The rainforest's weather was always unpredictable. One moment, the sun blazed overhead; the next, rain poured down in torrents. Such fickle weather made the Human Race soldiers stationed there miserable.
They preferred the open expanses of human territory, where the weather followed clear patterns.
But now they had to advance. The order came from the highest military command, from within the Triangle Council.
They had to install the required Magic Stones beneath the rainforest canopy before dusk. Along the way, they had to watch out for passing animals and the trees beside them that possessed souls.
Treefolk in particular looked like ordinary trees, but they had souls.
This race had been close to the Elves since ancient times, and almost all its members had taken root in the rainforest.
They knew the Elves well. The squad had a Psychic Mage who could detect these unusual living beings. There were two ahead, both roughly a hundred years old judging by their soul fluctuations.
That was very young for Treefolk. Many only awakened their intelligence at sixty or seventy, and turning their roots into feet took another thirty or forty years.
They could be considered the longest-lived species in the world. Some elderly members could live for thousands of years, far longer than Great Dragons.
At a little over a hundred, they could barely pull their roots out of the ground. They were vulnerable.
The wind mage approached, and wind blades silently slashed into the trunks. The two old trees were severed cleanly at the waist. The earth mage cast a mild Ground Tremor Spell, making the ground lift their roots, while the spatial mage following behind gathered up the remains.
They were experts at dealing with Treefolk like these. After clearing the obstacles, they continued forward, then stopped beneath a tree