While the closed beta players' party explored the Black Forest, Dragonborn Village at the other end of the barony received a group of uninvited visitors.
Several knights arrived near the gates of Dragonborn Village. Their swollen skin had a bark-like texture, and bodies far sturdier than those of ordinary people were hidden beneath dark green robes.
As for the mounts beneath them, they displayed traits of several odd-toed ungulates at once. Even the bits in their mouths seemed to be woven from some kind of shade-dried vine, but in this chaotic world, calling them "horses" seemed perfectly reasonable.
Now these knights approached Dragonborn Village menacingly, as though they meant to raze it.
By a distant stream, a dozen or so people with saplings growing out of their bodies watched with schadenfreude.
The outermost perimeter of Dragonborn Village was a ring of rammed-earth walls well over a person's height. A dry ditch had also been dug outside them, bringing the difference in elevation to roughly three meters.
The village guards had spotted the group long ago. By the time the knights reached the foot of the rammed-earth wall, the gates of Dragonborn Village were firmly shut. On the wall above the gates, a muscular, bare-chested man looked down at them.
"Tree Worship Church, what are you here for?"
His tone was contemptuous, without a trace of courtesy.
But the knight leading the group paid it no mind. He merely raised his head and called back:
"I received a report from one of our faithful that an apostate visited your village three days ago. Is that true? If so, our previous peace agreement will be null and void."
His tone was indifferent, yet he sounded as though he were reading a declaration of war.
But to certain villagers who called themselves dragonborn, that declaration was no different from toilet paper:
"What a joke. Do apostates from your Tree Worship Church have the word written on their faces? Have tree roots sucked out your brains? I'm warning you one last time: go back where you came from. We'll each live our own lives and stay out of each other's business."
The leader of the Tree Worship Church showed no anger at the mockery. He looked at the bare-chested man above and said earnestly:
"The patterns on the World Tree record everything that has ever happened. If you let us inside to investigate, the matter will naturally be settled. If you refuse, perhaps you really do have something to hide. It's not that we don't trust you, but we've come all this way to investigate. We need something to report when we return, don't we?"
The expression of the man on the rammed-earth wall changed slightly. It was not that he feared the other man, nor that he thought his words made sense. He simply felt he had been caught in some kind of impasse.
This illiterate villager from Dragonborn Village naturally had no understanding of a trap that forced someone to prove their own innocence, while below him, the corners of the Tree Worship Church leader's mouth curled slightly beneath his hood.
These freaks before him had merely received a tiny bit of a dragon's blessing. That wild dragon might have been dead for decades. If not for the agreement, this village would have become a logging plantation for the Tree Worship Church long ago.
And this was his tried-and-true rhetoric, the most effective rhetoric for dealing with ignorant fools who had strength but no brains and had yet to receive the World Tree's blessing.
The first step was to slap a major accusation on them and make a demand they could not possibly accept, then give ground little by little until he achieved his goal.
In the process, the other party believed they had saved face, while he gained the substance. Both sides could be said to have gotten what they wanted.
Sure enough, after a few seconds of thought, the man on the rammed-earth wall called out again:
"Letting all of you in is absolutely out of the question, but... I can let you in alone. Do you have the guts, though?"
He took the bait!
That was exactly the result the Tree Worship Church leader wanted. In those few seconds, the other man had clearly realized two things: first, Dragonborn Village was not in the right in this matter, and second, he would lose face if this continued.
Since that apostate meant nothing to Dragonborn Village anyway, he might as well let the other man in to investigate. He just could not give in outright.
"Why wouldn't I?"
The leader of the Tree Worship Church responded coldly, already laughing inwardly. Everything was going so smoothly.
"Hahahahaha!"
The man on the rammed-earth wall burst out laughing. Accompanying his roar-like laughter, the pointed parts on either side of his head finally pierced his skin. Beneath the boiling blood were two malformed dragon horns, one long and one short.
At the same time, the muscles across his body began to swell. Red scales seemed to be growing beneath his skin, and his already ragged trousers split completely as a thick, ugly tail extended from behind him.
The man pointed at the visitor below with fingers that had already mutated into claws:
"Come on, then. I'll give you a proper tour of our village."
"Your Excellency, you mustn't..."
A rider behind the man advanced two paces, intending to offer a few quiet words of caution, only to be glared back by the middle-aged man. He sheepishly returned to the mounted group behind him.
The middle-aged man he had addressed as bishop gently tugged on the vine-woven bit, urging his mount slowly forward before finally dismounting at the gates of Dragonborn Village.
The metal-clad solid wooden gates slowly opened. The bare-chested, Dragon Transformation man, nearly three meters tall, stood in the middle of the road and smilingly invited the bishop of the Tree Worship Church inside.
The bishop left his horse outside the village, then walked unhurriedly beside the middle-aged man. Behind him, the gates closed again, cutting him off from the other Tree Worship Church knights, while dozens of hostile-looking villagers followed, staring fixedly at him.
"How do you plan to investigate?"
The Dragon Transformation man asked,
"Let's get this clear first. You may question the villagers, but you may not threaten them or inflict any punishment. I'll be watching you the entire time."
"Don't tell me you're hoping I'll make a move so you can kill me here?"
The bishop suddenly countered.
"If you agree to fight me, we can skip all those earlier steps."
The Dragon Transformation man showed no embarrassment at being seen through. Instead, he became even more blunt.
The bishop shook his head:
"Next time. I have more pressing matters."
As they spoke, the two had reached the center of the village. Some edible plants grew here, cultivated by the villagers over generations, and they looked particularly lush.
But they also knew these days would not last forever. In this world that had lost its boundaries, it would only take a few generations before these plants grew human fingers or dragon scales...
Carefully avoiding the low-growing crops, the bishop approached a tree that resembled a fruit tree and began murmuring as he gazed at its trunk.
A few seconds later, the bishop's right hand emerged from beneath his dark green robe. The Dragon Transformation man saw that it had now turned entirely into dead branches, looking eminently suitable for kindling.
The bishop pressed his mutated right hand against the fruit tree and closed his eyes tightly, seemingly sensing something.
At that moment, silhouette-like images flashed through his mind, and he soon caught what he wanted.
The bishop opened his eyes and looked at the Dragon Transformation middle-aged man, a smile spreading across his lips beneath his hood:
"Thank you for your cooperation. The apostate's trail has revealed itself."