Chapter 42: Sunroot Wall
Kaelor stood before the massive trunk. Without ceremony, he gripped the hilt of his sword, Ignis, with both hands. The steel hummed faintly, an energy barely perceptible to those untrained in sensing power.
Then, with one heavy swing, the blade arced through the air and the tree was severed cleanly at its base, its upper half toppling with a deafening crash, leaving behind a smooth stump.
Gasps erupted.
Without pausing, Kaelor moved to another. Another strike. Another perfect, seamless cut. And then again. This time, as he steadied his stance, closed his eyes, and inhaled deeply, something changed.
Three trees fell in unison.
Silence fell over the workers, mouths parted in awe. Not a splinter in sight.
Kaelor lowered Ignis slowly, the blade glinting in the midday light as if it had never tasted bark. He said nothing, only walked past the fallen giants and disappeared beyond the clearing.
"His sword didn’t even touch those trees," Philip whispered, his voice laced with disbelief.
Damien, older and more observant, muttered under his breath. "That means he’s a Swordsman... at the Expert rank. You should be more worried about why he hasn’t used your skills. He’s watching us, judging our usefulness." His tone dropped. "Get to work."
And just like that, the murmurs faded as urgency returned. The men bent to their tasks again, hauling one of the fallen trunks toward the town with strained breaths.
Six more days passed in intensive labor. The forest echoed with the sounds of movement, of trees dragged and chopped, of voices raised in command or frustration. By the end of the week, over two thousand felled trees were stacked in neat piles, each a monument to sweat.