Burn the Tree of Life

Synthara darted between the wooden tendrils like a flash of orange-red and black. She made use of her strings to tie down and hinder the wooden tendrils but there was only so much they could do if she could not destroy them.

‘Damn, why do I have to fight a potential Demon King this early!?’ The knowledge she had gained from the Throne when she touched it told her that Julius was powerful enough to become a Demon King himself. He had the all-encompassing obsession required for one. The piece of the Throne within her deemed him Joy. Synthara did not wish to have another challenger for the throne, she had to nip this in the bud.

She wished she could fire back at the priest but she could not due to the self-imposed challenge she put on herself. She wanted to not kill as many people as she could, not out of compassion, but because this was a perfect PR moment in the waiting.

If she could take down the tree with minimal casualties amongst the bystanders, then that would surely win over the people of this kingdom regardless of whatever Aeturnus did over the past few centuries. She was up against three other realms led by Demon Kings just like herself, who had a huge headstart, she needed all the bodies she could throw at them. Otherwise this tree would be ash right about now.

Morgan assured her earlier in the fight that she had a way of mitigating the spores but she was taking an awfully long time doing it. If this keeps up she might have to pull out her trump card now and risk discovery.

After a wooden tentacle nearly whipped her in the face, she noticed that the spores were falling less densely until it almost stopped entirely. Even the wooden tentacles moved slower. The canopy was also getting closer as the tree stopped growing.

Synthara felt a chill from down below. She looked down and saw that the roots of the tree were completely frozen. It also stopped the roots from destroying more of the city.

Wilhelm and Morgan were fighting that assassin the priest begged for help from, who was freezing everything around her. Wilhelm kept her two bodyguards occupied while Morgan was summoning various familiars and some of her undead bodyguards to harass but not kill the assassin, attacking from multiple directions to force her to use her wide-ranged frost attacks. Morgan contributed with large ice spells of her own.

“The spores have stopped! Without a constant amount of them, it seems the people are being brought back to their senses! Unleash your full power and punish the fake priest, my lady!” Morgan said to Synthara telepathically.

Synthara smiled like a predator who just had a rabbit with its feet cut off thrown in front of it and began to soar towards the now still treetop.

“Impossible! I am the tree of life! The final paradise for all mortalkind! I cannot be stopped like this!”

The wooden tentacles feebly tried to stop her but Synthara blasted her way through with no hesitation. She burned through the thick foliage until she reached the top where she was almost blinded by the sun.

She looked down from below and saw a massive bush of green reaching out almost as far as the eye can see. Even seeing a few clouds at eye level. All around her was defenseless foliage ready to be burned at her pleasure.

Synthara cackled madly as she flew about and dropped as many fire spells as she could on the leaves. Some wooden tendrils erupted the foliage and tried to grab her but all they did was provide more paths for the fire to travel down, eventually reaching the bottom of the canopy where people can see a tree with its leaves on fire. Julius screamed in pain as the fire spread throughout entire the treetop, the explosive force of which made him feel as if chunks of his scalp were being torn off. Smoke and fire consumed the skies, yet Synthara’s sight and breathing were not hindered due to her unique Demon King powers. She flew higher than anyone else, the sun and sky choked with ash, above all life in a sea of fire and smoke.

However, for all of her flare, the depth of the treetop had not reduced at all. The tree emitted smoke as it burned, yet the leaves did not diminish at all.

Julius laughed. “Foolish mage. Did you think the tree of life would be that easy to destroy!? As long as I have even the tiniest dewdrop, I can build anew! No matter what you do, the dawn of spring will always arrive to burn away the night of winter! I am the first and the last, the infinite, the all-mighty!”

The frost around the tree's roots began to break and the tree slowly started to grow and produce more spores again. Both Wilhelm and Morgan were slowly reaching their limits as Juno and her familiars advanced upon them.

Synthara sighed, she will have to use her trump card after all. If she’s gonna announce her glorious return to her opponents, she might as well do it in style.

“And spring will wither before the advent of summer.”

Synthara closed her eyes. For all of her life she had to hold back her lust for destruction. It was a privilege only the strong could enjoy, for they held the lives of the weak in their hands. It was a fact of life, fantasy world or not. The ways the strong distinguished and defined themselves may vary, but the fact remains that people exist to get hurt and inflict hurt on others. The ones who have achieved the total apex of life are the ones who have both a monopoly on the distribution of destruction and have victims to bestow upon it too. The moment when one inflicts a defeat on an opponent so as to be completely, utterly, and beautifully destroyed, never to rise again is the greatest moment a human can experience. Even more when it's inflicted on someone they despise.

That moment came for Synthara. Plans and politics faded away from her mind. The only thing that mattered was making the most of this moment.

“Demon King of the 6th Heaven: Múspell Ragnarokr.”

Synthara’s old wizard clothes burned away in favor of her elegant black dress with metal neck crest, only now a blood red halo formed over her head and behind her were six wings of deep red black flame, standing out amidst the orange flame and grey smoke all around her.

She pointed her finger towards the tree and scooped a small piece of the bloodlust and hatred within her soul, manifesting as a black ember that gently floated down as if it were a drop of water. As soon as it impacted the leaves, the black flame consumed and burned everything around it, including the other flames.

Julius felt unimaginable pain and screamed as to make the earth tremble. The tree shook and writhed, the sound of falling leaves and snapping bark audible even amidst the shaking. Synthara calmly made a large fireball in her hands, raised it in the air, and had it explode into smaller fireballs, raining down over the tree and accelerating its destruction. Orange, red, grey, green, and brown were painted over with black.

“W-why am I not regenerating!?”

“My fire can burn anything as long as I can imagine it being burned. To me, priest, for all your talk of being life itself, you are still just a tree. And trees are flammable no matter what pointless labels you attach to it.” Synthara said as she stood above the tree, brightening her silhouette so that she would be more visible.

"Who are you!?"

This was her time to officially announce her grand return to the world as the prophecies in Morgan's books foretold. Synthara fussed with her hair and ensured her clothes were presentable. Then she casted a spell to project her voice above the chaos.

"I am Synthara, Demon King of the 6th Heaven, Goddess of Fire, Goddess of Magic, Patron Deity of the Ragna Kingdom, Creator of the land of Ragna, and the Ruler of Valhalla." Synthara announced with pride and dignity.

The people muttered amongst themselves and stared at the black and red angel in the sky. The image of the six-winged angel floating in the ash-choked sky descending on to the mortal plane after her millennium long sleep, exactly like it was in the holy texts.

"I have come to mark the beginning of Ragnarok, the entire world shall be conquered through fire and steel under my rule. The three heathen gods who have oppressed and mocked you for so long will find themselves choking on their arrogance as they die by my, no, our hands. My faithful, be vindicated as your patience and suffering will finally be rewarded. You shall be known as a nation of conquerors! For those who wavered in their belief, I give you the opportunity to redeem yourselves and wipe away your shame with service in my army alongside the Einjerjar! For those who still reject me..." Synthara created a massive black fireball and launched it upwards towards the canopy, its explosion rang throughout the entire city and caused a large chunk of the canopy to fall apart in a mess of wood and foilage. People screamed as chunks of burning wood were hurtling towards them but the wood disintegrated and the flames burnt out before they reached the ground.  "Let them be but kindling for our fire of conquest!"

The crowd's roar and cries for conquest could be heard throughout the city over the raging fire and Julius' cries of terror.

Meanwhile Synthara couldnt help but let out a childish giggle which turned into mad laughter.

Soon all of the leaves were destroyed, leaving the tree with only a few stubborn branches left, but even those were quickly disintegrating. Throughout the four realms, a tree dwarfing any mountain in the land was visible across the horizon, burning with a crown of black flame.

From the Qin Empire, Tyranny looked upon a magical screen showing him the overview of the surface of his land, seeing the burning tree in the distance. “Hmph, an ostentatious display from a spat between a cowardly child and a spiteful hedonist. It is time that this deadlock between worlds comes to a close under the grip of Tyranny. This world has gone on without order for too long.” Tyranny turned towards a drow messenger standing obediently at the entrance to the command room.

“Tell the Khan to gather the men and prepare to attack the Ragna Kingdom.”

From the Bolotnyy tribes, Zhang Jue looked from atop a mountain peak having tea with some of his subordinates with an unconcerned smile. He was more focused on his tea and present company who only sigh at their leader’s nonchalantness.

From the Ougonian Empire, Aeturnus, who wore a white robe and a gold mask that changed appearance every time one looked at it, silently shook in anger. He pointed his hand at one of his three remaining imperial guards and gestured for him to come closer. He whispered his orders to the elf who wore a laurel wreath on his head. The elf nodded and he, along with the rest of the imperial guards stepped out of his chamber. He seethed on his throne until he lashed out with divine power and wrecked everything in his chamber, still breathing heavily. “She…must…die…” Aeturnus muttered.

Julius felt like his mind was about to break from the sheer agony, it was as if the pleasure he felt from his power before was inverted to pain. He felt like his identity and sanity were being ripped apart. His screams were audible throughout the entire kingdom, even reaching the realms beyond.

“I surrender, please, just make it stop!” Julius cried pathetically as what few branches he had burned off and vanished before they could reach the ground, rendering him just a tall trunk.

“Tell everyone what you did first. Do not leave anything out. If you do, I will make it worse.” Synthara perched proudly atop a lower branch.

“I deceived everyone! I was not sent here to save you, but to subjugate the kingdom to the Ultimatum! ! I allowed my subordinates to do as they pleased with your women and children! I subverted this kingdom’s economy and politics for 400 years and use it to conquer the other two realms! Afterwards, we would have killed every last inhabitant here and settled with Ougonians, offering your souls to the Ultimatum so that they may use you to grow stronger!”

Synthara raised her eyebrows in surprise.‘Oh, the last two parts are interesting. That other part with the women and children definitely makes this deserved. I got more than I bargained for. Neat.”

The citizens of the kingdom at first were confused and horrified. Then the confusion turned into anger as their boos and curses were heard from all across the capital. Symbols of the Ultimatum were gathered in the streets and burned.

“I always knew those Ultimatists were no good!”

“We beat our children for this?!”

“Ultimatist? More like Ultomato!”

Synthara basked in the moment, closing her eyes.

“There! I did you as you asked! Now please spare me!”

“Spare you? I never promised anything of the sort.”

The priest whimpered.

“I suppose you can console yourself with the fact that this is not nearly as bad as what I plan to do to your god. My fire is made to raze the heavens, let them carry you as you plummet down to cold, hard reality.”

Synthara felt a heavy hand touch her shoulder. A deep, old voice that carried the weight of thousands of battles spoke.

“Interesting power you have, little girl.”

Synthara responded by exploding everything within her immediate vicinity in a large burst of black flame, the explosion carving out a chunk of the tree large enough to almost reach the other side.

Yet in front of her unharmed, was a grizzled, one-eyed old elf with white hair and numerous battle scars in white armor with a lightning bolt the size of a pike in his hand. The air smelled of ozone as it cracked and popped audibly

“No matter how hot summer shines, the autumn rain inexorably rises in its place.”