God’s Tree

Now that Argolaith had the map, he felt both excitement and hesitation. It was the key to leaving the Forgotten Forest, a place that had tested him in ways he hadn't imagined. But the idea of leaving without taking all the treasures this place offered didn't sit well with him. This forest was brimming with mysteries, and the tree-house itself had been an unexpected trove of knowledge and tools.

"I should take a few more things," he said aloud, his voice echoing faintly in the quiet interior of the tree-house.

The first things to go into the storage ring were books—dozens of them. Many looked ancient, their spines cracked and pages yellowed, but a handful were in pristine condition, their covers embedded with intricate runes that glowed faintly in the dim light. Next, Argolaith turned his attention to the cauldrons. Several were still shiny, as though they had never been used. Their craftsmanship was exquisite, adorned with carvings of magical symbols he didn't yet understand but hoped to learn about in the future.

His gaze moved to the glowing magic stones embedded in the walls. They pulsed faintly, their light casting an eerie glow across the room. With a bit of effort, Argolaith managed to pry a few loose. "These could be useful," he muttered, rolling one between his fingers before adding it to the storage ring.

By the time he was done, the tree-house looked emptier, its magical aura dimmed by the absence of the stones. He turned back to the room and gave it one last look. "That should do," he said. "This ring is incredible—I can store everything I need, even creatures I defeat along the way. Time to head out."

With that, he walked to the door—the same door he had entered days ago when he stumbled upon this sanctuary. Taking a deep breath, he opened it. The forest outside greeted him with its usual foreboding stillness. The air was cool and carried the faint scent of damp earth and moss.

Turning back to the tree-house, he gave a small nod. "Farewell, old tree-house. Thanks for everything."

The map in his hands was simple but clear. The path out of the forest was mostly straight, with only a few landmarks to guide him. "It shouldn't be too hard," he muttered, tracing his finger along the faint lines. "Let's just hope the terrain hasn't changed too much since this map was drawn."

He started walking, his boots crunching softly against the forest floor. The towering trees loomed above, their twisted branches forming a dense canopy that allowed only slivers of sunlight to filter through. Hours passed as he trudged forward, his eyes constantly scanning for signs of danger or anything useful.

Before long, he realized just how long this journey might take. Running could cut the time in half, but it would also make too much noise, attracting the attention of the strange creatures that roamed the forest. He decided to keep his pace slow and steady.

"At least I can collect herbs as I go," he said, trying to look on the bright side. His keen eyes spotted a patch of plants with glowing blue leaves. Kneeling down, he carefully plucked them, placing them into the storage ring.

As he stood, something caught his eye—a creature lying just ahead. It was one of the strange beasts that had been stalking him since he entered the forest. Its grotesque form was partially hidden by the underbrush, but it wasn't moving.

"Is it… dead?" Argolaith approached cautiously, his hand on the hilt of his sword. The closer he got, the clearer it became that the creature had already been killed. Its chest didn't rise or fall, and its twisted limbs lay motionless.

"Well, that's convenient," he said with a smirk, putting it into the storage ring. With a flick of his wrist, the creature disappeared into the ring's dimensional space. "Might as well make use of it."

Days turned into a routine of walking, eating, and sleeping. Argolaith made steady progress, but his frequent stops to collect magical plants and creatures slowed him down. By the end of the first week, he had only covered 100 miles.

"Not bad," he said, leaning against a tree and consulting the map. "At this rate, it's going to take a while to get back to my cabin. But that's fine—it just means more time to collect things." He patted the storage ring affectionately. "This ring really is a game-changer."

The ring was proving invaluable. Every creature he defeated along the way went into the ring, their bodies perfectly preserved. The magic of the ring kept everything in a frozen state, ensuring that food stayed fresh and herbs retained their potency. The only limitation was that living creatures couldn't enter it—a fact Argolaith was grateful for, as he had no desire to test its effects on himself.

The journey wasn't without its dangers. Argolaith encountered more of the strange creatures as he moved deeper into the forest. They varied in size and shape, some resembling wolves with too many eyes, others appearing as grotesque hybrids of insect and reptile. But with each battle, Argolaith's confidence grew.

Where once he had struggled to bring down even the smallest of creatures, now he could defeat them with ease. His swordsmanship had improved dramatically, his strikes precise and powerful. Most creatures fell with just one or two blows.

"This is kind of fun," he admitted one evening, sitting by a small fire and roasting a piece of meat from one of the creatures he had defeated. "Making my way back to the cabin, collecting all these plants and creatures… it's like I'm on a grand hunt."

The forest, which had once seemed so hostile and impenetrable, now felt almost familiar. He had adapted to its dangers, learned its secrets, and even thrived within its challenges. But he couldn't let his guard down—not yet. There was still a long way to go, and the deeper he ventured, the more dangerous the forest seemed to become.

On the twelfth day of his journey, Argolaith came across a clearing unlike any he had seen before. The ground was covered in soft moss, and in the center stood a tree unlike the others in the forest. It was massive, its bark shimmering with a faint golden light. At its base grew a cluster of plants with leaves that sparkled like tiny stars.

"What is this place?" he whispered, stepping cautiously into the clearing. The air here felt different—lighter, almost sacred. Kneeling by the glowing plants, he carefully plucked a few and placed them into the storage ring.

As he stood, a low growl echoed through the clearing. His hand went instinctively to his sword as a massive shadow emerged from the trees. It was a creature unlike any he had faced before—towering and powerful, with glowing red eyes that locked onto him with an almost predatory intelligence.

"So much for an easy walk," Argolaith muttered, drawing his blade.

The battle that followed was fierce and unrelenting. The creature was faster and stronger than anything he had encountered, its attacks precise and calculated. But Argolaith was no longer the same man who had stumbled into the forest weeks ago. His movements were fluid, his strikes powerful.

After what felt like an eternity, the creature fell with a final, earth-shaking roar. Breathing heavily, Argolaith wiped the sweat from his brow and approached the fallen beast. "You'll make a fine addition to my collection," he said, putting it into the storage ring.

As the creature vanished into the ring, Argolaith looked back at the golden tree. "This forest still has a lot of secrets," he said softly. "But for now, I need to focus on getting home."

With renewed determination, he set off once more, the map in one hand and his sword in the other. Each step brought him closer to his cabin—and closer to the answers he sought.