Extra's POV: My Obsessive Villainous Fiancee Is The Game's Final Boss-Chapter 128: The Living Curse

The ground shuddered beneath their feet.

Maria stumbled as the tremors rippled outward from the Green Tree, shaking the very roots of the earth.

Her breath caught in her throat as she watched her father, Chief Ilyan, standing over the corpse of the prisoner, blood dripping from his dagger and soaking into the roots of the sacred tree.

"What have you done..." Maria whispered in horror, her eyes wide.

But Ilyan didn't hear her. He was laughing.

"Now they'll see!" He cried, his voice echoing through the grove as if sound couldn't get out. As if those outside it couldn't hear a thing of what was going on inside.

"Now they'll know we're not weak! Not broken! Not prey for Albion or that filthy Ross!" He screamed into the air as he laughed. "They thought they could build their walls and smile behind them. That they could bleed us out slowly, trade by trade, word by word. But we are not insects! We are warriors! We are blood! We are the forest! We're the Tribe of Three!"

The tree began to groan. Low, guttural sounds like a beast stirring from a long slumber rumbled out from its bark. The previous veins of soft green light which had pulsed through the tree were now turning dark, spreading like ink in water, threading through the roots, and slithering up the great trunk.

The pure green energy of the Green Tree dimmed, slowly replaced by a flickering, sickly shadow.

Then, a scream split the air.

The Dryad stumbled from the heart of the tree, her form twisting as she emerged. Maria cried out in shock.

The once radiant Dryad, their minor goddess of nature, a symbol of the peace inherent in the wild, was gone. In its place was something that could only be described as a monster.

The Dryad's hair, previously a beautiful spread of green vines, had turned black and brittle. Her skin was cracked and gray, her eyes filled with spreading blackness. Rot clung to her limbs, and thorns jutted from her arms and shoulders like weapons.

"NO!" Maria screamed.

The Dryad's mouth opened wider than it should have, releasing a raw, inhuman roar. The sound tore through the clearing, scattering birds from the treetops and sending a rumble through the earth itself.

Roots writhed beneath the grass, and the tree convulsed. The entire world felt as though it held its breath. Waiting.

Then the Dryad charged.

Ilyan barely had time to brace before she was on him.

The abomination moved with blinding speed, vines whipping out and lashing across his chest. It tore a wound in it, blood seeping out.

Ilyan roared, lifting his dagger, but the Dryad was faster. The enhanced Druid's body was nothing compared to that of a goddess, minor or not.

A claw tore through his shoulder, and then another ripped through his side, sending blood spraying in the air.

The chief gritted his teeth against the pain, swinging and hitting nothing.

Before he could recover, there was a shriek, the Dryad flashed in front of him, and his arm was gone.

"AARGHHH!" Ilyan howled, blood spurting as he fell to his knees, clutching at the space where his arm had been. He turned his head just as the Dryad moved for Maria.

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Time slowed.

Maria stood frozen. She could feel the sheer fury radiating from the corrupted Dryad. There was no hint of the spirit that had spoken kindly to all. That had smiled at her whenever she visited with her father.

All that was left was agony. Agony and vengeance.

"NO!" Ilyan dredged out every drop of energy that was still in him and blurred forward, slamming his shoulder into the Dryad just as she reached for Maria. The Dryad hissed, clawing at his chest, tearing through his furs and flesh, but he didn't break his grip.

The Dryad was a goddess but right now, she was weak from the corruption. And in that moment, his eyes, those mad, wild eyes, cleared.

He realized the extent of his mistake and the length he'd have to go to rectify it. There was only one way this would end. If the Dryad dies, the Tree dies.

"Maria." He rasped, his voice hoarse and broken. "I'm sorry. I... I didn't know. I only wanted to protect you."

The Dryad screamed and thrashed, but Ilyan held on with one good arm.

Then, with a strength that came from deep in his soul, he pushed back the Dryad and as she stumbled, stabbed his dagger into her side.

The Dryad's scream filled the air.

Darkness surged from the wound like an escaped prisoner, crawling across Ilyan's arm. It entered his veins like fire, like ice, like rot. He gasped as the corruption spread, turning his skin gray and cracked.

But he did not stop. He stumped on the ground and vines shot out, encircling the Dryad and tying her to the ground.

With blood trailing from his mouth, Ilyan dabbed his finger in the blood of the Dryad, and turned to Maria.

"Forgive me, Maria. You must carry this now. You must... seal it. For as long as you can. Or our tribe is as good as dead."

"Wait! Father! What are you doing?!" Maria screamed.

He reached out and smeared the dark blood across her forehead, drawing runes that were just as old as the Green Tree itself, their meaning older than any spoken language. The ground trembled again.

"No— Please—" She sobbed, trying to move back, but it was as if whatever was on her forehead was very heavy. She couldn't move.

The runes blazed with dark light and the Dryad wailed.

So did Maria.

Her body lifted from the ground, suspended in the air by the energy of what was taking place. Her eyes rolled back as her mouth opened in a silent scream, matching the Dryad's cry.

The tree groaned again, and a violent pulse surged outward, flattening the grass, tearing bark from the trunk of the tree, and shattering the earth.

The energy grabbed the Dryad and little by little, it began to flake away. It's scream didn't stop for a long minute.

Then, silence.

Maria fell.

The Dryad was gone.

The corrupted deity had been sealed within Maria, imprisoned inside her soul. Maria twitched on the ground, shivering violently. Her skin was cold and clammy, her heartbeat erratic, even as her eyes were on her father. Pleading. Accusing.

Ilyan stood swaying.

The rot was everywhere now, crawling up his throat, blackening his teeth. His skin sagged and peeled. His veins were rivers of shadow.

He dropped to his knees.

"Maria... I'm... sorry..."

He reached for her hand.

And then the darkness consumed him.

His body collapsed inward, skin flaking to ash, bones cracking and collapsing.

His final scream, twisted with regret and agony, echoed into the trees, a terrible dirge that faded only after his body had crumbled into nothing.

Maria laid there, her hand twitching in the grass, her brother's voice already shouting from the distance as he raced to find her.

And far above, where once the Green Tree had stood proud and whole, dark petals rained down like falling ash.

Something had been broken.

And nothing would ever be the same again.