Honkai Star Rail: I Became the World Tree — Chapter 50

Chapter 50: Ruan Mei and Screwllum

After a grueling morning of martial instruction, Clorinde found herself looking at Nash with a deep new sense of respect.

The elf’s swordsmanship was leagues beyond her own. She had only demonstrated her personal techniques for him once, yet Nash had effortlessly dissected her forms, pointing out over a dozen minute flaws and offering immediate, practical adjustments. When Clorinde tested the revised stances, the difference was staggering; her blade moved with a refined, lethal fluidity she had never achieved before.

Soon after the impromptu lesson, the group handled the dense foliage back to Nash’s temporary sanctuary. The moment they arrived, Nash called the scattered members of his clan together.

The elves gathered, their faces etched with years of exhaustion and exile.

“Everyone,” Nash began, his voice trembling slightly with suppressed emotion. “Lord Sacred Tree has been revived. We can go home.”

The word ‘home’ hung in the air, heavy and miraculous. Tears spilled freely down the faces of the surrounding elves. Only the heavens knew the depth of sorrow these homeless wanderers had endured, and the sheer, overwhelming relief that washed over them at the prospect of returning.

“Go home! We can go home!”

“Quickly, pack your belongings! We’re leaving!”

To these elves, there was only one true home in the entire world: the Holy City where Samuel resided. Any other place was merely a temporary shelter to survive the night.

Meanwhile, deep within the Orc Tribe’s encampment in the eastern reaches of the Elven Forest, the atmosphere was distinctly less joyous.

Grease dripped down Sarulu’s chin as he savagely tore into a massive leg of roasted lamb.

“Chief!” a Jackal demi-human called out, scurrying into the tent and bowing low. “Groot’s scouting squad… they ventured into the Elven Forest yesterday and haven’t returned all night!”

Sarulu scowled, his thick brows furrowing. He ripped off another massive chunk of meat, chewed loudly, and tossed the half-eaten bone aside.

“Missing for a night? It matters little,” the Chief grunted, wiping his mouth with the back of a massive hand. “There are only a handful of those cursed, withered elves left in that forest. They pose absolutely no threat to a warrior like Groot. They likely got distracted or delayed by some beast on the road. Pay it no mind.”

The Jackal scout nodded hastily, not daring to argue, and quickly withdrew from the tent.

From the shadows near the back of the tent, the Priest stepped forward, his tone measured and cautious. “Chief Sarulu, while it is true the Elf Clan bears a heavy curse, we must not forget their foundation. As the kin of Irminsul, their roots run deep. They possess numerous ancient secret arts that require no physical strength to cast. We would be wise to remain on our guard.”

Sarulu scoffed, reaching for a heavy clay jug of wine and downing it in several massive gulps. He slammed the jug down. “Fine. Send another team to track Groot down. You pick the candidates.”

Dismissing the matter entirely, Sarulu pulled the trembling Deer-kin beauty beside him closer and laid back down to sleep.

The Priest offered a slight bow, exiting the large tent into the murky morning air. He immediately summoned Shilut, Groot’s older brother.

Shilut approached with heavy, confident steps, dropping to one knee and lowering his head respectfully. “Lord Priest. You summoned me.”

The Priest nodded. “Indeed. Gather your squad and track down your brother. He departed yesterday and has yet to report back.”

Shilut grunted in acknowledgment, rising to his feet to assemble his forces. His squad was a vastly superior fighting force compared to Groot’s ragtag group, boasting ten hulking Big Goblins, two elusive Shadow Goblins, and a swarming horde of over a hundred standard Goblins.

As Shilut marched his heavily armed unit out of the camp gates, he let out a long, irritated sigh. “Groot is probably just slacking off in a ditch somewhere again. I need to drag him back quickly before the Priest and the Chief decide to make an example of him.”

Much like Sarulu, Shilut simply couldn’t fathom the idea of Groot encountering any genuine danger within the decaying Elven Forest.

Little did the orcs know, the ‘danger’ Groot had encountered was far beyond their comprehension. At this very moment, the missing goblin had been reduced to a helpless test subject, securely strapped to a cold, sterile experimental table by Herta for her personal research.

High above the Robot Settlement, inside the sleek, pristine interior of a hovering Starship, two of the universe’s greatest minds had just arrived.

“Good day, Ms. Herta.”

“Herta. Where is this fascinating demi-human specimen you mentioned?”

Herta spun around from her console, a satisfied smirk playing on her lips. “You two finally made it. Screwllum. Ruan Mei.”

The newcomers were indeed fellow members of the Genius Society. Both shared a close, collaborative relationship with Herta, frequently gathering to dissect the universe’s most complex anomalies. Stephen was technically part of their little group as well, but his crippling social anxiety kept him locked away in his own domain.

Herta gestured grandly toward the paralyzed Groot strapped to the metal table behind her. “Right there. Ruan Mei, behold the demi-human I plucked from that other world. He even possesses a unique biological mechanism—a skill called ‘Deathmatch.’ It forcefully triggers the moment his vital signs drop to near-death levels. Well? Isn’t he just the perfect little guinea pig?”

Ruan Mei stepped forward, her elegant plum-blossom eyes narrowing with intense, clinical interest as she studied the goblin. “Let us draw a vial of blood first.”

Moving with practiced familiarity, Ruan Mei approached the table. A nearby Herta puppet dutifully handed her a specialized syringe. Without a second thought, Ruan Mei plunged the thick needle directly into Groot’s thick hide, extracting a dark, viscous fluid.

Because Groot’s body was already pushed to the absolute brink from Herta’s previous viral experiments, the sudden, painful extraction was the final straw. A violent, crimson aura suddenly erupted from the goblin’s body, his muscles bulging against the restraints as the ‘Deathmatch’ passive activated.

Screwllum adjusted his monocle, his mechanical optics whirring as he observed the crimson energy. “Fascinating. The biological entities of this alternate dimension are truly miraculous. The underlying mechanics of this skill possess exceptionally high research value.”

Herta giggled, thoroughly enjoying the attention her new toy was receiving. “Oh, just wait. Let me show you something even better.”

She casually produced a polished wooden staff from thin air. With a lazy flick of her wrist, a brilliant speck of starlight materialized, trailing a luminous tail as it shot across the room and slammed into a reinforced observation window.

A sharp crack echoed through the lab as a spiderweb fracture appeared on the glass.

“I have skills now, too,” Herta boasted, leaning on the staff. “How about it? Isn’t it pretty? I’m calling it Starlight Magic.”

Ruan Mei placed the vial of blood into a centrifuge, not even looking up as she delivered her assessment. “Is this the ability you acquired from that ‘Source Continent’ you mentioned? The visual effects are certainly pleasant, but the destructive output leaves much to be desired.”

Herta’s smug expression vanished. She planted her hands on her hips, glaring at her colleague. “Excuse me? The glass on my Starship is military-grade, special-composite material! The fact that it left a mark at all is incredibly impressive, okay?”

Ruan Mei carefully transferred a single drop of the goblin’s blood onto a glass slide and slipped it under a high-powered microscope. “Mhm. As long as you are happy with it.”

This was simply how the two geniuses interacted—a constant, subtle exchange of scientific barbs and dry roasts. Whenever Ruan Mei’s complex biological experiments ended in failure, Herta would inevitably bake her a cake, mockingly calling it a ‘celebration’ of her newly discovered dead end. In return, Ruan Mei never missed an opportunity to deflate Herta’s ego. Yet, beneath the sharp words, their mutual respect was absolute. Teasing friends were true friends, after all.

Screwllum watched the frustrated puppet cross her arms and let out a refined, synthesized chuckle. “You two truly do share a wonderful friendship.”

Herta shot the mechanical aristocrat a withering glare. “Screwllum, in what universe does this look like a good relationship? Ugh, whatever. Don’t just stand there analyzing us. Make yourself useful.”

Screwllum bowed slightly, his gears clicking softly. “Does this pertain to the alien flora and fauna you collected from this alternate world?”

Herta nodded, her annoyance fading back into business. “Exactly. I’ve already instructed Asta to begin constructing a specialized botanical garden and a containment zoo back on the Space Station. Since you brought your personal Starship, you can help me transport the specimens back shortly.”

“It would be my honor,” Screwllum replied smoothly. He paused, his optical sensors focusing on Herta. “However, I do have a question, Ms. Herta.”

Herta raised an eyebrow. “You want to know when I’m taking you to the other world, don’t you?”

Screwllum offered a noncommittal nod.

“Soon,” Herta promised, turning her attention back to the groaning goblin on the table. “But first, I want to see what happens when we introduce a few more exotic viral strains into this demi-human’s system.”

Screwllum didn’t press the issue. Instead, he approached the table, smoothly integrating himself into the experiment.

“Ms. Herta, did you just introduce the Neo-Kochi strain into his bloodstream?”

“I did. What’s the preliminary reaction?”

“Cellular degradation is rapid. He cannot withstand the current viral load.”

“Is that so?” Ruan Mei murmured, adjusting her microscope. “Perhaps we should artificially stimulate his immune system first. A stronger host yields longer observation periods. Thoughts?”

“Highly feasible,” Screwllum agreed.

The three unmatched geniuses gathered tightly around the table, their voices dropping into a rapid, highly technical discussion.

Beneath them, pumped full of heavy anesthetics but entirely conscious, Groot could only stare at the ceiling in absolute, silent terror as the universe’s greatest minds continued to poke, prod, and dismantle him.