The battle between Quentin Vilewind and the Rooted Spirit Tree raged on, but the outcome was obvious—Quentin was losing.

  Spirit plants like this one traded mobility for overwhelming dominance in their territory.

  Within its domain, a Rooted Spirit Tree was nearly unbeatable among its tier.

  And this one was at the peak of Tier?4, only a breath away from evolving into a Tier?5 Panlong Root.

  Quentin hacked through root after root, but they regenerated faster than he could destroy them.

  Every few seconds, a root lashed across his body, tearing open flesh.

  Only a Saint?tier’s monstrous physique kept him alive.

  Anyone else—Evan included—would have been reduced to pulp instantly.

  Then a low, guttural roar echoed from deep within the root mass.

  A second surge of green evolutionary light flared.

  Evan turned toward it—and froze.

  Something was struggling inside the tangle of roots.

  A massive paw burst free, snapping a dozen roots before being dragged back under by dozens more.

  A tiger’s paw.

  A Tier?4 tiger?type beast.

  The Rooted Spirit Tree was suppressing a living Tier?4 beast while simultaneously fighting Quentin.

  Everything clicked in Evan’s mind.

  The tiger must have recently evolved into Tier?4 and been captured immediately.

  The tree was trying to devour it—absorb its energy to complete its fifth evolution.

  It had been moments away from success when Quentin attacked and exposed its existence to the world.

  A Tier?4 spirit plant was intelligent.

  It knew that once discovered, it would be hunted.

  So it had focused all its strength on consuming the tiger as fast as possible, ignoring everything else—including Quentin tunneling toward it.

  “That tiger’s almost dead,” Evan murmured. “That last strike was probably its final burst.”

  He recalled Wendy’s lessons.

  Carnivorous spirit plants didn’t chew or swallow.

  They drained their prey—blood, flesh, essence—slowly or through corrosive secretions.

  The tiger was still alive, but barely.

  Its energy was being siphoned away.

  If the tree could finish consuming it, it might evolve instantly.

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  But now it was under attack from above as well.

  A thunderous impact shook the chamber.

  Dust rained from the ceiling.

  The Saints had finally joined the battle.

  Four Saint?tier evolvers from Rovan and Muke were unleashing their full power on the mountain above.

  The Rooted Spirit Tree was being assaulted from three sides:

  Quentin from below

  Four Saints from above

  And the dying tiger within its roots

  It couldn’t handle all three.

  The tree panicked.

  Roots writhed violently.

  Even the massive tendrils forming the spherical chamber began to shift.

  Hundreds of roots lashed toward Quentin at once.

  He shifted into shadow form—

  —but suction?cup roots latched onto the shadow, dragging him back into physical form.

  He screamed as dozens of roots struck him simultaneously.

  Still, he charged forward.

  Driven by instinct.

  By obsession.

  By something calling to him from the trunk.

  He reached the base of the tree, lost his shadow form, and—

  CRUNCH.

  He bit into the trunk.

  A chunk of bark tore free, dripping with glowing green liquid.

  Tree marrow.

  The Rooted Spirit Tree went berserk.

  Roots whipped Quentin with enough force to shatter stone.

  “AHHH! IT HURTS IT HURTS IT HURTS!”

  Quentin howled, turned into shadow again, and vanished.

  Evan scrambled backward, terrified he’d be targeted next.

  But Quentin reappeared behind him—mouth full of bark, eyes wild.

  Evan nearly screamed.

  Quentin didn’t even look at him.

  He spat the bark into his hand, licked the glowing liquid, then shoved the bark into his mouth and chewed loudly.

  Evan watched in horror as Quentin’s expression changed.

  For a split second—

  His eyes cleared.

  Focused.

  Sharp.

  Sane.

  Then the clarity vanished, replaced by the familiar vacant madness.

  Evan exhaled shakily.

  Better crazy than murderous.

  But he understood now.

  The tree marrow had healed Quentin’s mind—if only for a moment.

  Wendy had said tree marrow could heal injuries and extend life.

  Apparently, it could heal mental damage too.

  Quentin’s instincts—his Saint?tier body’s survival intuition—had driven him to the tree marrow.

  He needed it.

  And now that he’d tasted it, his wounds were already closing.

  Quentin blurred forward again, diving back into the battle.

  Above them, the mountain shook harder.

  The Saints were unleashing everything they had.

  Evan crept toward the tunnel entrance, ready to retreat if the chamber collapsed.

  Then—

  The green light around the tiger dimmed rapidly.

  Its life force was gone.

  And the entire trunk erupted with blinding evolutionary light.

  The green glow thickened, condensed—

  And began shifting toward another color.

  The Rooted Spirit Tree was evolving.

  A spirit plant’s evolution isn’t a miracle.

  It’s a catastrophe waiting to happen.