God's Tree-Chapter 95: The Path to the Black Vault

The Black Plains stretched endlessly before them—a wasteland of twisting magic, broken ruins, and creatures lurking in the shadows.

The Veiled Order had given them a name: The Black Vault.

A place where the answers to Argolaith's existence might be found.

But finding it was another matter entirely.

They had been traveling for hours, navigating the ever-shifting terrain.

The land itself seemed to breathe, changing beneath their feet—one moment solid, the next a phantom road leading nowhere.

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Kaelred sighed heavily, rubbing his temples. "I swear, if this place tries to lead us in circles one more time, I'm burning it all down."

Malakar chuckled. "Oh? I'd love to see that. Please, do try."

Kaelred shot him a glare. "You know what I mean."

Argolaith ignored them, his mind fixed on the Black Vault.

The Veiled Order had made it clear—he wasn't part of the Grand Design.

That meant something.

And he intended to find out what.

As they moved deeper into the plains, the atmosphere shifted.

The air thickened, heavy with an unnatural presence.

Malakar stopped abruptly, his skeletal fingers twitching. "We're not alone."

Kaelred's hand went to his sword. "What now?"

Argolaith narrowed his eyes, scanning the darkness. He could feel it too.

Something was watching them.

Then—movement.

Shadows twisted along the edge of their vision, shifting in and out of existence.

A low whisper echoed through the air, though no words could be understood.

Malakar smirked. "Well, this is new."

Kaelred grimaced. "What are they?"

Malakar tilted his head. "Curious spirits, perhaps. Or echoes of those lost to this land."

Argolaith gripped his sword tightly. "Are they hostile?"

Malakar shrugged. "We'll find out soon enough."

And then—they attacked.

The shadows lunged, their forms shifting into half-seen specters wielding weapons of pure darkness.

Their movements were unnatural, flickering like candlelight—one moment close, the next impossibly far.

Argolaith dodged the first strike, his instincts sharper than ever.

His sword flashed, cutting through the nearest figure. But instead of falling, it split into two.

Kaelred cursed. "Great. They multiply."

Malakar sighed. "I do hate tedious battles."

Raising his hand, he unleashed a wave of dark magic, forcing the creatures back—but not destroying them.

They reformed instantly.

Argolaith clenched his teeth. "Then we need another way."

Kaelred's eyes flickered to the ground. "They aren't touching the earth."

Argolaith followed his gaze. He was right.

The specters floated, never making contact with the soil beneath them.

Malakar chuckled. "Oh, now that is interesting."

Argolaith took a breath. "Then let's bring them down."

Activating one of the runes stored in his ring, he slammed his hand against the ground.

The air trembled.

Gravity increased.

The specters—caught off guard—were suddenly dragged downward.

Kaelred grinned. "Now we're talking."

With their movements restricted, the battle changed.

Argolaith and Kaelred struck fast, their blades cutting through the weakened forms.

Malakar's magic pinned the remaining specters, allowing them to finish them off.

And just like that—the battle was over.

The air stilled.

Kaelred exhaled. "This place is really starting to piss me off."

Malakar smirked. "We've only just begun."

Argolaith's gaze turned back toward the horizon.

The Black Plains stretched endlessly before them, but the landscape was changing.

The further Argolaith, Kaelred, and Malakar traveled, the more the world seemed to warp around them.

The ruins that had once been scattered were now forming clusters, as if leading them somewhere.

The very air felt denser, charged with a presence unseen.

The Black Vault was close.

Kaelred ran a hand through his hair, sighing. "Alright, tell me we're almost there."

Malakar smirked. "Depends. Define 'almost.'"

Kaelred shot him a glare. "I swear, one of these days—"

Argolaith raised a hand, silencing them. "Look ahead."

Just beyond the twisting stone formations, a structure loomed.

Massive. Ancient. Nearly untouched by time.

It wasn't a ruin—it was intact.

Kaelred whistled. "That… that looks like something important."

Malakar tilted his head. "It certainly does."

Argolaith stepped forward. "Let's see what we're dealing with."

The structure was carved from obsidian-like stone, its walls covered in shifting runes.

But as they approached, something moved.

Two massive statues flanking the entrance stirred, their stone eyes flickering to life.

Kaelred groaned. "Of course. Of course there are guardians."

Argolaith drew his sword. "We've come too far to turn back."

Malakar sighed. "Very well. Let's do this."

The guardians stepped forward, their movements slow but filled with purpose.

Then, without warning—they attacked.

The first guardian swung its arm, a colossal fist slamming toward Argolaith.

He barely dodged, rolling to the side as the impact shook the ground.

Kaelred countered with a strike to its leg, but the blade barely scratched its stone form.

"It's too strong!" Kaelred shouted.

Malakar chuckled. "Well, we'll just have to find a weakness."

Argolaith's eyes narrowed.

Then he saw it—runes.

Glowing along the guardian's chest and arms.

"Aim for the runes!" he called out.

Kaelred adjusted his stance. "Got it!"

Malakar raised a hand, his magic coiling toward the symbols.

The battle raged, each strike precise, each move calculated.

And slowly—the guardians began to falter.

With one final slash, Argolaith's blade cut through the last rune.

The guardian froze.

Then—it crumbled into dust.

Silence.

Kaelred panted. "That was… unpleasant."

Malakar dusted himself off. "But necessary."

Argolaith stepped toward the now unsealed entrance.

Beyond it—the Black Vault awaited.

And with it, the answers he had been searching for.

The entrance to the Black Vault yawned before them, a massive archway of obsidian stone humming with ancient power.

Beyond it lay darkness—thick, tangible, unnatural.

Argolaith, Kaelred, and Malakar exchanged glances.

They had fought their way here. Unraveled mysteries buried in the past.

And now, they stood on the threshold of something far older than the world they knew.

Argolaith took the first step.

The air shifted instantly—as though the very space around him had changed.

It wasn't just dark inside the Vault.

It was empty.

Not a lack of light, but a lack of existence.

Kaelred and Malakar followed, and as soon as they crossed the threshold—the entrance behind them vanished.

Kaelred cursed. "Of course. No turning back."

Malakar chuckled. "Did you expect anything else?"

Argolaith pressed forward, his steps echoing unnaturally loud in the silence.

The walls around them shifted, revealing massive carvings, each depicting something incomprehensible.

Figures of impossible shapes. Creatures that did not belong to Morgoth. Rulers who had no connection to the Grand Design.

Argolaith frowned. "These… aren't from our world."

Malakar ran a skeletal hand over the engravings. "No. They're from the Greater Realm."

Kaelred's breath caught. "Wait. Are you saying—"

Malakar nodded, his eyes glinting. "The beings of the Greater Realm are not part of the Grand Design."

Argolaith's pulse quickened.

They moved deeper into the Vault, following the story written in the stone.

The carvings depicted Morgoth's creation—woven by the Grand Design, every soul, every path meticulously crafted.

Except for some.

There were those who stood outside it.

Not bound. Not written. Anomalies.

And among them—figures eerily similar to Argolaith.

Kaelred exhaled. "This… this is proof."

Argolaith stared at the carvings, heart pounding. "Then what am I?"

Malakar's voice was unusually solemn. "You are like them."

Kaelred swallowed. "A being outside of fate. Outside the Grand Design."

The realization settled over them—a weight heavy with implications.

Argolaith wasn't just unusual.

He wasn't supposed to exist.

And yet, here he was.

As they reached the center of the Vault, a light ignited.

Not a flame.

Not magic.

Something beyond their understanding.

A voice—ancient and distant—filled the space.

"You have come seeking answers."

The words weren't spoken aloud—they resonated in their minds.

"You walk outside the Grand Design. And so, you must choose your path."

Argolaith's fists clenched. "Why am I outside of it?"

The voice was silent for a long moment.

Then, it answered.

"Because something greater awaits you."