The Demon of The North-Chapter 152 - 151. The Second Tree

Like before, Vivianne used her spirit power in tandem with Roxanne’s demonic ability, allowing them to travel far faster than any horse or carriage ever could. Space itself seemed to fold beneath them, mana bending obediently as they crossed the distance in a breath.

At Borough Port, Marvessa and Red were already waiting. The moment they touched down on the stone pier and Roxanne folded her demon wings neatly behind her back, the atmosphere shifted. People froze, then bowed. One by one, the citizens dropped to their knees, heads lowered in reverence before their emperor and empress.

"Rise," Roxanne said gently, her voice carrying warmth, and she smiled, small but sincere.

Then she turned her attention forward. "Let’s make it quick, Marvessa," she continued, giving her a brief nod.

Red had already moved into position, instinctively taking guard. Red Vossler was a mixed-blood demon with werewolf lineage, though not a shifter. His build is leaner than most who shared the same werewolf blood, lacking the sheer bulk of those who could transform at will.

For an alpha, he’s smaller than his peers. But what he lacked in size, he more than made up for in magic. His power ran deep and refined, his control was precise, and his physique is anything but weak.

Many mistook Red for someone lesser at first glance. Few realised that to stand as Roxanne’s aide required more than strength; it demanded intelligence, restraint, and a dangerous kind of cunning. Red Vossler possessed all of it, honed through years at her side.

Without further delay, the three of them lifted into the air, leaving the port behind as the sea stretched endlessly below.

Seeing Marvessa hover above him, Red glanced at Marvessa, a frown creasing his brow. "You can fly?" he muttered. "Then why did we use a boat before?"

Marvessa shot him a look, one brow lifting sharply. "You didn’t ask," she replied coolly. "You just dragged me onto the boat. I’m a spirit bearer; how could you possibly think I can’t fly? That’s absurd."

With that, she rose higher into the air, following Roxanne and Vivianne without another word. Her figure became a drifting silhouette against the sky, light and effortless, as if the wind itself carried her forward.

Red remained behind at the port, arms crossed, scowling faintly as he watched them disappear into the distance. He let out a quiet breath through his nose, already resigned to his role. Someone had to stay. Someone always did.

He turned his attention back to the docks, senses sharp, posture relaxed but ready, keeping guard, as he always had. Elsewhere across the continent, the hunt continued.

Meanwhile, the transition is seamless and unsettling. One moment, Roxanne still felt her body in her normal state, full of power, with mana running through her veins. The next, the world lurched, sound thinned, and pressure shifted, and then they arrived. 𝓯𝙧𝓮𝓮𝒘𝓮𝙗𝙣𝒐𝒗𝒆𝓵.𝓬𝓸𝒎

The island greeted them with silence. Not the peaceful quiet of a forest at rest, nor the sacred hush of a spirit grove, but something emptier. Heavier.

The air pressed against Roxanne’s chest the instant she inhaled, thick and resistant, as though the world itself hesitated to let her breathe. Her lungs adjusted instinctively, drawing deeper, slower breaths, but the sensation lingered. A subtle constriction. A reminder.

Vivianne stiffened beside her. For the first time since she had been a child, since before she had learnt to hear the spirits, there’s nothing on the island.

No whispers carried on the wind, no gentle murmurs from the soil beneath her feet, no distant tides of mana brushing against her senses like familiar hands. The world is really quiet.

Vivianne let out a soft breath, half-laugh, half-exhale of disbelief. "So this is how they feel," she murmured.

Amusement flickered through Vivianne’s voice, light and almost playful, but beneath it lay something sharp, something uneasy. To her, the absence is deafening. Terrifying in its own way. Like standing in a vast hall where every heartbeat, every whisper of breath, had suddenly stopped.

She had lived her entire life accompanied by spirits, by murmurs in the air, and by mana flowing like a second pulse beneath the world. Here, there’s nothing. No gentle hum. No watchful presence. Just silence.

Marvessa landed a moment after Roxanne and Vivianne, boots touching the ground with a soft thud. She straightened at once, eyes searching Vivianne’s face. "Are you all right, Your Highness?" she asked, concern clear in her tone.

"I’m fine," Vivianne replied, fingers tightening slightly around Roxanne’s arm. "Just... amused." It’s a half-truth. Roxanne could feel it in the way her wife leaned into her, grounding herself against something solid and familiar.

Roxanne’s gaze swept across the island, the barren air, and the strange heaviness pressing against her lungs. "How will the Spirit Kings manifest," she asked quietly, "if there’s no mana and no spirits anywhere on this island?"

A ripple passed through the still air. "Do not worry, human."

Undine is the first to appear, her form rising from nothing at all, water gathering where there had been none. Her voice flowed like a calm tide. "We are called Spirit Kings for a reason. We can manifest even in land devoid of mana, such as this."

Another presence followed. "This place is better than Aerthysia," Terra Nova said, her voice rich with the weight of soil and roots, her form solidifying like stone wrapped in green.

Roxanne frowned slightly. "You’ve been to that continent?"

Tempest answered with a sharp scoff, wind curling into a visible shape beside them. "If we were not there, how do you think they would have had a Tree of Life at all?"

Afrit’s flames flared last, low and controlled, his eyes burning with quiet authority. "We are the Spirit Kings of this world," he said evenly. "We are everywhere. That’s why Calonia was cursed."

"Oh yes, I forgot about that part already." Roxanne said, smiling awkwardly.

Roxanne’s jaw tightened as the truth settled into her bones. Now she understood why this island had been avoided for centuries. Why no one stayed. Why even the strongest of Kaelindor’s people felt their strength bleed away the moment they set foot here.

This land is starving of mana. Not poisoned. Not cursed. Simply empty. Something Kaelindorians are never meant to endure, because they’re born in the land filled with pure mana.

The air pressed against her lungs, heavy and dull, each breath requiring conscious effort. Even her demon blood, resilient as it is, felt restrained, as though wrapped in invisible chains.

"We will start." Terra Nove said as she glided through the empty spot after they walked to the centre of the island.

Then the Spirit Kings moved, and the ground beneath their feet pulsed. Soil parted as though recognising something ancient and absolute. The earth opened, welcoming rather than resisting.

Vines traced glowing patterns across the surface, spreading outward in vast, intricate sigils. Roots awakened beneath the ground, ancient and dormant, stretching as if rousing from a long, exhausted sleep. Even the stone began to hum, a deep resonance vibrating through the island’s core.

Undine manifested first, her form emerging like liquid moonlight, water gathering from nothing, suspended in the air as if reality itself bent to accommodate her presence. "Do not fear the emptiness," she said calmly. "We do not require mana to exist. We are its source."

Tempest followed in a spiral of pressure and soundless wind, the air finally moving again, though heavier than before. Afrit burnt into being next, not with destructive flame, but with controlled, radiant heat, a fire that didn’t consume but refined. And last came Terra Nova.

When she appeared, the island answered. The soil darkened, rich and alive. The vines thickened, veins glowing emerald-gold. Terra Nova knelt, pressing her palm to the ground, and the land responded like a child recognising its mother after centuries of neglect.

"This island is better than Aerthysia," she said quietly. "Closer. Cleaner."

Roxanne finally understood. Kaelindor isn’t just rich in mana; it sits right at the world’s heart. And this island, barren and avoided, lay directly along that unseen vein. Empty not by accident, but by imbalance. A place stripped clean by proximity, unable to sustain itself without guidance.

Afrit’s eyes gleamed, reflecting embers that did not yet burn. "It will anchor," he said, voice heavy with certainty.

"Stronger than the one in Aerthysia," Undine added calmly. "Strong enough that any children born here will one day be capable of living on the mainland."

Terra Nova laughed softly, a sound like leaves brushing together. "You’ll be kind to them, won’t you?" she teased, glancing at Roxanne. "Those humans breed quickly, but their lives are short. Unlike you Kaelindorians. Or the elves."

Before Roxanne could reply, the air shifted. Wind swept through the clearing, unseen but absolute, stabilising the flow and balancing the forces so none overwhelmed the other. The air itself seemed to lock into place, breath becoming easier and steadier, as if the island exhaled for the first time in centuries.

The mana responded. It surged, not violently, but deeply, threading through soil, stone, and sky, reaching outward toward Kaelindor’s distant heart. The connection took hold.

A Tree of Life began to rise. Stronger. Purer. Rooted closer to the source of the world itself. And as its presence settled, the land trembled, then expanded, stretching outward as if waking from a long starvation, ready at last to sustain life again.

Taller than Aerthysia’s. Brighter. Stronger.

Its leaves shimmered with pure mana, its trunk thrumming with the heartbeat of the world itself. And for the first time since arriving, Vivianne inhaled and heard the spirits breathe back.