Pinaka decided to stop the charade and find more about Zetaka. He lifted his head and stared at the soldier with feigned desperation.

“Scram!” the soldier barked.

Pinaka wasted no time. He scrambled to his feet and hurried toward his cell but paused briefly outside Mahnaka’s. Raising his thumb to his nose, he took a sniff. ‘It’s the same scent as Zetaka.’

To confirm, he lifted his arm and inhaled near his armpit. ‘Petrichor.’

Pinaka returned to his cell and settled down while maintaining contact with the seedling growing there. He focused on his olfactory senses, and waited patiently. Only when the scent of the Human soldier finally faded from the prison did he rise to his feet.

He walked to the nearby cell and stood before it, thinking for a moment before entering it, “Hey, Zetaka…”

He acted puzzled and suddenly faked a stumble, using the darkness as an excuse to collapse upon Zetaka, “S-Sorry!”

“What the… fuck?”

Zetaka had fallen asleep the moment he returned to his cell, only to be jolted awake when Pinaka suddenly collapsed onto him. Instinctively, his hands shot toward Pinaka’s throat, stopping just before making contact. His voice, laced with confusion, came out in a hushed whisper.

“Pinaka?”

His brows furrowed as he tried to make sense of the situation. “Why are you in my—”

Before he could finish, Pinaka was already backing away, slipping out of the cell.

“Sorry, I entered by mistake.” His voice carried exhaustion, dragging each word as he shuffled sluggishly back to his own cell.

Zetaka frowned, clicking his tongue in irritation before shaking his head. “Weirdo,” he muttered before lying back down and drifting off once more.

Meanwhile, Pinaka slumped against the corner of his own cell, pressing gently against the seedling with his back. His lips curled ever so slightly, almost devilish in their amusement.

‘Zetaka, what are you hiding?’

While musing over his thoughts, Pinaka touched the seedling with his index finger, channeling his authority to make its sprouted leaf wave gently. At the same time, he turned his focus inward, attempting to manipulate his own body—just as he had done with the seed.

He recalled the sensation from before and tried to replicate it, concentrating on a single spot on his skin, willing it to shift. A faint bulge formed under his flesh. At the same time, the scent emanating from the wound began to change.

The next moment, something shifted.

The connection between him and the seedling was severed. The leaf instinctively recoiled from his finger, as if rejecting him.

‘The moment I focus on controlling a body, my authority over wood begins to fade. Even though both are partly, or mostly, both are composed of hydrocarbons.’

Wielding authority came naturally to every sentient Race on Gangnea. As long as Pinaka remained in contact with a tree, he could sense its vitality, synchronize with its pulse, experience its life’s journey, and influence it however he pleased. But now, his understanding of the Authority became clearer.

‘This power system is granting me Authority. But I am merely wielding that authority, not owning it.’

And to ‘own’ this Authority, he will have to become more powerful.

Wood Race of Elves—Level 2 (Creation)!

Once he reached that level, his authority over wood would become fully his, unrestricted and absolute. Until then, he was only borrowing it.

If I try to control a physical body before that, the World Tree will likely reclaim my authority.

His gaze shifted to the left, toward the wall separating his cell from Zetaka’s. His mind replayed the moment of contact, dissecting the sensation.

‘That might have been the case with Zetaka. No… I’m almost certain. The moment I touched him with the intent to control his body, my authority faltered. It was the same feeling when I clutched the human soldier’s leg and tried to connect with the flesh.’

The original Elves might have refrained from expressing their authority over the bodies of living beings. It might have been labelled a taboo or the thought might have never occurred to them, due to the way they lived for thousands of years.

‘However, any bloke from Earth with a decent education should know that organic matter is composed of hydrocarbons,’ Pinaka mused.

‘I’m pretty sure many Elves who had been reincarnated from Earth must have thought about it. But after realizing that attempting to control living bodies might cost them their authority over Wood, they never went through with it.’

‘Only one did.’

Pinaka’s thoughts drifted to Zetaka, and his expression darkened.

‘The change must have been reflected in his Status Window. So, how did he avoid detection?’

The rest of the night passed in silent contemplation. From the gnawing hunger, he was unable to fall asleep due to the intensity of it. Following the olfactory senses that had been stimulated thanks to food, Pinaka’s auditory senses expanded to their limit.

Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

His body was instinctively trying to perceive the soldier’s footsteps and claps, which meant it was time for dinner. ‘I have only experienced it for two days but my body is tuned to it.’

‘Whatever the Humans are doing here, it’s working.’ He could feel why none of the Elves succeeded in breaking free from the prison. ‘But I won’t remain stuck here.’

He made a decision then and there. Before I adjust to this place, I’ll break out.

His body was in full survival mode, heightening every instinct, every reflex. His current state of mind could adapt quickly to the way authority functioned in this world, and perceive changes around him, allowing him to grasp its rules with startling clarity.

But the moment his mouth tasted even a single morsel of food, he knew that desperation would fade.

My limit is how long I can endure this hunger.

Three days. Maybe less.

The night dragged on, but Pinaka remained awake, keeping his senses sharp. The prison was silent, save for the slow, steady breaths of the other Elves. Every single one of them had succumbed to exhaustion, falling into deep slumber.

They had no choice. If they didn’t sleep after dinner, they wouldn’t have the strength to work the next day.

And any slacker was met with a Fire Whip.

Pinaka knew firsthand how much it hurt. Even a mild lash had left a deep wound on his cheek, one that still ached and hadn’t healed yet.

‘No one wants to be whipped,’ he thought, listening to the rhythmic breathing of the sleeping Elves. ‘So they’re all asleep.’

Which is why—aside from those secretly plotting to escape—no one else even knows about this… shit.

Pinaka’s nose twitched as he inhaled the scent of six Humans entering the prison. Their steps were light, almost soundless.

Unlike the soldiers, who wore tough leather shoes that clanked against the stone floors, this group moved with deliberate silence. Their footwear was soft. More than that, their gait lacked the rigid, trained movements of soldiers.

‘They don’t have that controlled stride soldiers usually have.’

It was only a guess—after all, he had only been alive for two days—but his instincts told him he was right.

He shifted closer to the entrance of his cell, and brought his attention to the pillar where the Elf had been nailed.

According to Mahnaka, the Elf’s name was Rulruka. Back on Earth, he had been a politician. And upon awakening on Gangnea, he had tried to negotiate with the Humans.

It might have worked—if he had been the first to try.

Whatever value Earth’s knowledge had to offer had already been extracted from the first batch of Elves who had attempted to barter for their freedom. As a result, Rulruka’s words held no weight, and he was reduced to nothing more than a living potion factory.

Nailed to the pillar for all to see. Drained of his blood. Again and again.

That’s a horrible life.

A shudder ran through Pinaka’s body. His wounds throbbed, his fingers trembled involuntarily. Maybe it was anger. Maybe it was pain. Maybe he was too damn hungry to think straight. In that moment, he felt an urge to rush out and slaughter the six Humans upon hearing suppressed cries from Rulruka.

STAY!

He mentally roared at himself, gripping the cold metal bars.

And then, he simply… observed.

He allowed his senses to expand, to piece together the unfolding scene. Even without seeing, he could perceive everything.

“Slow!”

A hushed voice cut through the still air—the leader of the group. “Don’t make too much noise.”

At his command, a second Human, clad in grey robes, climbed a 20-meter ladder positioned against the towering pillar. Once he reached the top, he inserted a metal lever into Rulruka’s mouth and cranked it open. The Elf’s jaw creaked in protest, but he was powerless to resist.

Below, a wooden box was slowly lifted via a pulley system attached to the side of the ladder. Once it reached the top, the robed Human carefully pried it open, revealing a fruit no different from a plum—except for its vibrant green hue and the golden vein patterns running across its surface.

Wood Relic—World Tree Fruit!

It was no larger than a thumb, yet its potency was undeniable.

The robed Human picked it up and carefully placed it into Rulruka’s forcibly opened mouth. The Elf trembled violently, wanting to resist. But nailed to the pillar, he could do nothing. His body was immobilized, and his throat had long been crushed to prevent him from screaming.

The leader below placed another box onto the pulley system, watching as it was lifted toward the top. Once it reached him, the grey-robed Human opened it, revealing a glass container with an opening designed to fit the rear of the fang lodged in Rulruka’s chest.

He picked it up, carefully aligning it with the fang before securing it in place.

“Ready,” the robed Human confirmed.

The leader nodded. “Begin.”

Without hesitation, the grey robed Human pushed the World Tree Fruit down Rulruka’s throat. The moment the Fruit went in, the Human pushed the fang deeper into Rulruka’s chest and stabbed into the heart.

“G…a…h…”

A muffled yet audible sound escaped Rulruka mouth. That was all his crushed throat could muster amidst unbearable pain as his eyes turned moist. His heart had been pierced.By all logic, he should have died instantly.

But instead… he remained alive.

Meanwhile, the World Tree Fruit’s effects became visible to the naked eye.

His body, bound by the authority of Wood, reacted instinctively. Even as pain coursed through his body, his Authority latched onto the World Tree Fruit, and began extracting its regenerative properties.

His heart began to heal, and in mere seconds, most of his ruptured organs had healed, with muscles fibres stitching themselves.

That was the sheer potency of the World Tree Fruit. It is said that even if ones head were to be crushed, it would regenerate.

The grey-robed Human, well-versed in this gruesome process, knew from experience that the World Tree Fruit’s effects had already taken hold. Without hesitation, he grabbed the fang and began thrusting it in and out of Rulruka’s chest, puncturing his heart over and over again.

Each time the organ was pierced, it instantly regenerated, only to be stabbed again.

And with every stab, a stream of blood was drawn into the fang and funneled into the glass container attached to its base.

The container had about one-liter capacity, and within a few seconds, it was completely filled with fresh, uncoagulated blood. Without pause, the grey-robed Human detached the container and dropped it.

Another Human, stationed below, was already prepared—he caught it seamlessly.

By the time the filled container reached the ground, another empty glass container had already been raised via the pulley system. The grey-robed Human wasted no time, swiftly attaching the new one to the fang.

The cycle continued.

Pinaka observed everything through his heightened senses.

‘The World Tree Fruit!’

‘It definitely holds the key to reaching Level 2.’

Staring at the pinned Elf, a plan formed in Pinaka’s head.

‘I’ll find out!’

…

Gangnea Daily Article #12

The Sentient Races introduced until now are: Humans, Elves, Dwarves, Ogres, and Vampires.