The potions kept Ra'ntar alive and conscious, but didn't satisfy his hunger one bit.

"Get up." Lith's voice rang to the Chronicler's ears like a death knell.

"No." Ra'ntar looked up at Lith in defiance without moving. "I refuse to fight. I won't play your game, whatever it is."

Hard-light constructs shaped like hands lifted the elf up from the scruff of his neck, shoulders, and arms, forcing him to take a combat stance.

Ra'ntar had no intention of standing up, and let gravity bring him back down. The moment his feet touched the ground, a right punch struck his armor and shattered his ribcage.

His lungs and heart collapsed, filling his airways with blood. While he was still recoiling from the punch, a leg sweep struck his knees. The impact almost severed his legs, only thin strips of skin and cartilage held them together.

As the Chronicler was finally falling to the ground, Lith stepped around him and hit Ra'ntar in the back, ripping his spine out.

The Immortal Body array put the pieces back together and Quylla's treatments kept the elf from dying of shock, but the hunger reached new heights as more of the elf's muscles, bones, and fluids were consumed to fuel the regeneration process.

Ra'ntar wanted to cry, but he was so dehydrated that no tears flowed out.

"What do you want from me?" His mouth was completely dry of saliva, making his voice hoarse. "What do you hope to achieve with this? I'm just one Chronicler of many, my life is worthless.

Ra'ntar was blind, deaf, and couldn't feel anything from the neck down. He was supposed to be surrounded by darkness yet his damaged optic never projected a blinding whiteness as if he was staring at the sun.

"Your actions are worthless. With the dimensional seal, my master isn't experiencing any of this torture, but if you open it, they will know what you are doing and deal with you accordingly. Either way, you can't win."

Ra'ntar was scared and hungry, but his brain still worked. The Yggdrasill staff helped him to focus, but no matter how hard he thought, he couldn't find a reason for Lith's actions aside from pure sadism.

"What I want is for you to suffer like Solus did since the day you took her away from me." Golden hands lifted the elf again, turning his head up to force him to look Lith in the eyes.

"To know what it means to be alone, scared, and hungry in the hands of someone who considers you a means to an end. Once you have learned your lesson, I'll lift the dimensional seal so that your master can share your knowledge. Until then…"

Lith's extended fingers pierced through Ra'ntar's eyes, stopping millimeters short of his brain. Two quick slaps on either side of the elf's head burst his eardrums while a hit at the base of his neck severed the spine.

Ra'ntar was blind, deaf, and couldn't feel anything from the neck down. He was supposed to be surrounded by darkness yet his damaged optic never projected a blinding whiteness as if he was staring at the sun.

Before he knew it, he was whole again.

Ra'ntar didn't waste time talking, he conjured as many low tiered spells as he could and unleashed them at the same time.

'Dominate this, you bastard!' Under the cover of his magic, the Chronicler made the Davross blade emerge from the tip of his staff and pointed it at himself. 'I have no chance of defeating Verhen in my current state, but the enchantments of my weapon can kill me!'

Golden hands locked Ra'ntar joints while a flick of Lith's fingers sent the hail of spells back. They pierced through the elf's body, opening more holes than a form of Swiss cheese while also avoiding his vitals.

"Good." Lith nodded. "If you gave up on your life, it means I've broken your spirit. Time to break your body."

Even in his debilitated state, Ra'ntar found the strength to sneer at such a preposterous claim.

'Verhen has Lith has already done his worst and failed. I can use darkness fusion anytime I want to stop the pain and there's a limit to how much he can torture me. If he pushes me too much, I'll die of consumption and he'll achieve nothing.'

Or so the Chronicler thought, until Ragnarök pierced through one of the densest nerve clusters of his body and used its Counterflow ability to neutralize the elf's fusion magic.

At the same time, Quylla injected enough potions inside Ra'ntar blood flow to quench his thirst and ensure he would survive what came next.

"Tezka, now!" On Lith's cue, the Suneater took the Yggdrasill staff away from the elf and released the dimensional seal.

***

Back at the Fringe, thousands of kilometers away, the World Tree studied Solus' ring with their breathing technique, Root Cause, while at the same time supervising the missions of the thousands of Chroniclers scattered throughout Mogar.

'What's wrong with Elphyn?' The Yggdrasill thought. 'This is the third day since her last escape attempt and the tower is still covered in cracks. After feeding upon so many of my followers, she was supposed to-'

The World Tree used no filter while communicating with their Chroniclers.

Every telepathic transmission was received in its entirety and reviewed by a fraction of the Tree's consciousness to decide what to share with the Librarians and what to keep to themselves.

Everything a Chroniclers saw, heard, and experienced was stored in the Yggdrasil staff and transmitted to the World Tree at regular intervals. So, when Tezka lifted the cell's dimensional seal, the Yggdrasill experienced everything Lith had done to Ra'ntar at once.

The pain was so intense that the World Tree lost their focus, screaming telepathically to anyone who could listen and losing control over the several access points to their Fringe.

The Yggdrasill had never experienced thirst or hunger. The bountiful soil of Mogar nourished them since they had memory and conjuring water was something even a human child could do.

The World Tree knew that having their needs not met was supposed to be unpleasant and that day they learned how much.

To make matters worse, Ragnarök's edge cut Ra'ntar most sensitive areas and neutralized darkness fusion while Tezka injected Chaos throughout the Yggdrasill staff's phloem system with a skill honed through millennia.

Enough to flood with Chaos every fiber and lymph drop of the wood but not enough to inflict lethal damage.

Ra'ntar caused the World Tree psychological pain through their bond while the Yggdrasill staff transmitted physical pain since it was a living part of the World Tree.

Chroniclers fell to their knees all over Mogar, screaming at the top of their lungs and revealing their presence to those they were supposed to observe from the shadows.

"Who in the gods' name is that?" King Meron said as the Chronicler's disguise crumbled revealing an elf woman spying on him under the guise of one of the many minor nobles of his Court.

Rulers, mages, and powerful beings all over Mogar suddenly found strangers in their homes and labs. Familiar visages and forms shapeshifted into elves they had never seen before.

Millennia of careful infiltration and undercover work went into the gutter in the span of a few seconds yet that wasn't the worst part.

With the Yggdrasill desperately trying to suppress the telepathic connection and doing damage control to help the Chroniclers flee before before they were captured, the access points to the Fringe all over Mogar remained open.