Another day, another life, another intrusion.

Upon wings of moss, the paragon took to the skies filled with pollution,

He needed to Clinician’s praise to be cured, to ascend.

Every life he gave to battle, but there was no need to pretend.

The delvers never cared for his attacks. Their shell was untouched,

Rarely even looked up from the maps they cared for so much.

He ambushed them with ants and even with his best,

Against shining armor, the delvers thought them just pests.

He needed strength; he needed a new warrior to win.

He dedicated his next life to reaching the tree so planning could begin,

But thorns greeted his arrival as the warrior of pine sought blood,

Ensnared, the branches squeezed until his blood came out in a flood.

Killed by an ally, the lord of the sky would not quit,

He told the warrior of the battle he couldn’t win, which he hated to admit.

The tree refused to acknowledge him, yet began the journey to the killing field.

It would take days before the warriors’ arrival made the delvers to yield.

Unaware of their doom, they killed monsters and bragged of gold,

Fortune in the corpses of the dead that made them quite bold.

They worked on their maps, and complained of the shifting trees,

Unaware of the future that was carried by the breeze.

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The future was built upon the back of those that came before. Every stone laid became the path they walked to become the empire one of greatness, so now, after three days of preparations- three generations of effort- they were ready to pull off something on a scale her ancestors would have never thought possible.

Many ambushes had failed in the lead-up to this moment. Countless of her children died in the battle against the armored giants, but today would be different. Her children had burrowed through the vast hills that sheltered their home to sneak under the delvers as they packed. The trap was ready, as its preparations were finalized.

With the rise of dawn, the newest Empress stretched- a movement that tore not just her soft shell, but the fuzzy wings of her moth heritage. The royal adornments could not survive being born, but she had long since given up the hopes of ever flying. She needed to be here for her children.

They all knew the stakes. It wasn’t for the satisfaction or catharsis of a victory, nor for pride or vengeance; they needed to fight today to claim the corpses the delvers took as trophies. A hundred mana cores from the bodies of her children were their goal today. Everyone was on edge, silent as they shuffled in anticipation. They all knew it was their last chance, as they had half an hour before the arboreal giant arrived.

A song of war echoes from the birds above the mountain- the signal given. In an instant, the earth erupted around the delvers as several hundred brave warriors led the charge. It was an ambush without surprise- hammers and shields were waiting for them. They turned many ants to dust in an instant- but the goal was not to maim, but to distract.

Too distracted by the earth that turned at their feet, the delvers failed to keep their eyes on the sky. Birds fell in pairs, each set twirled in an eternal dance as they smashed themselves against the breastplate of the distracted adventurers.

The tallest one, with the lightest armor and pointed ears, fell first. His knees buckled under the sudden weight of terminal disease and velocity that carried the sparrows. The others reacted and moved to protect their fallen, but the largest of the Empress’ children was their first. An ant half the size of the delver was underneath them in an instant, its massive mandibles holding the elf tight.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

The hammers they welded were too large to attack an ally. Her army had gained ground and momentum as they pinned an enemy. In retaliation, the shortest of the group threw his hammer into a dense part of the swarm, killing a dozen, as he threw himself upon the hive guard that held his friend. Mana flowed through his body as a fist found home on the ant’s head and punched straight through it.

The sudden strength gave the Empress pause. She had heard them the night prior as they shared words she didn’t understand at the time. Desperate for information, she tried to recall what she could for a glimpse of a weapon. They had been talking about the tree approaching them when they made jokes about a ‘Robert…’

“Do you even know how he got one over on me? I underestimated him for one, but how could I not? The dude didn’t even know how to hold his sword, had no armor, and shoes that didn’t fit. I spent a few minutes knocking him over, sure, even punched the ground next to his so hard the guild billed me for it! Then he freakin’ used the same trick on me! The same trick I had spent years perfecting, using mana to strengthen armor and skin to shatter stone. He freakin’ through that at my head. Of course I panicked!”

“You avoided the punch sure, but let’s not leave out the fact that it was a kick to the groin that ended the fight.”

The Empress remembered these words; she knew them, but they held no meaning until now- until she saw it in practice. So deep in concentration, she didn’t notice her body fade away. As she was born anew, she had a plan. A single stone was all she needed to put into place. The others would do the rest.

It took time she didn’t have. Without guidance, the battle had progressed poorly. The birds dwindled and the hive’s numbers had thinned. She had to focus. First on the whispers of the world- on the instincts buried deep inside of the Crown. Instincts buried inside herself. Antennas twitched in concentration as she saw not just the battle, but something deeper. She saw mana as it flowed through the world.

The delver’s sweat burned bright with exhausted power as radiated into the dungeon, but part of it looped back. It was channeled through their armor and bodies for strength. That was the reason none could pierce their shell- it was strengthened with magic.

“My children,” she had to be quick, they were out of time and numbers. “Every day our future starts as the sun rises, and every day we learn, but today we have met an enemy that knows more. Their future may be dim, but their present is bright. They steal our grimoire of blood so they can enhance their bodies. They use magic to surpass us in strength.”

> Understanding Increased: Enchantment - the ability to use the ethereal energies that bind the world to enhance it through inscribed conduits.

“The dead will not be forgotten,” she tried to continue, but the world shook as knowledge spread. There was a faint hope that it was her children, but generational learning was not fast enough. The tremor came from roots, as a mighty tree collapsed the tunnels in its path. It entered the battlefield with no care for what was beneath it.

They should have had several more minutes to reclaim the corpses of the fallen, but they were out of time. The tree had learned. Mana infused its roots to strengthen them as it dragged itself towards the battle.

All the Empress could do was call for a full retreat, as their contributions to the battle were over. The ranks broke just in time for the majority to avoid being crushed as the tree threw itself at a nearby delver. Its trunk flexed and bent like string as it took a swipe at someone a few inches taller than the dwarf.

The halfling’s armor rang out as it spared his life, but the impact sent him flying. Through the dust, his armor was not just dented, but shattered, as it lacked the mana that imbued it with strength. It took the Empress a moment, but she realized it was not just drained of mana, but that it had been siphoned.

The Terror of Trees was a cottonwood, its every fiber a lattice of string and webbing- silk harvested from the grave of her children. Her kingdom was desecrated and turned into a weapon so the tree could eat anything it touched.

The Empress wanted to be mad, but she could only grieve. Countless died, countless more would never be laid to rest. How could a single queen ever be enough to turn the tides of a losing war?

But she wasn’t only a single Empress. She was the infinite, one of a whole. She had turned the tides of the battle long ago when she had been born. Every step- every stone she laid- brought them to this moment. Success was irrelevant, as tomorrow would always be better.

For not the first time today, she had failed to notice as the fight continued without her guidance. Through tears, she watched as the mostly armored delvers surrounded the tree, their attacks leaving craters for orange sap to leak. Both sides weakened, but the tree’s reach kept either side from dealing the decisive blow.

Another life, another stone. The Empress had a plan.

She was no schemer- there was a slime for that- but she had children who would listen. A few brave souls returned to the battlefield as tense minutes passed. They channeled the stone beneath the battlefield, causing it to crumble before they could flee.

The dwarf’s foot sunk into the soft earth as it gave way, pinning him for a crucial second. The tree’s branches were uncaring for the man’s blight as they swung for his head. All he could do was bring his arm up to soften the blow, his shield long since shattered.

The impact shattered. Branches snapped as bones were ground to dust. All the mana that imbued them with strength siphoned away, leaving the body brittle. His body was intact, but a single arm was a deep purple as it disintegrated the veins. Blood pooled from the wound as it soaked into the ground- into the roots of a blood-thirsty tree.

From the background, the Empress could feel it- the instincts of the dungeon. All monsters born into this land had the same gifts from the Crown- the same desire to taste blood. She tried to call out, but the tree wasn’t listening. It had tasted blood- it needed more. It forgot about the others as it dove for the fallen invader, branches angled to kill.

It met the others’ weapons. They scattered woodchips and sawdust into the wind as the mana of the battle stilled- as it soaked into the dungeon from children, allies, and enemies alike.

The Empress saw it all- she heard it all. The way the secret force of the world flowed and pooled, the way the delvers channeled it into themselves. She watched as the title and prestige of the warrior tree bled into a young sapling. In time, it would grow into its own, but today it is a fraction of what it was.

The delvers escaped, mostly intact, and the Empress learned. Her children found metal, they carved runes into their bodies. The next time she would be ready- it was the dungeon's will.

> Understanding Increased: Metal - A shiny and durable mineral capable of being forged into equipment.

> Decrepit Ant Mutation: Prosthetic Limbs - enchanted metal limbs have appeared in a small portion of the still-living members of the colony.