Death Guns In Another World

A colossal flaming serpent, a creature so majestic it could easily be mistaken for a dragon, coiled menacingly around the ancient World Tree. Its scales shimmered in vibrant hues of orange and red, flickering like molten lava, and its length seemed endless as it wrapped around the mighty trunk. Each undulation of its body radiated heat, sending waves of warmth rippling through the air, and its eyes glowed with an eerie, malevolent intelligence.

The once-bountiful green landscape lay desolate, littered with the bodies of fallen elves. The vibrant flora, once a testament to nature’s beauty, was now stained with the remnants of battle. Above, the sky was a deceptive shade of blue, marred by dark fissures that threatened to shatter like glass, casting ominous shadows over the land.

Elven warriors, desperate to protect their sacred tree, unleashed a volley of white arrows and summoned powerful spirits to aid them. Yet, the flaming serpent seemed unfazed, its attention solely fixed on the World Tree as it sank its crimson fangs into the bark, unleashing a torrent of fire.

Whaaam!

The protective wall of mana surrounding the World Tree shattered into fragments, and crimson flames erupted from the trunk’s right side, consuming the ancient wood with a fierce hunger. The elves, filled with despair, felt the weight of their impending doom settle heavily upon them.

Amidst the chaos, a high elf, strikingly similar in appearance to Typhania, stepped forward. His features were weary, evidence of prior battles etched into his expression, but his eyes burned with an unyielding ferocity. He notched an arrow, its tip gleaming with a powerful enchantment, and released it like a bolt of lightning. The arrow found its mark, piercing the serpent’s mouth and forcing it to recoil from the World Tree for the first time.

Yet, the damage had already been done. The lingering flames continued to ravage the tree both inside and out, and the high elf felt an urgent need to extinguish the fire before it was too late. Just as he began to approach the tree, a red-haired apostle with spiraled horns materialized from a rift in the air, blocking his path.

The apostle, a member of the Chaos Organization, unleashed a torrent of crimson flames that matched the ferocity of the serpent itself. The high elf furrowed his brow and drew another arrow, aiming it at the apostle. But as he released it, the arrow melted into nothingness in the face of the apostle’s flame, unable to penetrate the fiery barrier.

More men emerged from the rift, each clad in dark attire and ready to assist their comrade. They launched an assault on the elves, creating chaos and confusion among the defenders while the flaming serpent reasserted itself. It coiled tightly around the World Tree once more, sinking its fangs deep into the bark, igniting the trunk with even more ferocity, as if the flames were being fueled by the very essence of the tree.

With each passing moment, the high elf felt his strength waning. He had already fought valiantly, and the impatience fueled by the loss of his kin pushed him to act recklessly. It was a single moment of miscalculation that proved disastrous. The high elf was struck, a dark hole erupting in his stomach as he collapsed to the ground.

The red-haired apostle looked down at him with a mocking smile, then advanced toward the World Tree, his subordinates fanning out and unleashing flames that scorched the earth in all directions, intent on incinerating everything in their path.

Crack!

As the once-vibrant land transformed into a nightmarish scene of fire and destruction, the dark sky above split open, raining down flames that dazzled like the sun. The golden flames surged forth, accompanied by a majestic wind that swept away the crimson inferno engulfing the land and the apostles attacking the elves.

Then, from the chaotic scene, a figure clad in black descended onto the scarred earth. Alexander had arrived.

Without uttering a word, he pointed Silveria, his longsword, directly at the red-haired apostle. The latter’s confident demeanor faltered, his expression shifting to one of disbelief and anger.

The apostle thrust his flame-covered hand forward, intent on replicating the brutal attack he had unleashed on the high elf. But this time, his assault was on a different scale. Ten fireballs erupted into the air, hurtling down toward Alexander like meteorites.

Yet, Alexander didn’t even cast a glance at the descending fireballs. His focus remained solely on the apostle. With a subtle motion, he released the grip on his sword.

Whaaam!

As Silveria left his hand, it transformed into a dark crimson ray, piercing through the chaos to strike directly at the heart of the apostle. The impact obliterated the red-haired figure, the force of the blow severing the serpent’s head before it plunged into the very core of the World Tree.

The apostle stared down at the gaping hole in his chest, disbelief etched across his features, before collapsing to the ground. The flaming snake writhed in agony, its headless form disintegrating into ash and dust.

“I’m sorry for being late. It’s alright now,”

Alex murmured, a quiet apology to the fallen elves as he approached the World Tree.

He had come just in time to witness the end of the chaos, determined to ensure that the beauty and life of the World Tree would endure, even amidst the ashes of despair.

After ensuring the immediate threat had been neutralized, Alex approached the charred remains of the World Tree, its once-proud trunk now marred by the flames. The air around it was thick with the acrid scent of smoke, and the once-vibrant foliage hung limply, as if mourning the devastation it had endured. He knelt before the tree, his heart heavy with the weight of its suffering.

From within his cloak, he retrieved a small vial filled with a shimmering liquid—a precious substance gifted to him by Typhania, infused with her powerful magic and the essence of life itself. It glowed softly, a beacon of hope in the midst of despair. He had saved it for a moment like this, knowing the World Tree was not just a source of strength for the elves, but a symbol of life and unity for all of nature.

With a steady hand, Alex uncorked the vial and poured the luminous liquid over the scorched bark. As it flowed down the trunk, a gentle warmth emanated from the tree, pulsating like a heartbeat. The liquid seeped into the wood, and for a moment, nothing happened. But then, a soft glow began to spread from the point of contact, radiating outward like the dawn breaking after a long night.

The flames that had scorched the tree’s surface started to flicker and fade, replaced by a rich green hue that slowly reemerged. Leaves began to sprout, delicate and fresh, reclaiming their place among the branches. Flowers blossomed in vibrant colors, and the aura of the World Tree shifted from one of despair to a fragile, yet undeniable, vitality.

As the barrier surrounding the World Tree flickered back to life, Alex observed the shimmering shield forming around it. It was weaker than before, the remnants of the destructive flames still evident in the way the barrier flickered and pulsed. He knew it would take time for it to regain its former strength, but it was a start—a vital first step in the slow process of healing.

Satisfied that he had done what he could for the World Tree, Alex rose to his feet, his resolve unwavering. He cast one last glance at the revitalized tree, a symbol of hope for the elves and the countless lives it supported. But the war was far from over, and there were other battlefields in desperate need of his presence.

Visit and read more novel to help us update chapter quickly. Thank you so much!