its light flared even brighter.
"This must be it."
He pressed his hand against the mark and fitted the nameplate into place.
Immediately, a system prompt appeared before his eyes:
> "You can use the Nameplate of the Tree of Life to enter its inner space.
Confirm entry: Yes / No."
Lucas grinned. "Bingo."
Without hesitation, he selected Yes.
At once, the mark on the trunk began to shine. The faint line spread rapidly, connecting with other hidden symbols until a complex magic circle emerged across the surface.
The circle pulsed once, twice—and then released a blinding light that engulfed Lucas completely.
When his vision cleared, he found himself standing in a completely different place.
---
"This is… the inner space of the Tree of Life?" he murmured, eyes wide. "So this is what the nameplate led to."
The surroundings were breathtaking. He stood in what looked like a vast, enclosed palace made entirely of living emerald crystal.
The walls, though resembling wood, pulsed softly with veins of glowing green light. Countless floating orbs of energy drifted through the air, bathing the entire space in a gentle radiance.
It wasn't dark at all; it was like stepping into a sacred cathedral built from nature itself.
The air thrummed with pure vitality, and every breath filled his lungs with warmth.
"It's beautiful," Lucas whispered. "Could this be the Elves' hidden sanctuary—a place only their queen could enter?"
He began to move carefully through the chamber. The space stretched endlessly, far larger than he had expected—even bigger than the Elf King's Court he'd explored earlier.
After several minutes of walking, he came upon a massive stone door, towering at least twenty meters high.
Ancient inscriptions and runes covered its surface, swirling in patterns that shimmered faintly when touched by the ambient light.
He squinted, trying to make sense of the carvings. The language was clearly elvish—elegant but unreadable.
However, the images told a story all on their own.
He traced the patterns with his fingers, piecing the images together. Slowly, the meaning revealed itself.
The murals depicted a terrifying shadowy creature, covered in countless writhing tentacles.
Long ago, it had been sealed by the elves using the power of the Tree of Life itself.
But something had gone wrong. The creature broke free once, unleashing a catastrophic disaster upon the forest.
Countless elves had perished trying to subdue it again. Though they managed to re-seal the monster, the cost had been unimaginable.
Even then, the seal wasn't perfect. The creature's corruption leaked out, twisting the forest into a cursed wasteland.
Over the decades, this poison seeped into every living being.
Those who once danced beneath the Tree's leaves became mindless puppets, their bodies infected, their souls chained to the will of the dark force.
Even the Elf Queen herself had fallen.
Overcome by the curse, she had gone mad, her spirit eroded by despair. In her final lucid moment, she had chosen to seal herself within the forest, hoping to contain the spreading darkness.
Lucas clenched his fist as realization struck.
He had been the one who ended her suffering earlier—his blade freeing her from that curse.
Before dying, the queen had whispered a single plea: to find and destroy the source of the corruption.
And now, standing before this ancient sealed door, he finally understood what she meant.
The source—the heart of the curse—was sealed right behind this gate.
A chill ran down his spine. He could almost feel it—a faint, pulsing malevolence leaking through the cracks of the ancient barrier.
"Looks like I found you," he murmured, eyes narrowing. "The thing that ruined this forest… you're behind this door."
He took a slow step forward, placing his palm on the cold stone.
The door vibrated faintly, responding to the energy within his body and the faint glow of the nameplate still clutched in his other hand.
Whatever lay beyond, he knew it wouldn't be easy. But his path was already set.
With a deep breath, Lucas tightened his grip on his dagger and prepared to face the darkness waiting beyond.
---
End of Chapter 133 – Easy Instant Kill
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