Little Tyrant Doesn't Want to Meet with a Bad End

Chapter 527.2: Faint Sensation (2)

“It has been a while, Lord Roel.”

“It has indeed been a while, Kayde. It looks like you’re faring well. I was worried that you would have trouble adapting to the new environment.”

“Of course not. The environment here is much better than where I was previously rooted. I can’t get enough of the intoxicating fragrance of the soil…” Kayde waved its branches as it lavished compliments on Ascart Fiefdom’s black soil.

Roel smiled at those words.

Behind him, Cynthia and the others hurriedly put down the wine vats before backing off.

Alicia wasn’t with him at the moment, having requested to head elsewhere right before reaching their destination. This meant that Roel was the only one with Kayde at the moment.

After trading some pleasantries, Roel finally got to the main topic at hand.

“Kayde, I didn’t just come here to deliver wine. There are some matters I need to talk to you about.”

“Is it news regarding the Twilight Sages Assembly?”

“It’s the opposite. It’s regarding the Fallens, my encounter with a fallen treant…”

“…”

Kayde’s swaying branches abruptly froze in place. Clearly, it hadn’t expected Roel to broach this topic. As the latter shared about his encounter with the Treant High Priest a few months back, Kayde’s expression turned heavy.

“…Orked Chade. That’s its name.”

“You’re acquainted with it?” Roel asked in surprise.

He didn’t think that the two of them would know each other considering how treants were known to be homebodies who were literally stuck to the ground.

However, Kayde hurriedly waved its lush crown to refute that.

“No, we aren’t acquaintances. It’d be more apt to say that I’ve heard about it. It used to be the pride of our clan, only to become one of our greatest regrets when it fell into depravity alongside the Savior,” the towering treant said with a hoarse sigh.

It proceeded to share old stories about the treants.

In the ancient era, the treants were regarded to be a peace-loving race, but on the inside, they were hardly as harmonious as others thought them out to be. Like most intelligent beings, they had factions that embraced different ideologies.

One of the greatest internal conflicts back then was whether the treants should embrace the ‘man’ over the ‘tree’ in them.

As a race known for its longevity, the treants harnessed tremendous power within them, but their choice to remain in the forest had isolated them from the affairs on the Sia Continent, rendering whatever power they had meaningless. This compelled a group of treants to push their brethren into embracing their human qualities and participating in civilization.

One of the leading figures behind this movement was Orked Chade.

“When I was still younger, I often heard the clan elders talking about it—the Treant High Priest of Nightless City Portas and its divine artifact… There’s no doubt about it, it has to be Orked…” Kayde said in a daze.

“…”

Sensing complex emotions behind Kayde’s remark, Roel didn’t know how he should respond. Much to his surprise, the treant suddenly turned over and tilted forward as if it was bowing.

“Awakener of the ancient bloodline, you have my deepest gratitude for freeing Orked’s soul.”

“It’s only right for me to do so,” Roel replied calmly.

He casually grabbed one of the wine vats and tossed it over.

Despite its earlier sorrowful lamentation, the treant shot out a vine and stably caught the wine vat before pouring its content down a crack in its trunk. Its mood considerably lifted afterward almost as if it had drowned its sorrows with alcohol.

“Ahhh, pine nut wine. A gift from nature… Why don’t you have some too, Lord Roel?”

“I’m good.”

“Hoh… Looks to me that there’s something else you’d like to talk about.”

Kayde based this deduction on how the black-haired man’s expression remained grim even after sharing his encounter with the fallen treant. Roel nodded in affirmation.

“There’s something I’d like to consult you on, though it’s more of a private matter…”

“A private matter?”

“A problem has cropped up with my bloodline ability. I lost contact with an ancient god.”

“…”

Roel told the ancient treant basking under the moonlight about how he hadn’t been able to re-establish his window with the Witch Queen before asking if there had been precedents of it.

He figured that there would be records of the matter if it was commonplace, and ‘Chronicler’ Kayde might just happen to know about it. The treant had lived through numerous eras, after all. Unfortunately, the treant fell silent at his question.

“… It is theoretically possible for a bloodline to lose a portion of its ability, with the most common situation being the sealing of the bloodline. However, this sealing can only be carried out if the other party is far stronger than you.”

Kayde examined Roel from head to toe before shaking his head, refuting this possibility.

Roel was already at the peak of Origin Level 3, a mere step away from reaching Origin Level 2. Even an Origin Level 1 transcendent wouldn’t have been able to seal his Kingmaker Bloodline. The Six Calamities couldn’t have done it too either given how their powers were curbed by the Crown Origin Attribute.

Seeing how even Kayde was unable to find any plausible explanation for his current situation, Roel’s complexion turned grim.

Counting from the day he regained contact with Grandar and Peytra, Artasia had been missing for half a month now, but he still hadn’t managed to find the reason behind her disappearance. This left him anxious and worried, especially with his instincts sensing a whiff of danger.

Artasia might not have the greatest offensive might amongst Roel’s contracted ancient gods, but her wide range of utility spells and diverse fields of knowledge were useful in many situations, particularly since they had saved him from numerous life-and-death situations.

The absence of the Witch Queen spelled a decline in Roel’s fighting prowess, but it was the incomprehensibility of the situation that was unnerving him. He didn’t know whether the same would happen to Grandar and Peytra.

“It looks like I’ll have to resort to something more extreme now…” Roel murmured under his breath as he opted for his final option.

Channeling his Crown Origin Attribute, he forcefully attempted to re-establish his window with the Witch Queen. He tried so many times that he started to lose count, but at some point, he suddenly felt a faint sensation in his heart.

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