The God Of The Undead - Chapter 55

As Joselin proceeded to oversee the ensuring incursion upon Allen’s Bunker, she had come to witness something rather bizarre. A rather large humanoid white oak tree with pinkish-red leaves and a rather menacing naturally grown face had just uprooted itself from the soil beneath it and get the Centipede rather brutally. At that moment, Joselin could only think, “What an amazing punt.”

Although Joselin wanted to fight Pan despite John stealing her chance to obtain those beautiful wings, she could only pout and seek enjoyment from turning the white tree humanoid into splinters.

As she approached the currently rowdy struggle and battle of strength between the Centipede, who was attempting to wrap itself around its prey and crush it to death, and the tree creature, who was attempting to untangle itself and prevent the Centipede from crushing it. Although it was a stalemate for a short while, eventually, the tree creature stilled itself before using magic to control the nature around it and summoning and hardening the tree roots from the nearby trees to wrap around the Centipede and hold it in place to prevent it from further crushing it.

Although the Centipede couldn’t further tighten and crush the tree creature, the tree creature couldn’t move either. They were both bound together, with neither capable of escape. Joslin found this fight between the centipede and the appearance of this new unknown threat interesting. Why were they suddenly appearing?

The word they was indeed an accurate word choice because this wasn’t the only wooden creature that had suddenly appeared battling the forces of the undead currently racing toward the sabotaged gate, but from the magic power radiating from it, Joselin was indeed correct to watch it’s fight against the centipede closely and analyze the results of the winner.

As the old White Oak Spirit was looking for a way to unbind itself from the Centipede, it looked around frantically for a solution as it didn’t want to use any of its trump cards when I did not need to. As it looked around amidst the deadly deadlock, its eyes ran past trees and undead that simply ignored it as they had the d.e.s.i.r.e for flesh showed by their m.o.a.ns and constant approach of the compromised bunker.

As old White Oak Spirit scanned the forest ground, it doubled back its line of sight back to an area as he could have sworn he saw someone or something casually observing its predicament. Quickly its eye’s landed on what seemed to be a small teen girl around the age of 16 to 18 with ethnic roots to the south of what used to be what humans called North America.

While holding the Centipede from crushing it, he simultaneously observed the girl who wore a pitch-black 18-century style custom-made dress with red and silver frills around the wrist, legs, shoulder, and neck. Her shoes were by no means cheap as they looked to be brand new and custom-made. She had headwear reminiscent of what a maid would wear on the job.

The old White Oak Spirit looked surprised as he had not suspected such an individual of appearing here and at this moment, better yet, one that looked so young. Of course, the old White Oak tree wasn’t a fool; it knew that someone of such an appearance appearing suddenly while not being attacked by the army of the undead was nothing more than an enemy. Why? Well, why not? As the old White Oak spirit understood, this was a battlefield, and you were either a friend or a foe, and this teenage girl looked to be far from being a tree.

“Aye, I see this won’t be an easy battle after all.” The old White Oak Spirit said while keeping an on the girl while holding off the Centipede.

“Oh, so you did notice me! I was hoping to get the chance to talk to you before turning you into wood ch.i.p.s for my corpse garden. Yeah, I know wood ch.i.p.s don’t go in gardens, but it would give it a new aesthetic,” Joselin said while walking with her legs extended like a soldier in training while holding her hands in the air below her neck as if she had asked a question.

“Wood ch.i.p.s for a garden, huh… Now that would be a very f.u.c.k.e.d up ending for a wooden fellow like me, now wouldn’t it? Naaah, you little bitch, I think I prefer to be made into I bear totem pole after death, but before that, since your this close, enjoy this, {Deep forest: Thorn Hell!}” The old White Oak Spirit yell before long, thick, and sharp branches rapidly grew out of its body, piercing the centipede with rather large holes to the point that the branches tore it apart. The branches quickly extended past the surrounding trees.

Joselin had easily pounced like a cat around the freakishly growing branches until they stopped moving, and she finally settled one. She looked around with awe at the new surrounding. It looked like something with massive and skinny tentacles had stretched itself out across her surroundings.

Looking around, she knew this wasn’t the d.e.s.i.r.ed effect of this creature’s attack, yet she wasn’t just idly dodging around the branches either. As she was looking around, something felt off as she happened to notice large thorns in areas where they weren’t before. It was at this moment she knew that she was at a disadvantage.

Just as she was about to high tail it away, the large thorns began to extend with lightning speed with the intent to pierce Joseling into oblivion. Seeing as this was the d.e.s.i.r.ed effect of the creature’s attack, she quickly began running and jumping between the magically grown branches like a world-class athlete whose skills were far superior to any before her; it was as she was playing and dancing while running and jumping in mid-air.

As Joselin pranced and danced around the branches filled with sharp thorns attempting to pierce her with every chance they got, she dodged the thorns with the most minimal of movement possible, slowly closing in on the Old White Oak Tree Spirit. Every meter Joselin got close to the tree creature, the more thorns there were to try their luck in piercing the young undead lady.

After playing around with the new terrain, the tree creature had created with its body Joselin had finally reached a clearing where the Old White Oak Spirit stood with its arms stretched out wide and its fingers extended into the deep forest of branches surrounding them. Joselin looked around at the numeral amount of undead crushed, entrapped, or disposed by a pierced skull with its rotting brains still on the very thorn that killed it. Feeling disappointed that none of her minions survived long enough to join her fight in the makeshift arena, she huffed and said, “Well, ain’t this a bummer. Well, let’s get on with the boss fight, shall we?”

As Joselin said, that tree creature snapped its fingers off of the branches connecting it to the forest of thorns it had just created and clenched its fist and said, “Youngling, are you sure you have enough power and experience to take me on? For I am the GREAT OLD WHITE OAK TREE SPIRIT!!!!”

As if feeling insulted, Joselin rotated her head a full ninety degrees and said, “First, off, “Anakin,” don’t refer to me as a youngling. Second when I referred to our fight as a boss fight, did you perhaps believe you were the boss in this situation? Awwweeee, how cute!”

The Old White Oak Tree felt a shiver down his spine for a moment and quickly crafted a wooden war hammer and took on a defensive stance. It didn’t know why it felt fear and intimidated by the small undead girl, but he knew that what he assumed earlier was right, that this foe of his was nothing but trouble.