OBS Chapter 667 The Hall of the Spirit Tree
Chapter 667 The Hall of the Spirit Tree
Two figures moved one after the other in the darkness. The skeleton knight walked in front, his pale bones gleaming coldly in the dim night light. His warhorse was also emaciated, each step accompanied by the soft creaking of bones grinding together, yet it was unusually steady.
John followed behind, his figure appearing somewhat thin in the darkness.
After walking for an unknown amount of time, a dark outline finally appeared ahead, with the branches of trees intertwined like countless withered hands reaching towards the sky.
The skeleton knight stopped, and his warhorse pawed restlessly.
"The Spirit Tree Pavilion is located in this forest, and Flora usually doesn't leave here."
No sooner had he finished speaking than John suddenly stepped forward and grabbed the skeleton knight's reins.
"Wait a moment, I need to get something. Please wait here for a moment."
After saying that, he turned and walked into a deeper darkness in the distance without waiting for the skeleton knight's response.
There were some low-rise building outlines that could be vaguely seen; it was a town, now completely shrouded in night, without a single light, like an abandoned dead city.
The town streets were deserted, with only John's footsteps echoing in the empty alleyways.
He hurried through the quiet streets, finally stopping in front of a church. The church looked somewhat old, with mottled walls, yet it exuded a solemn atmosphere in the deep night.
The church was faintly lit by tiny lights, like dying fireflies flickering in the darkness.
John walked to the door and raised a hand.
The moment his fingertips touched the cold door panel, a soft light spread from his palm, flowing down the door panel to the lock.
The light enveloped the lock tightly, and the rusty iron lock instantly lost its original hardness, like ice melting in warm water, and with a soft, crisp sound, it popped open on its own.
John pushed open the door, the hinges creaking softly, a sound that seemed particularly jarring in the quiet night.
He stepped inside. The church was empty and dimly lit, with only a few slivers of light coming from the front.
He followed the light and walked quickly to the pulpit at the end of the church. The first thing that caught his eye was a statue of St. John, bathed in soft white light. The statue's face was serene, as if it were looking down upon all things in the world.
Below the statue, three tiny figures of light, no bigger than infants, were gathered together, radiating a faint halo that illuminated a small area beneath their feet.
"What are you doing?"
John's soft voice broke the silence in the church.
The three little light figures were startled by the sound, and almost dropped the carbon rods in their hands.
They turned around and saw it was John. They dropped what they were holding and scurried over, jumping and skipping around him, the aura emanating from him swaying slightly with their movements.
John bent down and picked up the notebook they had placed aside. He opened it and saw that it was filled with all sorts of writing, making it look like they were doing homework.
He gently touched the top of one of the little light figures' heads with his finger, and the little light figure immediately rubbed against his finger comfortably.
"I need to take one of you away for one night. Who wants to come with me?"
As soon as John finished speaking, a little luminous figure pounced on him, its tiny hands clinging tightly to his clothes, its body twisting and turning as if afraid he would change his mind.
"Okay, then it's you."
John smiled, bent down, picked up the little luminous figure, and gently held it under his arm.
Little Guang excitedly bounced around in his arms, but very sensibly kept quiet.
John turned and left the church, crossing the empty streets once more, and returned to the edge of the forest.
The skeleton knight remained standing still, his warhorse with its head bowed.
When John returned, his empty eye sockets turned to the little light man in his arms, his skeletal face devoid of any expression.
"Why are you carrying it?"
He had seen this creature before at St. John's Cathedral, but he thought they were just ordinary ghost creatures and didn't understand why John would bring one along.
"You'll know then."
John responded calmly, his tone carrying a hint of mystery.
The two set off again, with the Skeleton Knight in front and John behind. The little light creature tucked under his arm curiously peered out, surveying the surrounding darkness.
The forest was even darker than outside; the tree branches blocked out the only glimmer of light, making it difficult to see the path ahead. They moved through the woods, their steps light, avoiding the fallen leaves and twigs to avoid making a sound.
After walking for an unknown amount of time, an exceptionally tall tree appeared ahead, its trunk so thick that it would take several people to encircle it. A peculiar mark was carved on the trunk, resembling some kind of ancient rune, faintly glowing in the darkness.
Without pausing, the skeleton knight rode his horse straight toward the large tree. Just as the horse's hooves were about to strike the tree trunk, something strange happened.
The figures of the warhorse and the skeleton knight passed right through the tree trunk, as if the hard wood were just a phantom.
John followed closely behind, and the moment his body touched the tree trunk, he felt a strange force envelop him, and the scene before him instantly distorted, as if he had been thrown into a spinning vortex.
He instinctively closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, he found that everything around him had changed.
Although they were still in the forest, it was no longer night, but bright daytime.
Sunlight filters through the dense foliage, casting dappled shadows, and the air is filled with the fresh scent of grass and trees.
The surrounding trees were taller than before, their foliage so lush it almost blocked out the sky.
In the clearing in the center of the forest, a huge treehouse stands out. The entire building is made of an incredibly thick tree, with intertwined branches forming the framework of the house, leaves covering the roof, and vines entwining the walls, as if it has been integrated into the entire forest.
"This world is divided into three realms: the present world, the underworld, and the original world, which can also be called the abyss."
The Skeleton Knight's voice rang out from the side.
"The shallow layer of the Netherworld is also known as the boundary, which is filled with various souls that have not yet dissipated, as well as some small Netherworld creatures. Flora's Spirit Tree Pavilion is located here. The flow of time in the Netherworld is different from that in the mortal world; it is much slower here, which is why Flora has been able to live for thousands of years."
John nodded, about to speak, when suddenly his foot stepped on something hard.
He looked down and saw a huge stone statue lying quietly on the grass. The statue was tall and rounded, looking like a giant toy. Its hands were placed at its sides and its face was covered with various runes.
“This is Graeme.”
The skeleton knight noticed his gaze and explained.
"Flora created them for housework and guarding. They should be alerted immediately if outsiders break in, but they are not moving at all. It seems that Flora knew we were coming all along."
As soon as he finished speaking, the door of the treehouse in front of him slowly opened.
The door was also carved from a tree trunk, with exquisite patterns engraved on it.
A little witch in a purple robe emerged from inside, her green hair gleaming in the sunlight.
A tiny pink-haired fairy was perched on her shoulder, curiously peeking out.
Is Flora there?
The skeleton knight asked a question, and his warhorse neighed softly.
"My master is upstairs."
The little witch's voice was clear and crisp. Her gaze fell on John with a hint of curiosity, then she turned to look at the skeleton knight.
Before the skeleton knight could introduce him, John had already extended his hand with a gentle smile on his face.
“My name is Johann Hohenzollern. If I’m not mistaken, you must be Shrek, and the one on your shoulder must be Ballera.”
"Eh?"
Shcherky was clearly taken aback, his eyes widening in surprise, obviously not expecting the other person to recognize him.
The skeleton knight, however, remained remarkably calm, seemingly already accustomed to John's various eccentricities.
The ballerina on Scherki's shoulder was even more exaggerated. With her big eyes wide open, she immediately flew off her shoulder, looking around John from left to right, her little wings flapping rapidly, creating a gentle breeze.
"Sherky, are there male wizards in this world?"
Ballera's voice was high-pitched and full of doubt.
"I haven't seen it either."
Shcherky responded honestly, but his heart was filled with curiosity.
Since the other party knows your and Balera's names, either the Skeleton Knight told them, or they possess prophetic magic.
"Enough said, please come in, my master is waiting."
Shcherky quickly came to her senses and stepped aside to make way for him.
The skeleton knight dismounted, handed the reins to Scherki, and then followed John into the Hall of the Spirit Tree.
The interior of the treehouse is a hidden gem, with glowing fungi adorning the walls and illuminating the entire space, while a faint floral fragrance permeates the air.
They climbed up a staircase woven from vines and arrived at the second floor.
The light on the second floor was softer. A hollowed-out window opened on one wall, and the window was decorated with lush green branches. Sunlight filtered through the hollowed-out patterns and cast beautiful shadows on the floor.
A rattan chair sat by the window, and an old woman sat in it. Her face looked somewhat haggard, but she still had a gentle smile on her face, and she looked calmly at John and the skeleton knight.