Arad was standing in the middle of the charred insides of the trunk, looking down at the sprawled Dendron. "First off, wear something."
She opened her eyes, looked at him, and then shrugged. "No thanks, I was just reborn and I'm quite sensitive. I need a few minutes so my nerves calm down."
Arad wanted to call Cerilla and the rest, but he still wasn't sure whether he could trust Dendron not to attack them. He looked once more at her. And then sighed, "What's your goal? It isn't to stop us from reaching the top, and it's not killing us, so what is it?"
Dendron looked at Arad with a passive face for a long while. "I don't know."
Protecting the World Tree was Dendron's job. In the Night of Flames, when the Dark Elves set the World Tree ablaze, it was she who cast the great magic that doused the flames. It was she who chased down the arsonists and killed them all. One by one, she grilled them all alive, one by one, as the rest watched.
