Chapter 75 – The Soil Rejects Him
The forest no longer breathed with him.
Ironroot felt it the moment his boot touched the surface beyond the cavern's hidden mouth. The ground was no longer a welcoming pulse beneath his feet. It was stiff. Cold. Defensive. As though the Blackwood had locked its veins and pulled its pulse inward, shrinking from his presence.
For the first time since the awakening, the forest did not recognize him as its own.
That knowledge settled on his shoulders like wet ash.
Above them, the sky hung low and heavy, swollen with clouds that barely moved. No stars. No moon. Only darkness layered upon darkness. Even the wind had abandoned the trees. Yet… the leaves still trembled.
Not from air.
From fear.
Shadowblade stepped out of the stone passage behind him, her gaze narrowing as she scanned the silent treeline.
"It's too quiet," she muttered. "Even for this place."
Titanbound followed, rolling his shoulders like he was resisting an invisible weight. "Feels like walking into a grave that hasn't decided who it belongs to yet."
Ironroot didn't respond.
He was listening.
The roots beneath his soles did not whisper greetings as they always had. Instead, there was tension — a faint resistance in the soil, like hands bracing against him, ready to push him back.
Slowly, he lowered his hand and pressed his palm against a nearby tree trunk, expecting the familiar surge, the sense of connection, the answering warmth.
Nothing happened.
The bark was just bark.
Dead wood around living fibre.
He pulled his hand back as if insulted.
Shadowblade watched him closely. "Don't tell me… you can't hear it."
"I can," he said, but the certainty wasn't there anymore. "It just isn't answering."
A sudden snap sounded deeper in the forest.
Not a branch breaking.
A step.
Then another.
Then another.
Slow.
Measured.
Circling.
Ironroot's jaw tightened. "We're not alone."
From the darkness between the trees, faint shapes began to emerge. At first they looked like men — hunched silhouettes, uneven stances, dragging feet. But as they came closer, the truth bent the air with dread.
They were grown, not born.
Bodies twisted from bark and soil. Limbs too long, fingers tipped with root-like claws. Faces half-formed with bark splitting into crude mouths and hollow eyes that glowed faint green — the same green that once answered Ironroot's call.
Now those eyes held something else.
Suspicion.
Judgement.
"Oath-broken," one of the figures rasped, its voice splintered like dead wood in a fire.
Another tilted its head unnaturally. "Root-twisted… stained by the Deep Dark…"
Titanbound clenched his fists, flames starting to coil along his forearms. "Since when do the trees send soldiers?"
"They're not soldiers," Shadowblade whispered. "They're a warning."
Ironroot stepped forward slowly, raising his hands, not in surrender, but in calm appeal.
"I am still your guardian," he said to them, his voice carrying through the stillness. "Whatever touched you came through me… but I did not invite it. I'm here to drive it out."
The creatures hesitated.
And for a moment, he thought it worked.
But then the forest groaned.
A deep, ancient sound. A sound of disappointment.
The one standing closest pointed a crooked finger at his chest.
"You carried it inside you," it hissed. "You let it taste the veins of the world. Now the world questions you."
The words cut deeper than any blade.
Suddenly, without signal, three of the creatures lunged forward.
Not to kill.
To test.
Titanbound exploded into motion, slamming one with a blazing fist that shattered bark and sent twisted roots flying. Shadowblade moved like a living shadow, slicing through another's leg, dropping it soundlessly to the soil.
Ironroot raised his hand instinctively — commanding roots to rise, to bind, to control.
Nothing.
The ground resisted him again.
A thin, dark vine suddenly snapped up from beneath and wrapped around his ankle — not from his will, but against it. It burned cold through his skin, feeding off the darkness brushed into his bond.
He growled and tore it apart with brute strength, but the hesitation had cost him.
One of the tree-creatures grabbed his shoulder. Its touch was icy, ancient, furious.
"You are no longer pure," it whispered, leaning close to his ear. "You smell like the one beneath stone…"
The earth heaved.
All the creatures froze at once, their bodies stiff, heads tilting upward as if hearing a command more powerful than any Ironroot could give.
A presence had arrived.
Not from the fissure.
Not from the forest.
But from beyond the forest.
Far away… something enormous gripped the land with its attention. The vibration of it rolled through the roots like a distant storm finally making up its mind to break.
Titanbound felt it too. He looked up sharply.
"You feel that, don't you?" he asked Shadowblade.
She nodded once. "Yes… and it's not just watching anymore."
The tree-creatures slowly pulled back into the darkness, retreating, not in fear — but in obedience to something higher than their nature.
Within moments, they merged with the trunks and soil, dissolving back into the forest like they had never been.
Only three remained.
Standing in a triangular formation before Ironroot.
"You still stand on this land because balance has not yet chosen," one said. "But your presence now tips the scale."
"You will either become our shield," another added, "or the wound we cannot heal."
The third did not speak.
It simply bowed, very slightly, then dissolved into roots and vanished.
Silence reclaimed the forest once more.
But it was not the same silence as before.
Now it was aware.
Judging.
Waiting.
Shadowblade stepped to Ironroot's side. Her gaze was no longer just protective. Now there was a fragment of doubt.
"Whatever is connected to you… is terrifying the forest itself."
Titanbound crossed his arms, staring at Ironroot thoughtfully. "And I need to know something, brother… because when this finally comes for us… I need to know if you're going to stand with me… or if I'll be standing against you too."
Ironroot said nothing for a long moment.
He looked down at his hands again.
The faint green glow returned — but woven through it now were thin, almost invisible threads of darkness, moving beneath the surface like ink in water.
"I don't feel like myself anymore," he admitted quietly. "But I am still fighting to stay on this side of the line."
Far off in the distance, a deep horn-like sound echoed once through the night.
Low…
Ancient…
Calling.
Shadowblade turned slowly toward the mountains. "That wasn't from any creature I know."
Ironroot's eyes lifted toward the sound.
And this time, the ground beneath him did not resist.
Instead…
It trembled in recognition.