Sam nodded, sensing an end to his line of inquiry. Instead of pasting the other man, he simply continued to teleport in silence. The lands beneath grew more verdant the further he went from the corruption, and soon forests of towering oaks and redwoods appeared around the titanic forms of the Sentinels, some almost a third of the height of their arboreal guardians. It seemed that the Voidrot was too powerful for such secondary parts of the ecosystems to survive, leaving only the Sentinels to watch over the dismal land that its rot brought.

More settlements were soon visible, cities built among the boughs of the largest trees. Many of them were larger and grander than the one Sam had arrived at first, sprawling out beyond the environs of the Sentinels. This was the heartland of the Forest Folk, a region where the scourge of the Voidrot was far away enough to live in relative peace.

Sam also noticed that the average levels of the Forest Folk living there were growing steadily higher. Unlike in the normal Tower floors, there was no set level range. However, he suspected that there were provisions made to prevent an unfair death.

Eventually, the shadow of something truly gargantuan crossed the horizon, and he found himself staring at a tree taller than a mountain. It was a dozen miles in width, and easily twice that in height, spreading its shade across an area that would have made most cities blush. What looked like skyscrapers made out of molded wood dotted its branches, and at the very top, a palace stood. However, it seemed long derelict. Its walls were covered in lichen, and the wood sagged slightly. Sam assumed that was where Anavri had once made her home.

Three figures appeared in the distance, flying up from the nearest branch of the tree. All of them radiated power to Sam, less than his own, but still significant. They teleported in unison, crossing the divide in a matter of moments.

“Who are you?” The foremost asked, a sword made out of crystalline vines clutched in his hand.

“I am Dranus, of the Sanokri Enclave, and this is Sam Atlas, an outsider who has come to aid us.”

“An outsider?” The other man asked. “It has been so long since one of their kind came here. Are you sure?” The other guards noticeably tightened their grips on their weapons.

“I am. He has already slain four of the Voidrot Guardians by himself, and in less than a day.”

“He doesn’t look like much.” Indeed, the guards were far taller than Sam, easily eight feet in height. The only reason they saw him as weaker though was because he had his aura leashed for politeness’ sake. However, that did not seem necessary at this point.

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A wave of potency coursed forth, with his body at the epicenter. It enveloped the guards’ auras and crushed them down, revealing Sam’s true strength. “I might not look like much, but I would heed the words of your compatriot here. My size has nothing to do with how much power I possess.”

“I apologize,” the lead guard said, bowing his head slightly. “Among my people, the more powerful we get, the larger we grow. I take it that you outsiders are different.”

Sam blinked. That made a good deal of sense. Trees grew with age, and it was natural that people who were essentially trees would do the same as they gained power. “Sorry if I offended you. I know little about the ways of the Forest Folk.”

“Perhaps you should start by calling us by our real name, not what the World Tree calls us. We are the-” the man proceeded to make a noise that was utterly incomprehensible. It sounded like a tree groaning in the wind, and the creaking of roots as a hurricane uprooted an entire forest.

“I don’t think I can make that noise,” Sam replied.

“Oh. Well, just don’t use the term you did. Many of our kind dislike the World Tree for what it did to Anavri, and anything associated with it. They refuse to level, instead cultivating their connection to the natural world. That group is a rarity though, but their ideas permeate our society.”

Sam nodded, and the others turned, heading back towards the city. He and Dranus traveled behind them. As they neared the city, a profound aura of growth and natural splendor gradually grew in strength, centered on the tree. To Sam’s surprise, it had the aura of a sapient itself, and one at the higher levels of E Rank.

Other Forest Folk flew around the tree, or teleported in some cases. The buildings came into sharper focus, and Sam noted that they looked like trees themselves. It was like a Russian Doll of arboreal denizens, continuing to grow smaller and smaller the further he went. Millions of Forest Folk lived in the city, and he could see them walking along immense branches that could have supported entire towns on a fraction of their surface.

“This is the Locus Tree,” Dranus explained as they aligned on one of the branches. “The capital of Vallenar, and the greatest point of resistance against the Voidrot.”

Before Sam could respond, he felt the aura of the tree focus down on him, as if curious. Then it spoke into his mind.

“An outsider. For the first time in what feels like an age, even to me. Why are you here?”

The mental voice was both resonant and ethereal, as if the noise of the wind blowing through the branches of a tree was magnified a thousand fold.

“I am Sam Atlas,” Sam thought back. “I came here to aid the people of Vallenar against the Voidrot.”

“Hmm. If you are planning anything untoward, I am always watching. I will not allow the legacy of my mistress to be sullied by your touch.”

“Don’t worry. I only aim to help.”

The voice fell silent, but there was no reaction around him. It seemed like he was the only one to have heard it.

“What’s the deal with the Locus Tree? It just spoke to me.”

“The Tree sometimes communes with the stronger members of our collective,” one of the guards said. “To be spoken to by it is a great honor.”

“Ah.”