Episode : Roots of Purification and the Truth of Ancient Creatures
Rian and his companions finally brought both the untainted root and the corrupted root to Ervan.Beneath the towering tree that marked his domain, they prepared to use the roots' power to cleanse the forest.
Ervan gazed at the two roots lying side by side, and a deep light flared in his eyes. His voice resonated through the trees and the whispering wind.
Ervan:"These roots represent life and death within this forest. The corrupted root has been the source of its decay, while the untainted root… is the key to its purification."
Serin studied the corrupted root. The aura clinging to it made her skin crawl, as though the corruption itself were brushing against her.
Serin:"This root… it must be burned. Only then can nature find its balance again."
Ervan nodded, summoning a natural flame to aid her.
Rian:"Ervan, burning the corrupted root alone won't end this. Something deeper caused this forest to fall into corruption."
A silence fell before Ervan answered, his voice like the groaning of ancient bark.
Ervan:"The corruption of these roots is no mere stain. Long ago, this forest was a battlefield. That war scarred the earth and all living things. From that scar came the first creations: the Aranuk, the Golems, and the Spirits of the Earth."
Serin tossed the corrupted root into the fire and asked quietly:
Serin:"The Aranuk, the Golems, and the Earth Spirits… were they all connected?"
The flames crackled as Ervan's deep voice rolled on.
Ervan:"Yes. The Aranuk were the first creatures, born from the hands of the Titans. They were guardians of the earth, not merely in strength, but in essence itself. When an Aranuk fell, the land itself trembled… and from their remnants, Golems were forged by ancient civilizations."
Rian's eyes narrowed as he absorbed the words.
Rian:"Then the Golems are their descendants, in a sense. But why do the Earth Spirits stand apart from them?"
Ervan:"Because while the Golems were crafted by mortal hands, the Earth Spirits were born purely of nature. They exist to heal, to protect, to preserve—never to serve. And yet… Aranuk, Golems, Earth Spirits—they all share one root. The primal source that flows beneath this land."
Kaïren crossed his arms thoughtfully.
Kaïren:"So they all guarded the earth in their own way, but shared the same origin. That's why this corruption has spread to them all."
Ervan turned his gaze from the burning root to Kaïren.
Ervan:"Exactly. This corruption does not strike one creature alone—it poisons the very earth, and every being tied to it. When the Aranuk fell, when the Golems were shaped by mortals, that wound seeped into the Earth Spirits as well. Slowly, they, too, were tainted."
Rian clenched his sword, the firelight reflecting in his eyes.
Rian:"So the Earth Spirits we fought… they weren't simply hostile—they were part of that same chain of corruption. The Aranuk, the Golems, the Spirits—all bound, all scarred."
Ivela:"Then every act of purification reaches deeper than we see. Every flame we light touches the roots of the earth itself."
Serin nodded as the corrupted root burned away, black smoke curling skyward.
Serin:"This won't end with one root. To free the Spirits, the Aranuk, and the Golems… we'll have to dig deeper. We'll have to find the true source."
Ervan watched the flames and spoke one final time.
Ervan:"This forest's healing has only begun. The root has been cleansed—but the shadow of the Old One remains. Only by finding what lies deeper can the land return to balance."
Rian's grip tightened on his blade.
Rian:"Then that's where we go next. If the earth keeps bleeding corruption… it will swallow us all."
****
Episode : Shadow of the Old One and the Soul of the Forest
The corrupted root burned, its smoke twisting into the cold air. Serin watched the fire and felt the forest stir, as if waking from a long sleep. But unease pricked her senses.
Serin:"Something's wrong… the root is burning, but the air feels heavier."
From the depths of the woods, faint figures began to emerge—the spirits of the forest.But they were not at peace. Their eyes were hollow, filled with terror, their aura warped and broken.
Rian:"Forest spirits? Why do they look… like they're in pain?"
Kaïren:"The corruption reached them too. Their suffering means this isn't over."
Suddenly, the spirits moved, their motions sharp and unnatural—like puppets on invisible strings.
Serin:"No… this isn't them. Someone's controlling them!"
The flames shuddered, and from their heart a vast silhouette formed—the shadow of the Old One.
The figure's presence pressed on them like a storm. Its voice was a whisper that split the air.
Shadow of the Old One:"My corruption seeps through the roots. My spirits will crush you. Guardians? Do you think you can defy me?"
Ervan's great wooden body stirred. Roots cracked, branches swayed as he rose, his voice like thunder in the forest.
Ervan:"Old One, your corruption ends here. This land is not yours!"
The shadow's grin was a slash of darkness.
Shadow of the Old One:"Your strength is fading, Ervan. Even your roots rot. This forest will be mine forever."
Dark energy lashed outward, and the spirits surged toward them, eyes burning red.
Rian:"We can't just stand here—those spirits need us!"
Rian and his companions charged. Ivela's spear sliced through the air, but the spirits twisted like smoke. Kaïren unleashed cleansing energy, but the corruption ran too deep.
Then Ervan slammed the earth, and roots exploded upward, tangling with the Old One's shadow.
Ervan:"You will not rule this forest. The earth will reclaim what you've stolen!"
The shadow laughed, a sound like breaking stone. It struck back, its black tendrils slicing into Ervan's bark, leaving deep wounds.
Shadow of the Old One:"You cannot stop me, Ervan. You are already breaking."
Ervan staggered, but his roots kept moving, kept pushing. Serin threw her own strength into him, summoning life-force, her magic seeping into his wounds.
Serin:"Ervan! Hold on—I'll help you!"
Her power healed him, but the effort drained her. The Old One's shape loomed, ready to strike a killing blow—And Rian stepped forward, his sword flashing.
Rian:"No one takes this forest. Not while I still stand!"
His blade clashed with the shadow's tendrils, light against darkness. Energy burst outward, driving the corruption back for a heartbeat.
Ervan:"Forest guardian… we will not yield!"
Together, Rian and Ervan pushed back the Old One's shade. Its shape faltered, thinning like mist.
Shadow of the Old One:"This forest will be mine… my corruption will never end…"
Its voice faded as the shape dissolved.Silence returned, but the damage was done—Ervan was wounded, his roots deep in the soil for support.
Ervan:"The corruption's traces remain. The land is not safe yet. We must keep fighting."
Serin and Rian stood at his side, their resolve firm.
Rian:"Then we will fight. Until the roots of corruption are gone—for good."
****
The Meeting with the Water Tribe
After parting ways with Ervan, Rian and his companions followed a narrow trail deeper into the woods.
The air changed as they walked — cleaner, sharper, as if every breath washed the inside of their lungs. A coolness brushed against their skin, carrying the unmistakable scent of water. Droplets beaded on the leaves, heavy enough to slip and fall, leaving dark spots in the soil. Even the smallest rivulet that trickled down a mossy rock felt alive, like veins carrying a forest's pulse.
Beyond the treeline, the forest opened into a clearing, and there it was — the village of the Water Tribe.
A wide, glasslike river cut straight through its heart, sunlight scattering on its surface into shards of silver and blue. Water floated in the air — not mist, but orbs of liquid suspended weightlessly, gliding and spinning with the faintest gesture from the villagers.
Children laughed as they tossed a ball of water between them, the droplets breaking apart and reforming mid-air. Adults shaped thin ribbons of water between their fingers, weaving them like silk threads.
It wasn't a display of force — there was no rigidity, no violence. Their movements were fluid, almost like a dance, like the water itself was breathing.
Serin froze where she stood.Her breath caught in her throat.
"Incredible…" she whispered.
Her voice trembled — not from fear, but reverence. She was a healer, someone who had studied life itself, and yet she had never seen harmony this complete.
Kairen uncrossed his arms, his usual iron stance softening as he observed the scene."This isn't like the stillness of the monastery," he murmured. "This is something else entirely… it's the breath of water itself."
Ivela, ever the cautious one, scanned the village with a soldier's eye.Her hand tightened around her spear.
"They're hiding it well," she said flatly. "But they're strong."
Soon, the tribe's elder approached.
He was old — his back slightly stooped, his hands lined with age — but his gaze was anything but frail. It was deep, like the surface of a lake that hid untold depths.
Without a word, he led them to a pool at the center of the village.
The water there was so clear that even the smallest pebbles on the bottom gleamed in the sunlight. The elder knelt, dipping his hand into the pool, and the water rippled outward in perfect concentric circles.
"This place," he began, his voice low and steady, "is where the breath of water flows the strongest. Here, we learn from water what it means to live."
He let the water drip from his fingers."Water flows, and life flows with it. It comes. It goes. And, like water, it always returns. That is the truth of all living things — the cycle."
Rian crouched beside him, fingers brushing the pool's surface.
"The cycle of life…" he murmured. "I want to understand it better."
The elder raised his hand, and a single droplet rose into the air, shimmering as if it had stolen the light itself.
"To give life, to share it," he said, "is not to steal from another. It is to let it flow, like water. But—" his eyes flicked toward Serin "—you must understand the weight of it."
Serin stiffened.Her voice was small, almost hesitant.
"I can… transfer life energy. I've always feared it. Every time I use it, it feels like something is being torn out of me — like I'm stealing from myself, or worse, taking from others."
The elder reached out, clasping her hand.
"That fear," he said gently, "comes from responsibility. Your gift is powerful — but if used without thought, it becomes poison. Used with consent, with purpose, it becomes something else entirely. A gift. A sharing."
Serin's eyes softened.The tension in her shoulders eased.
"Then I won't fear it anymore," she said quietly. "I'll use it carefully. Wisely."
Kairen stepped forward, his shadow falling long in the pool's light.
"Elder," he said, his voice heavier than usual. "I've only ever fought one way — with force. Burning fists. Lightning strikes. Everything I do is a straight line. But here…" he looked at the warriors practicing in the distance, "…I see a different way. Power that flows. Can I learn it?"
The elder studied Kairen's clenched fists — scarred, calloused, built for breaking stone. Then, he smiled.
"Water does not strike in straight lines. It bends. It curves. It yields… and by yielding, it wears down mountains. If you can let water into your fists, boy, your strength will not just grow. It will change."
That night, Kairen trained with the tribe's warriors under the moonlight.
His flaming fists were still fierce, his strikes still heavy — but now, between every blow, there was something new.Movements that bent, that softened.Moments where he absorbed an incoming strike instead of blocking it — redirected it instead of meeting it head-on.
Force had learned to flow.
By the river, Serin trained as well.
The elder guided her hands, whispering as a bead of water formed on her fingertip.
"Life," he said, "is like water. Let it flow… and it will return to you."
Serin nodded, watching the droplet slip into her palm.
"I understand now," she said. "My power isn't an intrusion. It's part of the flow."
Ivela watched from the bank, leaning on her spear. For once, her voice carried no edge — only a rare, unguarded warmth.
"We're all changing," she said quietly.
Rian stood beside her, resting his sword across his shoulder. The steel glinted faintly in the moonlight as he spun it once, slowly.
"Yeah," he replied. "But that's good. We're not done yet. And when the time comes…"
He looked past the river, toward the darkness beyond.
"…we'll be ready to use what we've learned."