Knight of Corruption (LitRPG)

36 - Small Man

Everyone gathered around a small fire-pit that one of the soldiers had made. The dim flame provided a small amount of warmth on what was a frigid and overcast morning. The clearance in the clouds above kept the wet away. How this tree controlled the weather in such a manner was a wonder.

The question on everyone's lips was the same as it was before. What were we going to do with the tree? The Amendment had been put into a tough spot, I didn't know how they were going to break if it came down to a vote. They'd invested a lot of time and reputation into casting Benadora as the villain in this situation. If we removed the tree and the giant problem came to an end, they'd be the losers. But they couldn't reasonably argue to keep it without telling us more about it.

Fernwell stood at the head of the group and decided to put the screws to Cranston, "Is there anything you'd like to tell us, Cranston? You are the most erudite scholar amongst us."

Cranston shook his head, "I know nothing more than what I have already said. These trees are often regarded as myth or a tall tale. The researcher in me demands that we preserve it for further study."

"You know that's not going to happen. This place is extremely dangerous, and if it's causing the giants to come to Pascen – they won't go away until it's dealt with."

Indeed, several groups of giants had walked by during the night, at least according to Cali. This was a hotspot of giant movement. A group of scholars wouldn't be able to spend a large amount of time here without very dedicated protection.

Fernwell snapped his fingers, "I'm making the call. This tree is going goodbye." One of the mercenaries wield a large axe was given the go-ahead. He carried his bulky body to the tree and stood under the branches with an apprehensive look. He hefted the axe into the air and attempted to slice through the trunk.

With a thunk the blade bounced right off.

He was puzzled. He studied the edge of his axe to ensure that it had not become blunted when he wasn't looking. Satisfied that it didn't need sharpening, he tried again, only to replicate the result. Throwing up his arms in defeat, he returned to his jeering comrades. "It's as tough as steel!" he declared, "It doesn't have a bloody scratch on it!"

True to his word, the whitened bark was completely untouched from both the impact and the sharp point. I approached and inspected the area where they met with the tip of my finger. Stigma emerged from behind the trunk with that characteristic malicious smile.

"I can help you, Master. These buffoons will not discover the way themselves."

"And what would that be?"

"These trees are formed from light. They are extremely durable to conventional attack. Unless... someone is wielding a certain sword of darkness."

"Let me guess, you?"

"Well done Master! By using my magical power, we can strip the tree of it's protection and rot it from the inside."

"But if I draw you here, all hell's going to break loose. I can't trust any of these people."

The Inquisitors were irritating enough in their own right, but they also had a cult-like following of informants and collaborators. Why anyone placed their trust in them was baffling. To the layman they were infallible defenders of light. They'd scarper away like a rat in a sewer and tell them every little detail of whatever crime had allegedly been committed.

Any one of the people in the camp could be waiting to spill the beans.

The Inquisitors didn't like visiting the Rumbling Coast. Adel only got through with the graces of coming alone. A larger hunting party would be turned back at the border by the Feddies. But if they had reason to believe Stigma was here, they'd find a way to track me. It was an open secret that they had civilian spies in every major town and city on the continent, and even some in major foreign ports.