Chapter 74: Interlude: Wild Hunt

Green, inorganic trees stood in ranks upon the red earth. The Tree Crystals sprouting in the wilderness suggested not rugged vitality so much as a sense of irreversible decay. —No. Even here on a battlefield—no, precisely because it was a battlefield—D.D., a dog-faced Tooth in an elegant suit, gave a small shake of the head, as if denying that thought. The world does not change. The red earth, the inorganic trees that grow upon it—they have not changed in three hundred years. And…