Arloum steadied his roots on the ground.

‘There’s not much energy to suck here,’ he lamented as he focused on upgrading his dark energy.

Not only that, the embryo was also eating up most of his dark energy. Although he could choose not to upgrade it, he didn’t.

‘If this thing is a fairy, it’ll be of tremendous help.’

[Embryo T1 (6%) - 1/1]

[Dark Energy T2 - 2/12]

‘As I expand my capacity, the dark energy becomes more unstable. Could it be that my capacity is limited by the tier of my energy?’ He slapped the ground with his branches, unable to curse.

‘If that’s the case, then I’ll have to be creative with my energy usage.’

Helpless, he opened his eyes, looking around. The dark elves planted him in a fertile area somewhere in the forest.

‘Earlier, Fick told me that they’ve spotted an elf guard sleeping on a tree branch. After some scouting, they found that the half elf settlement was nearby.’

Fick was Enis’ successor, becoming the new patriarch. The two weren’t related, but because he chose to ride on the guy’s back the entire time, the remaining dark elves decided that he was the “Chosen One.”

‘Hmph. If he’s useful, maybe I’ll let him inherit the name of Onyx… tsk, Enis.’

He was still mad at Enis’ untimely demise, feeling as if the name Onyx was now a little unsightly.

‘Speaking of dark elves.’

He looked around, watching the dark elves curled on the ground, clutching their stomachs as they huddled together.

‘Another dozen died due to hunger. More are set to follow,’ he sighed.

‘I can probably create a fruit, but now's not the time.’

Even if he did, he wasn't a fruit factory. How could he possibly satiate the dark elves with one or two fruits?

He shook his branches, about to keep sucking whatever energy it was coming from the soil.

“Lord,” a raspy voice sounded from the front.

It was Fick. His black cloak was tattered, and he was carrying a small sack with him. Tied to his belt was a dagger, a blade that had saved him more than once throughout their journey.

Arloum waved his branches, motioning Fick to come closer. He did.

Hearing his arrival, the other dark elves roused from their “sleep,” staring at Fick with hunger filled eyes.

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They couldn't even drool anymore, their bodies dehydrated.

Water wasn't too scarce in the forest, but drinking caused their empty stomachs to churn painfully. Most would rather drink less, and only few could endure the pain.

Fick was one of them.

“I… I found these,” he whispered to Arloum, opening the sack. Seeing Fick not opening the sack, Arloum realized that he didn't want the other dark elves to see it.

‘What’s inside?’ Arloum moved his roots, taking a few out to inspect the sack.

There, his roots felt a few round objects, though most of them were squished as his roots pressed on them. Not only that, he felt insects crawling up his roots.

‘Are these… rotten fruits?’ He guessed, tempted to use his roots as his “eyes.”

Though, the idea of seeing what was most likely maggots so close made him think twice.

‘These are useless to me’ He looked at Fick, confused as to why he brought them back.

Fick coughed. “I found… a box of them… those were the few good ones I found,” he said.

‘A box of rotten fruit? What's he getting at?’ Arloum frowned in his mind.

Then, Fick leaned closer. “Lord… cough—forgive me, but, can you… make a miracle?”

He asked, and Arloum could almost hear a sob from the latter's dry throat. Watching closely, he saw Fick’s tightly clenched fists.

‘...is he at his limit? He wants me to turn rotten fruits into edible ones? If I could, I would've absorbed the trees around us long ago!’

He shook his branches.

‘It’s not possible.’

Fick fell to his knees.

Then, he felt Arloum's leaves touch his forehead.

‘It’s impossible, but… are you willing to sacrifice yourself?’

----------------------------------------

Fick sighed in his heart, his steps heavy as he walked through the forest. The air was hot, searing his pale skin and making him wish he could bathe in ice.

‘Am I making the right choice?’ He asked himself, his hand raising to touch the small sack tied to his waist.

A few minutes ago, he found an elf and a half elf hiding in a bush. The two were engaged in passion, their bodies intertwined, and while they were distracted, he found the sack of fruits lying nearby.

Carefully, he snatched it, before retreating in a panic. However, when he glanced back, his eyes met with the half elf’s.

‘Is it right to do this?’

Back then, he kept running back, but the emotions in the half elf’s eyes were still vivid in his memories.

Reluctance, disgust, hopelessness, and sorrow. Not aimed at him, but to the elf defiling her body.

‘I… I’m sorry,’ he took a deep breath.

Their goal was to invade the half elves and have Arloum devour all the half elves living there. Before, he wanted to rush as much as he could, but seeing the female half elf made him hesitate.

‘Is it bad for us to live? We just want to survive,’ he gritted his teeth.

He was no warrior. He was only a civilian in the dark elf community. All of the remaining dark elves were. The only reason he became the patriarch was because of luck.

‘Maybe… it’s better to just…’

He paused. His eyes staring blankly at the ground, and then at the sack of fruits tied to his waist.

Spit flooded his mouth, his breathing becoming ragged.

Hesitating, he opened the small sack, taking out the fruits inside. Upon seeing the apples and mangoes that were half-rotten, his eyes became wet with tears.

‘It’s food.’

He couldn’t help but gulp. Taking deep breaths, he pushed the fruits back inside the sack. Then, his legs moved without much energy, and he walked dazedly until he was in front of Arloum.

‘We can eat… right?’

His mind went back to the female half elf, a claw gripping his heart.

‘I…’ He looked at Arloum, his eyes stuck on the latter’s glowing red leaves.

He coughed, pointing at the sack of rotting fruits next to Arloum. “I found… a box of them… those were the few good ones I found.”

Seeing Arloum’s branches waving slowly, he bit his tongue, before speaking.

“Lord… cough—forgive me, but, can you… make a miracle?” He said, his voice trembling.

‘What am I saying?’ He clenched his fists.

‘Those half elves are our way to survive. By killing them… we can live…’

And yet, he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He didn’t even dare to think about it.

‘I’m a coward.’

Arloum’s branches shook, and for some reason, he understood what the latter meant.

‘Heh,’ he chuckled, though no sound came out of his throat. ‘I’m a coward, and greedy. A miracle? When did that ever happen?’

He lowered his head, falling to his knees as he stifled his cries.

‘Maybe I’m not suited for this… if only lord Enis was here… we could just follow him…’

Suddenly, he felt a cold leaf touch his forehead. He couldn’t help but close his eyes, feeling as though a hand was touching the top of his head.

Like a soothing whisper, ‘It’s not possible, but… are you willing to sacrifice yourself?’ A voice bloomed in his mind, both tempting and promising a bad omen.

‘Sacrifice myself?’ Fick asked Arloum, but also himself.

Could he do it? For his people, dark elves that he knew his entire life? Or for those half elves he only met once?

He couldn’t answer it.

‘Become my sword. Surrender your will to me. Close your eyes and simply follow my voice,’ Arloum’s words silenced his thoughts.

‘...can I…’

He didn’t finish that sentence. Can he kill others? Can he trample on others for his race? No.

He’d first be killed before he could even raise his voice, much less his dagger.

But what if others did it for him? What if his god used his body for him?

‘I am a coward, my lord,’ he said, pressing his head on the ground in front of Arloum.

‘I am a hypocrite. I am useless. So, if this body is of use to you, and my race, then please… please!’

He opened his eyes, raising his head to gaze into Arloum’s glowing red leaves.

“Use me.”

Arloum’s leaves shone brightly, his laughter filling up both his and Fick’s mind.

‘Wise choice.’