Having a guardian make demands wasn’t new. The same had happened in each of the other world swords Dallion had visited. However, this time, something felt off.

“What do you want?” Dallion asked. “I didn’t see any cracklings in the realm.”

“Cracklings.” The dryad let out a sad laugh. “The realm doesn’t allow for cracklings, thanks to our first ruler.”

Dallion glanced at Eury. Judging by the movement of her snakes, she seemed as surprised as he was.

Is it possible? Dallion asked.

That’s difficult to say, dear boy, Nil replied. In theory, it should be. There are indestructible items, after all. However, the sword clearly isn’t one of them. In theory, it should be possible. Scholars have pondered on the topic for centuries. Some attempts were even made, but outside of the Order, nothing seems to have worked.

“Of course, he never foresaw what it would lead to,” the guardian continued. “The sad thing is that neither did we.”

He made a backward wave with his hand. On cue, the gathered dryads turned around, heading back into the temple. When only the guardian was left, the fence of roots went back into the ground, as if it had never existed.

“The sword king knew that we’d be stuck in this realm for a very long time. He believed that cracklings and rustlings would be our greatest problem—something that eventually we wouldn’t be able to overcome. He sought advice from the many otherworlders here. After a while a solution was reached, or what was believed to be the solution: if the realm itself drained the strength of the cracklings, there would be no need for dryads to constantly roam the realm in constant search of abominations. Every single plant was transformed so as to sap the strength of any starspawn. It wasn’t meant to be a quick process, but it ensured that anything that appeared would be unable to become a threat.”

“That’s why this realm is so pristine,” Dallion noted. “You’ve never seen a crackling.”

It was a good thing that Nox remained safely away in Dallion’s realm. Even as Dallion’s familiar, there was no telling how the flora would have affected him.

“There have been a few now and again. Since they were harmless, people took them in as pets. Very vicious, untrainable pets, but you know how it is. As long as something is rare, those with means try to acquire it merely because they could.”

“What went wrong?” Euryale asked the question.

“That’s the whole point. Nothing went wrong. The plants did exactly what they were supposed to do. However, what is a non-awakened but someone being a step away from a starspawn? Slowly, it turned out that the plants were draining the power of everything that wasn’t awakened.”

“That’s not what the scrolls in the other city said,” Dallion noted.

“Birchdale?” The guardian let out a snort of disapproval. “History can be rewritten, especially when people don’t see a way out. Do you know what the city’s currently called? Not that there are enough people to remember even that.”

Dallion shook his head.

“Starlight. I’d find the irony amusing if things weren’t so desperate.”

For several seconds Dallion stood frozen, his mind trying to catch up with what he had heard. The original plague had never been intended to separate the weak from the strong. It wasn’t even a plague, but an attempt to ensure the survival of the realm’s inhabitants up to the point that they could return to the real world once more. Given the state of the other two swords, they had done remarkably better. Unfortunately, not well enough.

“Wasn’t there a way to fix the damage?” Dallion asked.

“There were attempts. It had taken centuries for the entire flora to acquire their present qualities. Once it was everywhere, though, reverting it proved impossible—there were no normal plants left. And even if there were, it wouldn’t have mattered much. It was the animals that brought on the crises, well before the dryads started being affected. You see, the same principle applied to them. Within one generation, only awakened creatures remained. Of course, that wasn’t a problem. Not directly, in any event. People could eat plants all they wanted.”

“And that made things even worse.”

Dallion could already imagine it—millions of people eating poison without even knowing it. They probably hadn’t even made the link at first. With a vast part of the initial population being awakened and otherworlders, the effects were not as visible and chalked down to life in a realm. However, as the awakened decreased with each next generation, things must have gradually gone worse and worse, until a tipping point was reached. It was understandable why everyone would turn to the Star for help at that point.

“The tower cities were the final attempt. A terrible way to live, but at least in which dryads got to survive to an old age. The awakened would roam the land and bring food—animal meat—for the non-awakened. Contact was limited.”

“One group provided food and protection, so that the other group could breed awakened,” Euryale said.

“That about sums it up.”

“Protection from what?” the gorgon asked.

The guardian didn’t answer right away. Instead, he took a step forward.

“You can get closer,” he shouted at Dark, seeming to ignore Eury’s question. “As long as you don’t try and enter the temple, I won’t stop you from flying about.”

In typical Dark fashion, the dragon folded its wings, indicating that it had no intention of flying at all.

“That’s why you don’t want us to,” Dallion said. “You’re afraid that we might cause the dryads there to get sick.”

“Yes, but not in the way you think. I still have enough control of my domain to purge all pollen and food you bring with you. However, seeing you, talking to you, would spark curiosity. And once there’s curiosity, there’s nothing I can do to keep them safe.”

“Protection from what?” Euryale repeated, taking a step forward.

“Isn’t it obvious?” The guardian smirked. “From me. In their eyes, I’m Moon spawn responsible for all the evil that has befallen this world. They are helpless without me, and yet they also hate me.”

“The last one?” Dallion asked. “I thought that there were two?”

“And who told you that?”

The realization hit Dallion like a thunderbolt. Just because he hadn’t sensed any lies in the previous guardian didn’t mean that he had heard the truth. When it came to emotions, the only thing the music skill showed were the things going through a person at that precise moment. The guardian Dallion and Eury had spoken to before had been convinced of everything he was saying. He had further presented it in such a convenient fashion that neither of the pair had seen the obvious: they had not once spoken to a guardian. Rather, they had only spoken with an echo.

“You’re the only guardian,” Dallion said.

“Bravo. Yes, I’m all that’s left. And that is why you’ll find no other temples in the realm either. One temple, one guardian, cast out at the ends of the world with a small consolation prize: as many dryads as I can fit inside.”

Trees and bushes rose up from the ground, forming a small forest. Realistically, it was far from a forest, just enough placed around Dallion and Eury to create the illusion of one. Even so, they illustrated the point perfectly. As long as the dryads remained in the temple, the guardian could create the illusion of many things. Having outsiders come, though, would break the illusion.

“It’s just another prison,” the gorgon noted.

“Maybe, but it doesn’t feel like one. You’ve been to the tower cities. You know what it’s like there. As in the real world, here things are only good or bad in comparison. The prison I offer is much better than the alternative, to the point that it’s no longer a prison. After all, isn’t the entire realm a prison as well?”

Point taken, Dallion thought.

“So, what do you want?” he asked again. “What do you really want? For us to help you create plants that don’t kill non-awakened?”

“No one can create that. All I want you to do is help make me stronger.”

Any idea what he’s talking about? Dallion asked.

In this case, not in the least. Keep in mind, dear boy, that he’s quite a bit older than me. There are technologies and practices that vastly exceed my knowledge of—

He wants you to fight him, Vihrogon interrupted. He wants you and Eury to fight him and win.

That made sense. In fact, that made a lot of sense, considering the situation. If they were to defeat all the guardians in the realm, the item would improve. Thinking back, Dallion tried to remember the blue rectangle that had appeared once he and Eury had been cast into the sword realm. At the time, he hadn’t paid too much attention, but he was almost certain that the item’s destiny wasn’t sealed. If the dryad was to be believed, and he really represented the last guardian, defeating him would improve the item, and through that the entire world. Dallion had done the same back in Neorsal, when he had defeated the overseer.

“I see you’re realizing what I’m saying.” The guardian nodded. “So, do we have an agreement?”

“What will happen with the echo near the city of towers?”

“The echo is a memory of what I was before the mage entered the realm. It has no place in the new world.”

Easy for you to say, you won’t be the one dying, Dallion thought. Despite that, he had to agree.

“I’ve one question, though. When the mage came here, he found a way to kill the other guardians. Why did he spare you?”

“He didn’t have a choice. Magic has a way of bending the rules, but it can’t break them. A realm can have multiple guardians, as you’ve seen. However, it cannot have less than one. He could easily have destroyed me, but then, the realm would collapse and he’d be left with nothing. It would have been even easier for him to kill me, but that would come with its own set of complications. So, he made me an offer: don’t meddle with the realm or his work and I get to protect as many of the remaining dryads as I could. He made it very clear that he didn’t need any of them, he just needed me and my cooperation.”

Specks of pain appeared throughout the guardian. Even with his effort, he couldn’t keep all the emotions from leaking out. By all accounts, the mage must have made him make a Moon vow not to meddle, though even if he hadn’t, there wasn’t much he could do.

“Can’t you just surrender?” Dallion asked.

“Not this time. The battle must be real and visible for all to see. The fiercer the fight, the stronger I’ll become after I improve.”

There was a logic to that. Dallion was just about to give his answer, when he felt Eury’s hand on his shoulder. The snakes on her head stirred back and forth for an instant, letting him know that she didn’t approve. The guardian, apparently caught on to that as well, for he turned her direction.

“You’re hesitant?” he asked. “It’s the only way for you to leave the realm.”

“How strong are you?” she asked.

“Does it matter?”

“I think we should be able to take him on,” Dallion interjected.

“Do you? All previous world guardians we thought were severely weakened because their realm was overrun by cracklings. Not to mention that he isn’t just some guardian, he’s all nine of them in one. Fighting him would be like fighting a noble. I’m not sure either of us is ready for that. That’s why I need to know how strong you currently are.”

Suddenly, the guardian changed form. The small figure grew to a muscular dryad, seven feet tall, wearing a full set of ebony armor. All traces of feebleness cast away like a snake shedding its skin. Even after everything Dallion had been so far, he couldn’t help but feel slightly intimidated.

“I’m using some of my strength to maintain the temple,” he said, an aura of strength emanating from him. “But you are right. I am a full noble, and thanks to the plague of the realm, there hasn’t been anything to drain a significant part of my strength.” A wooden halberd rose up from the ground before him. “I’m eighty-three. That's roughly the level one has to be to become a world guardian. Now that you know, will you do as I asked?”