God's Tree

Chapter 65 The Laws That Should Not Be Controlled

The cavern's heat pressed against them, a constant, suffocating force that made every breath feel heavier than it should.

Kaelred stood motionless, his eyes locked onto the pages of the ancient tome, his fingers gripping the fragile parchment with a tension that betrayed his unease.

He had found the runes.

But what he was reading was far beyond anything they could hope to handle.

"...This isn't just some protective enchantment," Kaelred muttered, his voice shaky, his breath coming slower as he processed the enormity of what he was seeing.

Argolaith glanced up from where he was testing the shifting runes on the ground. "What do you mean?"

Kaelred's eyes never left the tome. His voice was quiet, but it carried a weight that made Argolaith pause.

"These runes... they're controlling the laws of heaven and earth."

Argolaith stiffened, his brows furrowing. "What?"

Kaelred flipped another page, his gaze hardening. "The formation was designed to do something unnatural."

He took a deep breath, then continued.

"It was created to make everything within it—this entire city—never age."

Argolaith's heart skipped a beat. He turned back to the shifting, flickering runes, his mind racing.

Eternal preservation? The power to defy time itself?

That level of rune magic was beyond anything he had ever heard of.

But Kaelred's voice grew even heavier as he spoke the next words.

"But it... went wrong."

Argolaith looked at him sharply. "How wrong?"

Kaelred exhaled, rubbing his forehead. "The formation wasn't meant for humans. It was created by beings who weren't like us. Who could shift their forms at will."

Argolaith's grip on his sword tightened. "The creatures."

Kaelred nodded. "They weren't human to begin with. But when the formation activated... it changed them."

He tapped a passage in the tome. "It says they lost their ability to communicate with anything—or anyone—outside the formation."

Argolaith's mind reeled. "That's why they ignore us."

Kaelred swallowed hard. "Not because they don't see us. But because they can't."

A silence stretched between them, the weight of their discovery settling like an immovable force upon their shoulders.

Argolaith exhaled, pushing his thoughts aside as he turned his focus back to the runes beneath his feet.

Now that he was paying closer attention, he noticed something else.

The heat in the cavern—the insufferable, unrelenting warmth—was strongest near the formation itself.

At first, he had assumed it was just the natural heat of being underground.

But now, standing here, feeling the air ripple unnaturally around him, he realized—

The formation was generating it.

"...This thing is the reason it's so hot in here," Argolaith muttered, staring at the shifting symbols.

Kaelred looked up from his tome. "What?"

Argolaith touched one of the partially broken runes—and immediately, a wave of heat pulsed outward, making the air shimmer.

He pulled his hand back quickly. "Yeah. It's definitely causing this."

Kaelred frowned. "But why? I thought it was supposed to stop time, not make this place feel like a furnace."

Argolaith's expression darkened. "Because it's broken."

Kaelred's stomach dropped. "...You're saying this heat is a side effect?"

Argolaith nodded grimly. "I think so. If the formation was meant to make everything here never age, then it's possible it also tried to preserve the air, the environment... everything."

He glanced back at the shifting runes.

"But because it failed, it's stuck in some kind of unstable loop. The heat is a byproduct of the broken magic trying to keep something frozen in time when it no longer can."

Kaelred ran a hand down his face. "So if we were to fix it—"

Argolaith shook his head immediately. "No. We can't."

Kaelred stiffened. "What do you mean?"

Argolaith gestured at the runes. "Kaelred, these runes are controlling the very laws of existence. You saw what happened to the creatures. If we mess with them—"

Kaelred exhaled sharply. "We don't know what it'll do."

Argolaith nodded. "Exactly."

A cold realization settled over them, They had found their answer.

The city wasn't just some lost ruin. It was a graveyard of a failed godlike experiment.

And the beings trapped within it...

They could never leave.

Then—it began to write.

Its handwriting was rough, uneven, but legible.

Argolaith and Kaelred watched intently as the first words formed:

"The skeleton in the inn..."

Kaelred stiffened. "What about it?"

The Grendyle wrote faster.

"He was the one who created the formation."

Argolaith's expression darkened. "The elf?"

The Grendyle nodded, writing more.

"He did not understand our magic. He tried to preserve us, but he failed."

Kaelred exhaled. "Of course he did."

The Grendyle's hand shook slightly, its writing slowing down, but it continued.

"The runes—he placed them wrong. That is why everything went wrong."

Argolaith's grip on his notebook tightened.

They had assumed the formation had been intentional—a grand, failed experiment by the Grendyles themselves.

But no. It had been a mistake.

A single man, an outsider, had been the one to seal their fates.

Kaelred let out a low whistle. "So let me get this straight. Some random elf, probably thinking he was some great rune master, tried to make a time-stopping formation—and completely botched it?"

The Grendyle nodded slowly, its wide eyes full of something old and exhausted.

Kaelred ran a hand through his hair. "I swear, the more we learn about these ruins, the dumber everything sounds."

Argolaith, however, wasn't laughing.

He looked at the Grendyle, his voice quiet. "That means... there's no fixing this, is there?"

The Grendyle's hand trembled as it wrote the next word.

"No."

A heavy silence followed.

Kaelred sighed, rubbing his forehead. "Alright, well... does this place at least have a name?"

The Grendyle paused, its bulging eyes studying Kaelred.

Then, it wrote.

"Gren."

Argolaith tilted his head. "Gren?"

The Grendyle nodded, then wrote again.

"Named after the first chef."

Argolaith and Kaelred exchanged glances.

Kaelred squinted. "Wait. Did I read that right? First... chef?"

The Grendyle nodded again.

Kaelred stared at the notebook, then at Argolaith.

"...So you're telling me this entire lost civilization was named after their first cook?"

Argolaith couldn't help but smirk. "Hey, food's important."

Kaelred groaned. "Unbelievable."

The Grendyle, however, seemed pleased to have shared that knowledge.

And for the first time—

It smiled.

Above them, in the high, dark arches of the cavern, Malakar stood in silence.

He had expected Argolaith and Kaelred to discover the formation's nature.

He had expected them to realize it was beyond repair.

But this?

A city preserved by mistake, named after a chef?

Malakar's grin twitched.

"...I did not expect that."

He let out a low chuckle, his voice barely above a whisper.

"History truly is... ridiculous."

Then, as silently as a wraith, he vanished once more.