Riven didn't have time to scream.
The pain was searing, yes—but pain could wait. He had survived worse. He had lived through battlefields soaked in blood, had stood while others fell, had held the line when everything else broke.
Pain was not new.
This was.
The dark wood had sprouted from his left arm, twisting through muscle, cracking bone with the sound of dry branches underfoot. It pulsed, black and alive, leeching warmth from him with every second. He saw the bark spreading, curling up toward his shoulder.
Riven didn't have time to activate his Creed—and he wasn't even sure it could help here. Not against this. Not against whatever this was. His powers weren't made for nightmares that grew inside bodies.
So he did the next best thing.
He drew his sword with his right hand—still uncorrupted—and brought the blade down.
Steel met flesh.
And then wood.
A sharp hiss, like steam escaping a wound. The corrupted piece of his arm—just below the shoulder—was gone in one brutal motion. It thudded to the ground, writhing for a moment like a severed vine, before stilling.
Riven gritted his teeth, blood pouring freely down his side. No scream. No wasted breath. Just motion.
He turned instantly toward the others.
Mira was curled in on herself, sobbing as bark snaked around her spine. Brin's chest rose and fell in jerking spasms, leaves sprouting from his ribs. Sir Calden's mouth opened in a silent yell as roots burst from his knees.
Rei was twitching violently nearby, black wood creeping across his chest, crawling up his throat like ivy. His eyes were wide, wild, full of panic.
But it wasn't just the corruption anymore.
The world itself was becoming louder.
The trees weren't still—they were creaking, groaning in long, drawn-out howls that scraped against the inside of the skull. The wind didn't blow, it buzzed, filled with a thousand invisible voices whispering nonsense in a language that grated against memory.
Riven's head pounded. The sound felt like pressure building behind his eyes.
And above it all, cutting through like a blade made of chaos—Erasmus screaming.
"Don't touch them! The tree has claimed them!"
"You fools, do not fight it, embrace the roots!"
"It's too late! The fruit was sacred!"
The yelling. The groaning trees. The sounds of flesh splitting and bark growing, Mira sobbing, Brin shrieking, Calden thrashing—all of it, at once.
Riven clenched his jaw. Focus.
"Rei!" he barked, dragging the boy up by the collar. "Now's not the time to break!"
"I—I don't know what to say!" Rei screamed, shaking violently. "It's in me, I—I can't think!"
"You don't have to think! Just vow! Something—anything!"
Rei's mind screamed back at the pressure. The sounds, the pain, the sense that even the trees were watching—it all folded together. He didn't deliberate.
He roared it out like a blade hurled into the void:
"I vow to burn all of this corruption!"
The air went white.
A burst of golden light erupted from Rei's body, so bright it seared the edges of vision. Flames poured from his skin—not orange, not red, but radiant gold, divine in their fury.
But the light had awakened more than just resistance.
Black petals began to fall from the canopy above—slow at first, like ash after a fire. Then faster. Hundreds. Thousands. Weightless, papery things spiraling down in unnatural silence.
Wherever they landed, the ground twitched.
Roots burst upward through the soil, responding to the petals like sparks to tinder. They snaked forward like seeking limbs, reaching for exposed flesh. One landed near Brin's foot—roots sprang up and immediately wrapped around his ankle.
Mira shrieked as another petal touched her back and bark erupted beneath the fabric of her cloak.
The world had started to bloom, and its garden was made of pain.
The black wood across his chest hissed and cracked, burning away in an instant. The fire didn't harm Rei—it blessed him. It crowned him.
And for a heartbeat, the cacophony stilled.
Riven didn't question it.
"You're up. Help me cut it out of them," he ordered, voice low and sharp, pointing his blood-slick sword toward the others.
Rei didn't hesitate.
He gripped his blade, golden flames still spiraling around his arms, and with a shout, slammed the fire into the metal. The sword caught, bursting into a holy blaze that roared with divine intent.
Then he ran.
He cut through the bark curling around Mira's spine. She screamed—but it was pain that meant survival.
Brin's ribs—cleaved free. Calden's rooted knees—cut clean.
The fire didn't just burn—it freed.
The golden flames around Rei burned higher, licking the air like a warding circle.
Where his fire touched the ground, the petals burned before they could root.
Where his blade swung, the black flora recoiled.
It wasn't just cleansing bodies anymore—it was holding back the forest itself.
Riven saw it, understood it, and immediately adjusted.
"Keep moving!" he yelled. "Anywhere the fire's touched is safe—use it!"
And above it all—Erasmus, running like a madman in a divine pageant.
"The flowers fall to redeem us!"
"Don't breathe the petals!"
"The roots are birthright!"
Black petals swirled around his body like a funeral storm. Some stuck to his clothes. Some tried to root—but even they recoiled subtly, confused by him. As if they didn't know what he was.
All around the group, roots shivered, twitching back from where the divine fire burned in arcs.
But beyond that circle—the petals kept falling.
He shrieked, arms flailing, spinning past Riven, stumbling near Rei, nearly knocking Mira back into the flames.
"Get out of the way, kid!" Riven snapped, voice fraying under pressure.
Rei glared. "He's not helping! What is he doing?!"
But Erasmus only screamed louder, weaving through the battlefield of vines and blood and fire like a prophet set ablaze.
At least… that's what it looked like.
Inside, Erasmus was still.
Focused.
Cold.
He tracked the bark's response time. He measured how it recoiled at heat. He logged the impact of divine fire on corrupted organic matter. He noted that Mira's bark burned slower than Calden's, and that Brin's corruption had thicker nodes.
He watched Rei's body glow—and wondered how long the flames would last before needing a new vow.
They think I'm panicking, Erasmus thought. Perfect.
—
Riven panted as he dragged Mira back toward the stone circle. Her back smoked where bark had burned away, her eyes glassy with pain, but she was alive.
Rei knelt beside Brin, golden light flickering off his sword. "Almost done—hold on—"
The air was sharp with sap and smoke and blood.
The trees still groaned—but they were retreating now, curling back, their twisted limbs dragging through the red grass.
Then—silence.
As if someone had turned down the volume on the world.
The bark was gone.
The trees were still.
Only the black fruit still pulsed, hanging above, waiting.
Erasmus collapsed to his knees, clutching his chest as if weeping.
"We've been spared!" he sobbed.
Rei glared. "Shut up, boy"
Riven didn't speak.
He just stared at him.
And Erasmus…
…just screamed again.
—
As the silence returned, and the bark faded, the petals finally stopped. They piled around the stone clearing like the ashes of something unfinished—waiting to take root again.