Oliver advanced toward the pale tree laden with blossom flowers.

Honestly, he was captivated by its beauty almost instantly, but he had no intention of risking contact with any part of it. There was a possibility that this thing was somehow related to the distinct creature residing atop the mountain, or perhaps something lethally poisonous.

The likelihood of it being connected to the Distinct creature was considerably low since the creature never descended from the summit, of course, but Oliver preferred assuming that possibility regardless. Poison alone was not something capable of driving Puppets away from such a vast hunting ground. And no, it was not because the mountain was nearby either. Puppets still lingered around the lower slopes, even if they were considerably rarer to encounter there.

Not to mention, he had just killed a Rank 2 Puppet.

Even if the creature had already been weakened and was practically on the verge of death after overstepping its boundaries and venturing toward the summit only to get its ass handed back to it, Oliver still understood one undeniable fact. He would never have been able to kill a Drifter that easily under normal circumstances.

Apart from that, his foreknowledge had also played a crucial role in the creature’s death, and now he had grown stronger because of that accomplishment, a feat even the system itself had acknowledged.

As he approached the tree, Oliver deliberately avoided the blossoms. He briefly scanned the surroundings to survey the terrain while Rook sat nearby, staring at the tree before turning back toward its master with an utterly dumbfounded expression.

Oliver could practically feel the beast’s vacant stare drilling into the back of his head, and casually remarked while stepping beneath the tree,

"Pfft. Relax, I’m not stupid enough to touch anything beautiful in the Outer Ring. That’s basically asking to die, right? I’m just ridiculously curious about it..."

Something this beautiful was genuinely rare within the Outer Ring of the Garden. Despite it being deep into the night, the pink blossoms seemed to bloom against the darkness itself, radiating a faint luminous glow even without light touching them. The moment he stepped beneath the tree, warmth enveloped him like the embrace of spring.

It was as though the tree possessed a season entirely its own.

Within the Garden of Death, beauty rarely existed without accompanying death, yet this was by far the strangest sight Oliver had witnessed so far. A dead tree bearing living blossoms was something utterly unheard of, and more than danger, it awakened an overwhelming desire for exploration within him.

Like a black swan, beauty born from ruin.

The Outer Ring was never meant to contain things like this.

Although the Garden of Death had always been described as a place where the Inner Ring was more beautiful than even the flourishing human world, like the dreamscape of an unborn fantasy, the Inner Ring was also the original heart of the Garden before its corruption spread across the world, transforming regions such as the Middle Ring and Outer Ring into dead lands.

But despite all that decay, the Inner Ring had preserved its ancient splendor and never rotted away.

However, within the Garden of Death, beauty itself was an omen of death.

...And the Inner Ring was the deadliest place of them all.

So, according to the rules, wherever beauty existed, death was bound to be heavier and infinitely more alluring to the eyes of beings who had rarely witnessed such things.

The realization struck him like a hollow revelation.

Death.

He remembered that word so vividly that his mind violently snapped free from the seductive trap of beauty it had fallen into.

’No! Back!’

Oliver hurled himself backward at that exact moment and thrust his sword toward the tree with a grim expression carved across his face.

’Shit. I almost died. This thing really dragged me in with its threads...!’

Come to think of it, this was the only tree so far with blossoms growing upon it...

He managed to realize his mind had been entrapped precisely because he was human. He possessed an instinctive appreciation for beauty, making it far easier for him to drown within that intoxicating ecstasy unlike Rook, who barely reacted to beauty at all. The beast understood nothing about such concepts, and in this situation, ignorance itself became armor protecting its mind.

As for Oliver, his consciousness had already been intercepted earlier while fighting the Drifter that attempted to feed upon his mind. A vulnerable crack still remained within his mental defenses, one that had yet to fully heal, and that opening became the perfect passage for the beauty to seep into his thoughts and lure him closer.

If he had not ranked up to Rookie and naturally attained greater mental clarity because of it, Oliver would never have realized the danger until he was already standing at death’s doorstep.

Just as he steadied his breathing while keeping the Imperial Sword aimed toward the blossoming tree, Rook suddenly jerked upright beside him, every strand of fur across its body standing sharply on end.

A deep growl reverberated from the beast’s throat afterward while its eyes locked directly onto the pale trunk ahead.

Oliver’s chest tightened almost instantly as unease spread through him.

...Then a sound echoed beneath the tree.

The noise was hollow and faint, almost like somebody lightly knocking beneath wood from underground, yet within the suffocating silence engulfing the valley, it sounded unnaturally loud against Oliver’s heightened senses.

Another impact followed moments later.

This one was louder.

The ground beneath the blossoming tree trembled afterward while several blossoms drifted from the branches and slowly descended toward the earth.

Oliver’s expression darkened immediately before he cautiously stepped backward toward Rook without lowering his blade even slightly.

’Something is underneath it.’

The remaining blossoms swayed gently overhead, and moments later, more impacts abruptly echoed beneath the ground one after another. The noises no longer sounded isolated, but numerous and frantic, as though countless things beneath the earth were repeatedly slamming upward against the roots from below.

Oliver immediately climbed onto Rook’s back.

"Run, Rook!" he barked while tightening his grip around the Imperial Sword.

The beast reacted instantly and twisted around to sprint away from the tree entirely, but before either of them could properly escape, the ground beneath the blossoms exploded violently upward.

A massive crimson spine burst through the soil.

Wet dirt scattered across the valley floor while the enormous bone-like structure rose crookedly toward the sky, glistening within the darkness like blood forged into sharpened crystal. Moments later, another spine erupted nearby before several more violently tore through the earth one after another.

The entire area surrounding the pale tree convulsed afterward.

Dead grass shredded apart beneath the force while pale roots snapped loudly under the pressure of countless crimson spines forcing themselves upward from beneath the ground. Oliver felt Rook stagger beneath him as the valley trembled violently enough to dislodge stones across the surrounding terrain.

His eyes widened instantly.

’What the hell is this!?’

The pale tree swayed unnaturally afterward while blossoms drifted soundlessly through the darkness surrounding it.

Then something crawled out from beneath the roots.

The creature erupted upward through the fractured soil with horrifying speed before crashing heavily across the valley floor several meters away from Oliver. Its body resembled a grotesquely malformed serpent covered in pale, fissured hide reminiscent of ancient bone, though portions of raw flesh still remained partially visible beneath the thin translucent skin stretched suffocatingly tight around its frame.

Jagged crimson spines jutted savagely along its back from head to tail like sharpened ribs forcibly protruding outward, while elongated claws burrowed deeply into the earth beneath it as though anchoring the creature against the ground itself.

Then its mouth slowly split apart, unveiling rows of pitch black teeth densely packed within the cavernous maw.

Another creature surfaced moments later from beneath the roots nearby, followed almost immediately by a third afterward.

Oliver felt his stomach sink.

They resembled the Mourn Wyrm almost perfectly. They were not fully matured yet, but there was no mistaking the connection to the distinct creature described before.

’Great. I fight a Rank 2 Puppet, survive by sheer luck, and now I’m dealing with the children of a useless but absurdly overpowered monster?’

The three creatures released violent hisses afterward before immediately locking onto Oliver and Rook with ravenous hostility. Thick strands of saliva dripped from their mouths while the crimson spines lining their backs twitched erratically.

The first creature lunged.