From the swaying canopy above, the massive creature gently parts the leaves with enormous hands, revealing its towering presence. Its eyes, filled with curiosity and intrigue, lock onto Tiberius''s struggling form. With a voice that reverberates through the forest, carrying both a rumble of thunder and a hint of gentleness, it speaks, "Where are your golden wings of silk and honey, young soldier?"


    Tiberius, his body aching and his vision blurred, musters the strength to meet the creature''s gaze. Confusion and weariness cloud his mind as he struggles to comprehend the enormity of the situation. What is this creature? What does it want from me? With a trembling voice, he responds, "I am no soldier, nor do I possess wings of any kind. I find myself here in the beast domain, lost and seeking refuge."


    The creature''s grip on Tiberius loosens, its massive hands releasing him from their hold. A glimmer of understanding and sympathy gleams in its eyes, and it moves with a grace unexpected of its colossal size. Out of pity for the young soul that has fallen into its forest, it gently sets Tiberius down upon a pile of leaves, shaken loose from the trees above.


    As Tiberius slowly regains consciousness, he finds himself nestled amidst the fragrant foliage, a young girl kneeling beside him. Her presence exudes an ethereal beauty, her face smooth and flawless, adorned with a vibrant green hue. Intricate braids of verdant vines interweave throughout her body, lending an otherworldly charm to her appearance.


    With a gentle touch, the girl named Azeroth cradles Tiberius''s head, offering him respite and sustenance in the form of cool, refreshing water. The droplets trickle down his parched throat, invigorating his senses and bringing relief to his weary body. Tiberius''s eyes meet Azeroth''s, filled with a mixture of gratitude and curiosity. But as he gazes into her eyes, expecting warmth and kindness, he is met with an unsettling emptiness—an abyss that seems to devour all light. What secrets lie within those eyes? Is she a friend or foe?


    Tiberius''s voice quivers as he stammers out his words, a hint of fear interwoven with his gratitude. "Th... Thank you," he murmurs, his voice trembling. "Who are you, and why have you come to my aid?"


    Azeroth''s countenance remains serene, betraying no emotion as her eyes continue to hold that disconcerting void. Her voice, soft and detached, drifts through the air like a whisper from the depths of a forgotten memory. "I am Azeroth," she replies, her words coming from the forest rather than her mouth. Tiberius''s eyes widen with both fascination and trepidation as Azeroth''s voice seems to emerge from the very essence of the forest itself. It echoes around them. Azeroth, the guardian of the forest. What ancient powers does she possess?


    "Who... or what are you, Azeroth?" Tiberius musters the courage to ask, his voice barely above a whisper. His heart pounds with a mix of awe and uncertainty. “I am the guardian of this forest. Fairies and elves used to worship me, but now no more.” A tinge of melancholy seeps into her voice as if carrying the weight of forgotten reverence. “What brought about the downfall of her worship? What lies hidden within these woods?” Tiberius''s mind swirls with questions, yearning to unravel the secrets that intertwine with Azeroth and the vast expanse of the forest she protects.


    Tiberius''s breath catches in his throat as Azeroth reveals the sorrowful truth behind the downfall of her once-revered status. The weight of the forest''s forgotten worship hangs heavy in the air, suffused with melancholy. His heart aches with empathy, recognizing the loss and sacrifice that have shaped the destiny of this enchanted realm.


    "What happened?" Tiberius asks, his voice filled with a mixture of curiosity and compassion. He yearns to understand the depths of Azeroth''s anguish, to uncover the secrets buried within the ancient woods that have witnessed the fall of reverence.


    Azeroth''s eyes, still reflecting the emptiness that haunts her existence, seem to flicker with memories of a bygone era. Her voice carries a haunting melody as she recounts the painful truth. "The fairies and elves, once my devoted worshipers, sacrificed themselves to feed the eternal void within me. Their selfless acts were meant to grant me the strength to defend our forest against the Hominapii drones."


    Tiberius''s mind races with questions as Azeroth unveils the tragic fate that befell her once-devoted worshipers. The weight of their sacrifices and the depth of their devotion echo through the air, permeating the forest with an undeniable melancholy. His heart swells with empathy for the lost souls who gave themselves selflessly to nourish Azeroth''s eternal void.


    Curiosity drives Tiberius to seek further understanding, his voice laced with both intrigue and concern. "What is a Hominapii drone?" he asks, his eyes fixed on Azeroth, eager to unravel the mysteries that lie within the confines of this ancient forest.


    A pause lingers in the air as Azeroth contemplates her response. Her eyes, still reflecting the emptiness of her eternal void, flicker with memories of battles fought and sacrifices made. "Hominapii drones," she finally answers, her voice carrying the weight of a somber truth, "are soldiers of the Bee Queen''s army. For the past two years, they have ravaged the eastern half of the Crinem Kingdom, leaving destruction in their wake until they reached the mountain range that now separates Crinem from the Beathen Kingdom."


    "Why? Why did they attack?" Tiberius inquires, his voice filled with desperation and confusion, seeking answers to the senseless violence that has plagued his life.


    Azeroth''s response carries a touch of helplessness. Her voice tinged with sadness. "I don''t know," she admits, the weight of the unknown burdening her ancient wisdom. The reasons behind the Hominapii drones'' assault remain a mystery, their motives lost amidst the chaos of war.


    Turning the conversation towards Tiberius, Azeroth asks a question that cuts to the core of his identity. "Are you a human boy?" she queries, her eyes fixed upon him, awaiting his response.


    "Yes," Tiberius affirms, his voice tinged with resignation and pride. He recognizes his humanity as both a defining aspect of his being and a reminder of the vulnerability that comes with it.


    Azeroth''s next question draws forth the memories of Tiberius''s journey and the pain that has marked his path. "What brings you so far from the human domain?" she inquires, her voice gentle yet tinged with a hint of sorrow.


    After hesitating, Tiberius recounts his journey, his words laden with the weight of loss and betrayal. "After my parents died, I traveled with a lady I called my guardian, and we ended up here," he shares, his voice filled with longing and anguish.


    As she listens, a trace of empathy glimmers in Azeroth''s eyes, her heart connecting with Tiberius''s pain. She leans in closer, her voice soft and compassionate. "What happened to her?" she asks, her voice carrying the weight of genuine concern.


    Tiberius''s voice wavers with the rawness of his emotions as he reveals the tragic fate that befell his guardian. "She died to the monsters in the town over the mountain," he confesses, his words laced with seething hatred. "And the goblin king that lives in the mountain found and brought me in, claiming me as his food."


    Silence lingers in the air as Azeroth processes Tiberius''s words, her eyes clouded with a mix of sadness and resentment—memories of past battles and the fall of the goblin king flicker within her mind. "Last time I heard anyone claim themselves as a goblin king, they died in a massive battle with adventurers that the town bought," she reveals, a note of surprise tingeing her voice. "He should have died to the lizard man named Kisz two years ago."


    Tiberius''s revelation about the goblin king''s survival stirs a mixture of shock and realization within Azeroth. "Half his body was destroyed during the battle, but his stone guards saved him. He has been killing and eating the beasts in that village to regain his strength," Tiberius explains, his voice carrying a sense of grim determination.


    His words hang heavy in the air. "Well, I now claim you as mine, young one, and I shall raise you under my protection," she declares, her voice filled with a motherly certainty.


    Tiberius''s emotions, fueled by grief and the burning hatred that courses through his veins, surge to the surface. "But I don''t want to be raised under your protection," he exclaims, his voice laced with defiance and pain. "I want to live with my parents. But they''re dead. I wanted to be with my guardian, but she was dead. I hate them. I hate them all. The goblin king killed that lady, leading to the death of my guardian. He just stood in the shadows as he watched her die."The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    Azeroth''s gaze softens as his words echo through the forest, carrying the weight of his anguish. She understands the depth of Tiberius''s pain, the burden of loss that weighs upon his young shoulders. In her eyes, a glimmer of empathy replaces the emptiness that has haunted her existence.


    Tiberius''s plea echoes through the forest. His voice is filled with a relentless determination to avenge the losses he has endured. He yearns for strength to confront the goblin king and stand against the forces that have caused so much devastation in his life. Azeroth listens attentively, her eyes reflecting a mix of understanding and concern.


    "I cannot replace what you have lost, nor can I erase the pain that scars your heart," Azeroth murmurs, her voice filled with empathy. Her touch conveys a sense of both reassurance and caution. The weight of Tiberius''s request lingers in the air, carrying with it the realization that his path will be fraught with danger and sacrifice.


    As Tiberius awaits Azeroth''s response, a hushed silence falls over the forest. Whispers begin to resonate through the ancient trees, their voices intertwining with the wind. Then, as if in response to Tiberius''s plea, the forest speaks again. Azeroth''s voice, carrying the wisdom of the woods, breaks through the silence.


    "If this is truly what you wish for, if you are resolved to walk a path of vengeance and confront the darkness that plagues your life, then I shall honor your choice," Azeroth replies, her voice reverberating through the dense foliage.


    As the forest whispers its approval, the vines beside Azeroth intertwine, forming the face of a giant muscular man—a manifestation of Azeroth''s presence and power. This second entity, also known as Azeroth, possesses an empty, hollow gaze and a flawless mask-like visage. Together, they will guide and train Tiberius to become more robust than any other.


    Azeroth speaks with a voice that seems to emanate from the depths of the forest. "I will teach you, train you to become stronger than any other," she says, her words resonating through the dense foliage. "But for now, you must rest. You have had a long day." A canopy forms above Tiberius, embracing him in a protective shelter as he succumbs to sleep, his dreams filled with the promises of newfound strength.


    Meanwhile, the goblin king stands atop the mountain, his gaze fixed on the distant forest where Tiberius disappeared. Confidence radiates from his imposing figure as he believes the boy to be dead, considering no man or beast could survive the treacherous Whispering Souls Forest. Little does he know that Tiberius has found refuge within the heart of the forest under the watchful guidance of Azeroth.


    Unbeknownst to the goblin king, Tiberius''s fate has taken an unexpected turn. As he slumbers under the forest''s protective canopy, his journey toward vengeance and redemption is only beginning. The whispers of the forest and the strength of Azeroth will shape his path, preparing him for the battles that lie ahead.


    As the first rays of sunlight pierce through the dense foliage, they converge into a radiant beam that finds its way to Tiberius''s closed eyes. The warm touch of the morning light gently rouses him from his slumber. Opening his eyes, he finds himself greeted by the soft glow of the forest, imbued with a sense of anticipation.


    Azeroth''s voice resonates through the morning''s tranquility, her words carrying a hint of warmth and determination. "Good morning, young Tiberius. I hope you slept well," he says, his voice carrying a comforting tone. "Today marks the beginning of your training."


    The day began early as soon as the sun rose over the horizon. But the outside world was cut off from him, and time no longer had meaning. The forest was so dense light couldn''t possibly get in, yet the forest floor was illuminated as if it was.


    Tiberius rises, a mixture of excitement and hate coursing through his veins. The canopy above him fades away, allowing the full brilliance of the morning sun to embrace him. The forest comes alive with a symphony of rustling leaves. Other than that, it was ominously quiet, with no birds tweeting or rivers flowing. It is a world devoid of much more than the trees around him.


    Azeroth steps forward in the form of the giant muscular man''s presence, radiating a mixture of ancient wisdom and newfound purpose. He extends his hand toward Tiberius, inviting him to embark on a journey of self-discovery and growth. "For the first few months to years, we will build up your endurance and strength." He declares, his voice filled with determination. "After a few years, you will be strong enough to learn magic, abilities, and other things. This is based on elves, the ones that live and train in this forest. I have never trained a human."


    “Today, we will work on endurance and stamina.” Azeroth, The Forest''s voice said. This manifestation shall help you in your training. He will form where ever you need him.” Azeroth said, manifesting himself atop a tree as an example. “But first, I want to hear how badly you hate those people. Tell me what you would do to those people that ripped away your friends and family.” Suddenly five manifestations formed around Tiberius, each different and each just as hollow as the last. “Would you Kill them for your own selfish ambitions?”


    Tiberius thought to himself, the thought of death still in his mind. “Man or beast, I will kill them.”


    “That''s good to hear,” Azeroth said. “Then the training you shall undergo will be harsh.”


    Tiberius''s training commenced with a grueling regimen, as he found himself fully immersed in the relentless pursuit of physical and mental excellence. The first hundred days were dedicated to building his endurance and stamina. Every morning, as the sun peeked over the horizon, he was roused from his slumber by Azeroth''s gentle voice, urging him to start his day.


    Under Azeroth''s watchful eye, Tiberius set out on long, arduous runs through the forest, the earth beneath his feet pounding with each step. He pushed himself to the limits, running through miles of dense undergrowth and uneven terrain. His breaths labored as he forced himself to go further each day. Through sheer determination, he increased his pace, feeling the strength in his legs grow with each stride.


    Climbing trees became a daily challenge, and soon Tiberius was scaling the towering trunks with the agility of a seasoned forest dweller. He leaped from branch to branch, his body becoming one with the trees as he mastered the art of traversing the forest canopy with ease. The once-unfamiliar world of the treetops became his playground, and he reveled in the freedom it granted him.


    Dodging and weaving through the dense foliage became second nature to Tiberius. The forest, once an obstacle course of potential dangers, now felt like an extension of his being. He moved gracefully through the trees and vines, anticipating every twist and turn, evading imaginary foes conjured by Azeroth''s manifestations.


    As the days turned into weeks, Tiberius''s body transformed. His muscles grew taut and defined, honed by the rigors of his training. His breathing became steady and controlled, a testament to his newfound endurance. With each passing day, he felt the weight of his past burdens lighten, replaced by a sense of accomplishment and newfound strength.


    As the first rays of sunlight painted the horizon with hues of gold and pink, Tiberius prepared himself for another day of training in the Whispering Souls Forest. The air was thick with anticipation, and the gentle rustling of leaves carried a sense of excitement as he ventured deeper into the heart of the ancient woods.


    Unbeknownst to him, however, a sudden twist of fate awaited him. As he began his morning exercises, Azeroth’s vines snaked their way out of the dense foliage and lashed out with unexpected force. The unexpected hit caught Tiberius off guard, and before he could react, he was sent hurtling through the air, colliding with a sturdy tree trunk with a resounding thud.


    The impact reverberated through his body, leaving him momentarily disoriented. Before he could regain his senses, a sudden onslaught of vines and roots descended upon him like an entangling web, and their movements imbued with malevolence. Each whip and slam struck him with merciless force, tearing at his flesh and leaving agonizing marks across his body.


    Tiberius''s anguished cries reverberated through the dense foliage of the Whispering Souls Forest, the haunting sound echoing among the ancient trees. The once tranquil and serene atmosphere was now suffused with the cacophony of his torment. With every lash of the vindictive vines, his pain intensified, each strike feeling like a crushing blow that threatened to overwhelm him.


    Time seemed to blur as the relentless assault continued unabated, the vines showing no mercy. As the hours stretched on, Tiberius''s cries eventually subsided, and his tear ducts drained dry from the ceaseless deluge of pain. He curled into a fetal position, the weight of the forest''s wrath pressing down on him like an insurmountable burden.


    As the sun began its descent below the horizon, casting long shadows across the forest floor, a sudden manifestation of Azeroth appeared before Tiberius. With a mere flick of his colossal hands, the vines were swept away, leaving the battered young warrior in the wake of the relentless torment.


    "You said you would do anything for your selfish ambitions. And that anything costs your soul and your happiness," Azeroth, The Forest, intoned with an air of solemnity.


    Tiberius''s eyes, once filled with fiery determination, were now hollow and empty, reflecting the toll that the ordeal had taken on his spirit. His body bore the deep lacerations inflicted by the merciless vines, and his skin was etched with the marks of suffering. The relentless bombardment of the vines had left no room for fear, hatred, or any other emotions; it was as if the forest had stripped him bare, leaving only a shell of his former self.


    Twelve agonizing hours had elapsed, during which whipping, screaming, and crying had drained Tiberius of his voice and left him utterly broken. His spirit, once fierce and unyielding, now flickered like a dying ember.


    "If you can still walk, here you go," Azeroth declared, materializing a long wooden sword with a mere thought. The sword formed seamlessly through his hand and extended into the air before him. With a forceful break, Azeroth detached the hilt from his hand and tossed the dull sword to Tiberius.


    The weight of wooden sword felt heavy in Tiberius''s trembling hands, symbolizing not just a physical weapon but a pivotal turning point in his journey. It was the true beginning of his training.