Chapter 10 - # **Chapter 10: The Greenheart's Call**

A thrumming in his bones woke Alaric at midnight—deep, insistent, like a heartbeat in the earth. He slipped into the palace crypt, its air cold and musty, stone walls carved with faded runes. Beneath a cracked altar glowed a seed—crystalline, pulsing green. He touched it, and it fused with him, veins flaring emerald, vines sprouting wildly from his arms, cracking the floor. "Guess I'm the chosen weed now," he muttered, steadying himself as the crypt trembled.A thrall lunged from the shadows—fangs bared, eyes red. Alaric summoned fifty glowing vines, their sap paralyzing it in coils that tightened with a snap. "Nap time, fang-face," he said, watching it slump. He staggered out, exhausted, sap dripping. "This hero crap's gonna kill me," he wheezed, but a flicker of pride sparked—naps, pie, maybe Eldrathia were worth it. He flopped onto the grass outside, staring at the stars. "Just five minutes, then I'll deal with this mess."