Reborn as a Demonic Tree - Chapter 453

Stella felt her heart freeze in her chest. "My... mother?" Her eyes widened, and she looked up to the sky, where she could feel Ash's presence the strongest. "I can speak to her?"

"Hopefully. When I intertwined my roots with the World Tree, I heard her pain—but couldn't understand it. But now, with my new language skills and upgraded language comprehension fruit that I can grow, we should be able to understand her."

Stella clenched her fists.

Did she want to listen to her mother's pain when she was still powerless to save her? The culprits of her anguish—the Celestial Empire—stood far above the Ashfallen Sect in strength. They were known to possess numerous Monarch Realm cultivators, and the Empire itself had stood for a long time. It was like a blinding pillar of humanity in a wilderness infested with monsters, and at the center of it all was possibly her mother, the World Tree.

They would never let the World Tree go. Not without a fight, and one Stella wasn't even anywhere close to humoring.

I'm done putting everyone in harm's way due to my selfishness and petty pride. She relaxed her hand at her side. But at the same time, I want to know—I need to hear her. While I may be powerless now, learning of my mother's pain might help motivate me to progress even faster.

"I... would like to, even if it's just to hear her voice." Stella's voice dropped to a whisper, "I'd be happy with just that much."

"Okay. It will take an hour for the fruit to grow, then we can experience it together. Though I can make no promise that she will actually answer us."

"That's fine, thank you, Ash." Stella sat down on a nearby tree root and restlessly shifted the communication stone she had been given between her fingers. There was one unpleasant thought swirling in her mind.

What if the World Tree rejects me? If she isn't my mother, then I can only keep searching. But if she is my mother and rejects me... It's fine. I'll be fine.

Having only foggy memories of her father from childhood and nothing regarding her mother, she was used to this—the cold absence of a parent's love. While Ash had stepped in and assumed that role the best anyone possibly could have, there was still a disconnect. Even now, he was mountains away and was only present as a vague clump of spiritual presence in the sky.

Maybe it was childish, but she just wanted one of her parents to hug her. Gently pat her head and softly say while she enjoyed their warm embrace, "You've done alright, kid. I'm proud of you."

In fact, that wasn't the true root of her desire. If it was, then Ash or the others telling her that would have been enough. But she selfishly wanted confirmation that her parents hadn't abandoned her on purpose and wanted her back.

"Are you okay, Big Sister?"

Stella paused her fiddle with the stone and glanced up at Ryker. The silver-haired kid was standing before the chessboard opposite her disciple. Jasmine was also looking over her shoulder at her with concern.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Stella replied in a tone that didn't even convince herself. "What about you, Ryker? Looking forward to seeing your family again?"

"Yes and no," Ryker said as he placed down the chess piece he had been holding over the board and hummed in thought. "I'm worried about my mother and want to save her from there. I also hate some of my brothers and sisters and wouldn't mind seeing them die."

His eyes flickered to Sebastian, who winced at his last word. "But at the same time," Ryker paused, his lips stretching into a thin line, "They are my family, and um, if they die, they won't come back. Well, unless they are turned into spirit trees and whatnot, but that's not the same."

"Yeah... that's true." Stella leaned back against the tree and looked up through its sparse canopy at the sky, where the tear in space to the heavens had been. "I think we all view death a little differently now after seeing what happens to those lost souls in the afterlife," she muttered.

Feeling weirdly introspective for once, she continued her musings to herself.

I've killed a lot of people for self-defense, personal gain, and sometimes for really petty reasons. Now that I think about it, no matter the reason, I didn't feel much remorse or pity for those I killed. Until now, I think I had such a disassociation with death because I've lived beside it my whole life. So many times, I should have died, yet I made it through. Except for Ash, nobody seemed to care if I survived as a child, so I treated killing others with that same disregard.

"It really does make you think twice, doesn't it? About killing people, I mean." Sebastian said, agreeing with her previous point.

"Yeah, to a point. Despite seeing where souls go, I doubt I can change." Stella glanced at Ryker and Jasmine, who was still looking at her, "I'm a broken person—but you two are different. Still young and having grown up with the warmth of family to balance out the coldness of this world. You two can still decide how to live moving forward." She leaned back again and closed her eyes, "I'm envious."

"You always start overthinking things when the topic of family is brought up."

Stella opened one eye to look at Diana.

The demoness was casually leaning against a nearby tree with one foot raised and munching on a fruit. She pointed at her with the half-eaten fruit still in hand, "Yeah, sure, you went a little far one too many times, and that could certainly be toned down. But I wouldn't beat yourself up over it," she took another hearty bite out the fruit, "Besides, what's so good about family anyway. Most are backstabbing psychos that you're effectively pitted against from birth for the house's limited resources. I never liked a single one of my siblings, and my parents just sought to use me."

"Most cultivation families are like that," Grand Elder Redclaw added with a somber tone. "Even the Redclaw family had some dark times. It's only due to Ashlock's generosity that infighting for resources is a problem of the past."

"Yeah, well, besides that recent incident in the pocket realm where some of your youngsters were killed," Diana pointed out as she finished the fruit, "Anyway, Stella. A true family is what you have around you right now. But if it's being related by blood that you are so concerned about, don't be. I met a relative, a member of the Ravena Clan, during the last Mystic Realm visit. While he did make me stronger, that was nothing but hell."

While Stella listened and understood what Diana was saying, a distinct memory flashed through her mind. The day her father didn't return. She'd awakened from a night of sleep to the pattering of rain. The sky was dark and overcast, and as she walked through the pavilion corridors, a sense of foreboding hung in the air. That had been the last day she hoped her father would come home, as the next she was informed of his passing.

The mood on Red Vine Peak turned suffocating from that day forth. The servant's gazes changed—none contained pity or kindness. Whenever they saw her, there was only coldness to their expression. They were servants, and they had lost their master. They didn't deem her worthy. In her opinion, that's where a family differs. While yes, there was fighting and competition within the family, they would at least look at you. She doubted anyone could truly understand the crushing loneliness she had endured as a child stuck on a mountain with people who were indifferent to her existence.

"You wouldn't understand," Stella said, subconsciously curling up her legs and hugging her knees. The feeling of bark on her back calmed her somewhat, but the chilling coldness of those memories still haunted her. She had tried desperately to get along with the servants, but they'd ignored her. They would only listen if she gave a direct order and reminded them she was the mistress of the peak, no matter how little they thought of her.

But what child was supposed to be okay with having to order adults to play or talk to her? They wouldn't even feed her unless she demanded them to.

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The loneliness had been so bad that she had resorted to talking to a demonic tree. While she had felt a faint connection with the tree at first, cluing her in that there might be more to it, Ash had still been a tree. Unable to talk or interact with her.

Yet she had persisted out of desperation. Days, weeks, and seasons passed as she talked aloud, effectively to herself. The servants, who had slowly been replaced by Diana's family, then tried to murder her, yet Ash saved her. For the first time in forever, she had made a friend and possible family who cared about her, only for that happiness to be threatened. She was then sent off to a tournament to fight for her life and to keep her home.

Sometimes, it felt like since birth, she had always been fighting—killing anyone who stood between her and the little happiness she so desperately tried to cling to. It was frankly exhausting, and she didn't expect anyone else to understand. They could call her a monster and talk down her achievements all they liked, but this is who she was and what the world required her to be.

"I just need to get stronger and quickly," she murmured without thinking.

"Kids these days," Grand Elder Redclaw shook his head, "Have a little patience, Stella. Take it from an old man like me; you still have time. With continuous hard work, you will inevitably grow. Be kinder to yourself and take it slowly—you can achieve anything one step at a time." He smiled, "Because, unlike me, you have one of the greatest talents I've ever seen. If anyone can beat the heavens and make reality kneel in the future, it will be you and Ashlock."

"But that's because of my bloodline—"

"And work ethic," The Grand Elder said, firmly cutting her off. "Talent is wasted on the lazy and foolish, and that is not the case with you. While your past shaped you, it does not define you. There's still time." The man shoved a book into her hand, "Here, a textbook on draconic to take your busy mind off things."

"Um, thank you," Stella said as she took the offered leatherbound book.

The Grand Elder smiled at her, "You have an unusual way about things, but you're a kind person, Stella. You saved myself and my family from ruin. Same with Jasmine and possibly the Silverspires by tonight."

"Those were all Ash's ideas," Stella pouted.

"Sure, if you say so." The Grand Elder chuckled and walked over to the chess game. Stella spent a while watching the Grand Elder teaching the two youngsters how to play better. It was so... peaceful.

Hold on, why did the Grand Elder have a book on draconic... and why is he so good at chess? Stella tapped her chin in thought. She always saw the man as a war hero who liked to scorch battlefields in hellfire, but maybe he had a studious side.

With a shrug, she opened the book to the first page.

Draconic is one of the most complex and poetic languages known to us in reality. Spoken by the elusive dragons—monsters with intellect that surpasses humans, it also involves a lot of sounds that are difficult for humans to reproduce. Pronunciation is almost impossible to convey through text, so this volume will focus on how to utilize draconic as a substitute for the ancient runic language when making formations.

Her bloodline was triggered after reading the introduction page despite her unsettled mind. The world tuned out, and her brain buzzed as the information flowed into her mind. The latent knowledge collected by her ancestors came back to her like muscle memory.

"Hey Stella?"

Stella glanced up from the book. "Xjev fu auy xepv—huh?" She placed a hand over her mouth in surprise.

Sebastian blinked in confusion, "Um... was that draconic?"

Stella nodded, "Yeah—ahem, yeah, it was." She coughed a little. The language was fierce on the vocal cords. "I was so focused that I didn't even see you there. Did you need something from me, Sebastian?"

Sebastian grinned, "I just received the dress you ordered."

"Dress...?" Stella tilted her head, "What dress?"

Sebastian imitated her voice, "I want something that makes me the center of attention in a final boss type of way. If I'm going to go dressed up, I want to ensure the Silverspires feel the need to respect me from the moment I walk in."

Stella scowled. "First of all, bad imitation; secondly, when did I say I wanted a dress? I hate dresses."

"Oh." Sebastian frowned, "Well, to be fair, neither I nor the tailor had any idea what 'Final Boss' meant. You usually run around in casual clothes or a tattered black cloak, so I thought if you were to stand out, you would need a fitting dress."

"If it's a dress, I don't want it." Stella looked back at her book, "I'll just go like this."

"Nobody will take you seriously dressed in such a tatted black cloak." Sebastian sighed.

"What's wrong with this," Stella raised an arm, showing the frayed edges and blood stains.

"Everything," Sebastian pinched the bridge of his nose, "Look, as a Silverspire, I can tell you we are incredibly pretentious, judgmental, and materialistic. We judge people not by the contents of their character but by how many gems dangle from their ears and hang around their necks. While your cultivation level would be enough to shut most of them up, you are wearing that artifact that hides your power. This means the only thing they have to judge you by are the red maple earrings that, I admit, hold a mythical charm to them and your pretty face."

Stella narrowed her eyes. "Right... so what's the problem? I've never cared what people think of my clothes."

"I just don't want a slaughter," Sebastian sounded exasperated, "Ideally, they hand over the Silver Core to Ryker, we save his mother, retrieve Ashlock's demon sword, and cut out a deal where they hand over many spirit stones. For that to go down without them fighting to the death, I need them to respect us from the moment we arrive. News of the Ashfallen Sect is traveling, but not fast enough. Even if they hear the news or rumors of what the Ashfallen Sect did to the Nightrose family, I bet they won't believe them at first."

"Okay, okay, geez." Stella slammed the book shut, "Show me the stupid dress."

Sebastian had his metal stream condense and take on the shape of a scarecrow—his spatial ring flashed, and he adorned it with a black dress. He excitedly gestured to it, "What do you think? Should I explain the details about the materials used or perhaps—"

"I hate it."

Sebastian groaned, "Why? It looks great and is perfectly tailored to your dimensions. The materials used are top-notch, and I have spent a fortune on them. Can you at least try it?"

"Nope," Stella shook her head, "Not a chance."

A presence suddenly made itself known, "The fruit has finished growing—oh, is that Stella's dress for the Silverspire visit? It looks great. Always been a fan of the gothic style."

"I know, right?" Sebastian nodded, "Unfortunately, Stella doesn't seem too keen—"

Stella set the book aside and quickly stood up, "I'll try it."

"But..."

"You should have said it was a gothic-style dress from the start. I want to try it on."

Sebastian chuckled at her change of attitude, "What even is gothic style?"

In truth, Stella had no idea either. It was just an excuse she came up with. She hated dresses, but if she had to wear something like this and Ash thought it looked cool, she would at least try it on.

With a wave of her hand and a flash of her spatial rings, her outfit under her cult cloak was replaced with the dress. Immediately, she let out a strained breath because of how tight and restrictive it felt. Yet she couldn't deny how amazing the material felt against her skin and the subtle pulse of runes inlaid into the fabric. Ensuring her chest was secured, she dismissed the cult cloak to reveal the dress beneath.

Sebastian eyed her up and down and nodded, "Fits perfectly and suits you."

Stella looked down and wasn't sure. The dress was long and slender, with a slit to allow her to walk unimpeded. Her shoulders were exposed, which was something she was very unused to. There were also these strange gloves that ran up her arm like socks. They were also inlaid with a runic circuit that let her store and amplify her Qi output.

"Ash, what do you think? Ah!" an excited Diana almost tackled her to the ground as she was embraced in a sisterly hug.

"You look amazing!" Diana broke the hug and began inspecting everything. Pulling on some straps and fixing how the dress fitted around her chest, she finally stepped back to give her some breathing room and nodded. "You no longer look like a hobo."

Stella stamped her foot, "I'm not a hobo!"

"Not anymore, you aren't," Diana winked. "Right, Ashlock?"

"You look great, Stella. It suits you," Ash commented.

"Ah... okay." Stella had secretly hoped he would disapprove of it so she could return to her comfy cult cloak. Though looking down, she had to admit it did look quite sleek. "Thanks, Sebastian, for having this made for me, and everyone for the compliments."

"I can't wait to get dressed up too now," Diana grinned, "We are going to look so cool the Silverspires will have no choice but to accept their new overlords."

Sebastian side-eyed Diana but didn't say anything.

The demoness then ran off. Elaine and Grand Elder Redclaw also agreed it looked great, and soon, everyone returned to what they were doing before. Stella sat down on the tree root, feeling exhausted already. Just as she was about to open the book again to distract her mind, a fruit floated before her.

It was a pale blue color and around the size of an apple.

"Ah, the language comprehension fruit." Stella reached out and grasped it. After a moment, she decided to stop overthinking things. Biting into it, a foreign feeling enveloped her brain.

"Ready to listen to your mother?" Ash asked.

"Assuming the World Tree even is my mother," Stella muttered as she straightened her posture and nodded, "I'm ready."

"Good, now close your eyes. I'm going to listen to the World Tree and project what I hear into your mind."

Stella did as instructed and closed her eyes. Her breathing was a little fast as anxiety festered in the pit of her stomach. Yet she didn't let any bad thoughts play through her mind. She kept her consciousness crystal clear.

Then it came. The voice of the World Tree.

It was nothing but soul-shaking rage. Stella gritted her teeth, and her nails dug into her legs. She had to endure and remember this. Even if this was all the World Tree amounted to, it was possibly still her mother. She should be a good daughter and listen.

"Zephyrine..."

A word rang out among the rage. Stella desperately dived into the madness and grasped for it with all her mental might. It felt familiar... didn't Ashlock say that Wyvern mentioned that name? But if there was one word among the screaming, there might be more.

"Janus..."

Stella's eyes widened as she heard a name she recognized—her supposed father, who shared her bloodline and had run off to the Frozen Star Sect.

"...and my dear Stella. Please save me."