The fire danced along the trail of gasoline, its flickering flames casting an eerie glow in the twilight. It slithered through the village like a malevolent serpent, consuming everything in its path.
The crackling of burning wood and the acrid smell of smoke filled the air, a grim testament to the horrors unfolding.
Asher watched from his hiding spot, his heart pounding in his chest. He had hoped the blaze would serve as a beacon of hope, a way to draw the tree's attention and weaken its hold.
But as the flames crept closer to the center of the village, the tree's monstrous roots began to writhe and thicken, pulsing with an unnatural energy. The creature was aware—and it was fighting back.
Taking a deep breath, Asher tightened his grip on the dagger. The heat grew intense as the fire reached the base of the twisted tree.
The villagers, now puppets under the tree's control, let out an unearthly screech that reverberated through the ground. The cocoons of roots surrounding the trunk quivered in response. This was his chance.
He dashed out of hiding, sprinting through the flaming chaos. Sparks flew around him, igniting nearby houses as the fire spread.
The villagers, still under the tree's control, rushed toward the flames, their movements jerky and unnatural as they tried to extinguish the fire with their own bodies.
*The plan is working. The path is clear.* Asher allowed himself a small smile, but it was short-lived. The tree's branches twisted and expanded, growing endlessly as if defying nature itself. A pulsing blue light emanated from its core, creating a radiant yet demonic scene.
Asher knew he could reach William in 20 seconds if he sprinted. If things went wrong, he'd use *Static* on the tree. But he wasn't confident he could stop something so massive for more than a few seconds. The strain would drain his energy reserves completely.
The tree, sensing Asher's presence, released the villagers hanging from its branches. They dropped to the ground, their movements sluggish but determined as they turned toward him. Asher had anticipated this.
The tree was now juggling multiple tasks—controlling the villagers, fighting the fire, and dealing with him. It was a three-way struggle, and Asher intended to exploit it.
The puppets, connected to the tree by roots embedded in their spines, numbered no more than twelve. Their movements were slow and clumsy, giving Asher an opening. The distance between him and the tree was now less than eight meters.
As the first villager lunged at him, Asher activated *Static.* The puppet froze mid-step, and Asher swiftly moved behind it, severing the root with a precise cut of his dagger.
Another villager attacked from the left, but Asher dodged and sliced its root, sending it crumpling to the ground.
The crackling of dry leaves behind him signaled another attack. Asher spun around, using *Static* to freeze the villager momentarily before cutting its root.
His movements were quick and calculated, but the strain of using his ability was taking its toll. His eyes grew bloodshot, and his breathing became ragged.
"Seven more to go," Asher whispered hoarsely, his voice barely audible over the crackling flames. The tree's blue light pulsed brighter, and the heat of the fire pressed closer.
Suddenly, six of the villagers retreated, leaving only one to face him. Asher's heart sank. The tree was adapting—focusing its control on a single puppet to make it faster, stronger, and more dangerous.
"This damn tree is getting smarter," Asher muttered, his breathing uneven. "It's concentrating its energy on one puppet instead of spreading itself thin."
The remaining villager moved with alarming speed, its movements almost fluid compared to the others. Asher had to focus all his energy to keep *Static* active, freezing the puppet for brief moments to gain the upper hand.
He lunged forward, aiming the dagger at the villager's neck. But the puppet didn't dodge or defend itself. Instead, it let the blade pierce its flesh, the sickening sound of metal meeting skin making Asher's stomach churn. His eyes widened in shock, his momentum faltering.
The villager seized the opportunity, delivering a brutal punch to Asher's face. The impact sent him sprawling to the ground, the dagger slipping from his grasp. Pain surged through his nose, and the metallic taste of blood filled his mouth.
His mind clouded, thoughts slipping away like sand through his fingers. The world blurred around him, but the pain served as a stark reminder of the stakes. He couldn't afford to hesitate.
Asher's eyes locked onto the dagger lying a few feet away, its blade glinting in the firelight. He scrambled to his feet, ignoring the throbbing in his head, and dashed toward the weapon.
Just as the villager lunged at him again, Asher activated *Static,* freezing it mid-motion. He grabbed the dagger, its hilt hot from the flames, and rolled away.
*This guy is getting better at controlling its puppets,* Asher thought, his breathing labored. He had used *Static* more than seven times in the span of four minutes, and the strain was taking its toll. His energy reserves were dwindling, and his mind felt hazy.
Before he could catch his breath, a root burst from the ground, lashing out at his leg. Asher jumped back, narrowly avoiding its grasp. He raised the dagger to cut it down, but another puppet—this one partially engulfed in flames—charged at him.
Asher's instincts kicked in. He used *Static* to freeze the burning villager, then used its momentum to hurl it toward the root. The collision created a burst of flames, illuminating the darkening sky. The root retreated with a hiss, giving Asher a brief moment to regroup.
A smile broke across his face as he realized two undeniable truths. One was bad: the tree was learning fast, adapting to his tactics with frightening speed. The other was good: the tree was incredibly vulnerable to fire. The flames had consumed the root and puppet almost instantly, a weakness he could exploit.
*If I had known this earlier, I would've set the fire closer to the tree,* Asher thought, his mind racing. He hadn't risked it before, fearing the flames wouldn't spread quickly enough. But now, he had a plan.
He didn't wait for the remaining puppets to attack. Instead, he sprinted toward the nearest one, activating *Static* to freeze it in place. With a swift motion, he severed the root controlling it and let the body fall.
Asher then turned and ran toward a nearby shop—the one that had belonged to Mr. Thomas and Frank. The building was already partially engulfed in flames, its wooden poles and fabric roof burning brightly.
With a powerful kick, Asher broke one of the poles and wrapped it in the flaming fabric, creating a makeshift torch.
Holding the burning pole in his left hand, Asher turned to face the tree, a menacing smile spreading across his face. The flames reflected in his silver eyes as he prepared for the final confrontation.