God's Tree-Chapter 110: The Fastest Route

The second day, they pushed harder.

They woke at first light, moving with purpose.

By midday, their pace had quickened. The landscape shifted around them—dense trees turning to open fields, winding trails leading into uneven, rocky terrain.

The silence had been replaced by the distant sounds of the world—chirping birds, rustling leaves, the occasional growl from unseen predators.

The urgency in Argolaith's chest grew stronger.

The more they moved, the lighter he felt. The further they traveled, the more it felt like his body was adjusting to the tree's distant pull.

He was getting closer.

Not by much.

But enough to notice.

On the third day, as they crested a hill, they spotted movement.

A trail curved through the valley below, where a small caravan of merchant wagons made their way across the landscape.

Six wagons, drawn by sturdy horses, their wheels creaking as they carried goods across the land.

Kaelred let out a low whistle. "Didn't expect to see civilization out here."

Argolaith's eyes narrowed. "It's an opportunity."

Kaelred raised a brow. "For what?"

"For information."

Without another word, Argolaith started toward the wagons.

As they approached, the merchants took notice.

Several riders at the front tensed, their hands drifting toward weapons. Travelers were rarely harmless.

Argolaith lifted his hands slightly—not a threat, but not defenseless.

One of the merchants, a broad-shouldered man with weathered skin and a thick brown cloak, rode forward. His sharp eyes studied them before speaking.

"You don't look like bandits."

Kaelred scoffed. "You don't look like a scholar, but here we are."

The merchant gave him a dry look.

Argolaith cut in. "We're travelers. We need to know if there are any towns or cities in the direction we're heading."

The merchant scratched his chin. "Which way are you heading?"

Argolaith gestured toward the vast horizon. "That way."

The merchant followed his gaze, frowning. "Not much that way. Closest city in that direction is Volcrest."

Malakar spoke for the first time. "How far?"

The merchant sighed. "On foot? A month at least."

Kaelred let out a low groan. "A month?"

The merchant nodded. "This isn't a friendly road. There are small villages along the way, but Volcrest is the only true city in that direction. If you're looking for supplies, you'll find them there."

Argolaith's mind turned. A month.

That was longer than he expected.

And yet, it was still only the first step of the journey.

He exhaled. "Thank you."

The merchant studied them for a moment longer, then nodded. "Watch yourselves out here. Roads aren't as safe as they used to be."

With that, he turned his horse, signaling his men to move forward.

The wagons continued down the road, leaving the three of them behind.

Kaelred crossed his arms. "A whole month just to reach a city? This is insanity."

Malakar shrugged. "It will take as long as it takes."

Kaelred groaned. "How do you not care?"

Malakar smirked. "Because complaining will not make the journey shorter."

Kaelred sighed heavily. "Why am I even surprised at this point?"

Argolaith wasn't listening. His mind was already moving ahead.

The Forsaken Forest was still impossibly far. And now they had to make it through wild lands, villages, and an entire city before they could even think about getting there.

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But he didn't hesitate.

The tree was waiting.

And he was going to find it.

By the time the wagons disappeared into the distance, Argolaith was already leading them forward.

Their pace had quickened.

Their movements were sharper.

The days ahead would be long—but he didn't care.

Every mile brought him closer.

And no matter how far it was—

The merchants had long since disappeared down the road, their wagons fading into the distance.

The open land stretched endlessly before them, the road ahead winding through rolling hills and scattered clusters of trees. The city of Volcrest was still nearly a month away—if they traveled at a normal pace.

But Malakar had other ideas.

Standing at the edge of the road, his violet eyes narrowed slightly. He studied the terrain, the sky, the wind, as if calculating something unseen.

Then, after a long silence, he turned toward Argolaith and Kaelred.

"It will take us three days at most if we run non-stop."

Kaelred's entire body tensed. "Hold on—what?"

Argolaith didn't hesitate. "Sounds like a good idea."

Kaelred let out a choked noise. "Excuse me?"

Kaelred ran a hand through his hair, pacing. "Okay, let's break this down. You—" He pointed at Malakar. "—just said we could run non-stop for three days. To a city that's a month away. And you—" He jabbed a finger at Argolaith. "—think that's a good idea?"

Argolaith rolled his shoulders. "If it gets us there faster, then yes."

Kaelred threw up his hands. "That's not how traveling works!"

Malakar sighed, adjusting his cloak. "You underestimate what your body is capable of."

Kaelred shot him a deadpan look. "I underestimate my body? You're the one acting like we're immortal war gods who don't need rest or food or—oh, I don't know—functioning legs!"

Argolaith smirked. "No one's forcing you to come."

Kaelred's eye twitched. "Oh, great! I'll just stay behind in the dangerous, monster-infested wilderness and die alone. Fantastic plan."

Argolaith clapped him on the shoulder. "Then stop complaining and start running."

Kaelred groaned so loudly it could have been mistaken for a dying animal.

They didn't start at a full sprint. That would have been suicide.

Instead, they eased into it—gradually increasing their speed as they adjusted to the rhythm. Their footfalls were steady, controlled, eating away at the miles beneath them.

Malakar led at first, his movement effortless. He barely seemed to touch the ground, his form smooth and refined like he had done this a thousand times before.

Argolaith followed close behind, keeping his breathing controlled. It wasn't difficult—yet. His body was conditioned for endurance, and his instincts had long since adapted to moving at high speeds for extended periods.

Kaelred…

Kaelred was dying.

"—who even—does this—this isn't—natural—"

"Breathe through your nose, Kaelred," Malakar said evenly.

Kaelred gasped dramatically. "Oh, thank you, great master, for this incredible wisdom! I was just about to die, but now—oh wait, I'm still dying!"

Argolaith grinned. "You'll get used to it."

Kaelred wheezed. "Will I? Will I really?"

The first few hours were manageable.

Then the real challenge began.

The terrain wasn't kind.

The rolling hills turned into uneven fields, where patches of wild grass and twisted roots threatened to trip them if they lost focus. The temperature shifted wildly—hot in the open sun, cold in the shaded valleys.

They ran through streams, across rocky ridges, and past abandoned hunting camps. Every step pushed them further, every mile stripped away the weakness in their bodies.

Kaelred gradually stopped complaining.

Mostly because he was too busy surviving.

At sundown, Kaelred finally snapped.

He came to a skidding halt, planting his hands on his knees, gasping for air. "Stop. Stop. I am going to die. Right now. My body is shutting down. Goodbye."

Argolaith and Malakar stopped a few steps ahead, turning back.

Kaelred dramatically collapsed onto his back, arms spread wide. "Just leave me here. Tell my story. Remember me as a man who suffered under the tyranny of two lunatics."

Argolaith raised a brow. "You're still breathing."

Kaelred let out a weak wheeze.

Malakar crouched beside him. "We are making good time. If you can continue at this pace, we will reach the city within two days."

Kaelred lifted a single hand. "Two? You—you just said three days."

Malakar smirked. "You are moving faster than I expected."

Kaelred dropped his hand. "This is how I die."

Argolaith crossed his arms. "You can rest when we reach Volcrest."

Kaelred muttered something under his breath. It sounded suspiciously like a curse.

Malakar stood, brushing off his cloak. "If we do not wish to stop, we must maintain proper energy levels." He retrieved a small vial from his storage ring, tossing it toward Kaelred.

Kaelred barely caught it, blinking. "What is this?"

"A stamina elixir. Drink it."

Kaelred narrowed his eyes. "Is this going to kill me?"

Argolaith smirked. "Only if you drink too much."

Kaelred groaned but took a small sip. The instant the liquid hit his tongue, a surge of warmth spread through his limbs. The bone-deep exhaustion lightened—not gone, but bearable.

Kaelred sat up. "Okay. That's… actually helpful."

Argolaith rolled his shoulders. "Good. Now get up."

Kaelred muttered more curses but did get up.

And then—

They started running again.

By the time the first night of their run settled in, they had covered more ground in one day than they would have in a week.

Kaelred was exhausted, Malakar was unreadable, and Argolaith?

Argolaith felt alive.

The second tree was still far beyond Volcrest, but this?

This was progress.

And he wasn't stopping now.