“Now that the explanation is over,” Mahnaka touched the soil and caused a seed to sprout. In just a few minutes, it had grown into a sturdy shrub. He plucked it from the earth and handed it to Pinaka. “Touch it and feel the wood forming it. Everything else will come to you by instinct.

Upon his instructions, Pinaka grabbed the shrub. A shiver ran down his spine almost instantly—goosebumps prickled his arms. A fresh breeze brushed his skin despite no real wind. He smelled the scent of vitality and felt his mind becoming sharper, energetic, and overall…connected.

—Thump! Thump!

His heartbeat quickened. Without any conscious effort, he knew what to do. The shrub had a few interlocked branches and a bunch of leaves. Slowly, they intertwined and merged into a thicker stem. The leaves elongated and turned pointy at his input, gradually resembling the feathers of a bird.

“That’s it,” Mahnaka grinned, “Exercise your imagination. That’s all this power system is—pure imagination. The stronger your stats, the faster you can bring your ideas to life.”

“Thank you for the clear explanation,” Pinaka played around with the shrub, slowly changing its shape as he pleased. He created a ball, a glove covered by leaves, a shield, and, just for laughs, a wiener.

Mahnaka blinked. “That’s… damn.” He chuckled for the first time in years, his usual gloom momentarily lifted. “What a monster.”

“It’s a life-sized replica of mine from Earth,” Pinaka smirked, full of himself.

Mahnaka squinted. “You must have been a horse…” He trailed off, staring awkwardly for a few seconds before adding, “Mine was slightly bigger.”

“Oh, fuck off!” Pinaka rolled his eyes as they spent the next few minutes casually insulting each other’s “little brothers.”

Mahnaka, still grinning, finally sighed. “Jokes aside,” he said, wiping away the last remnants of laughter, “I haven’t laughed like that in over a decade.”

His demeanor shifted as he placed his hand on the ground, pulling out a tiny seed. “Now, the first of the two Spells I can teach you is this.”

[Spell: Seed Overgrowth]

Saying so, Mahnaka planted the seed in the soil and maintained contact with his index finger. A mild stirrup from the nearby soil dried up in response. A couple of seconds later, a sapling sprouted. “This Spell accelerates a seed’s germination process.”

Mahnaka then touched the second seed and beckoned Pinaka to do the same, “You’ll understand what to do as long as you touch the seed when I activate the Spell. That’s one beauty of this power system—once you make contact, the knowledge comes to you naturally.”

“Of course,” His expression then turned sullen, “That’s also true for every sentient race, including the humans. And using that same understanding, they’ve devised countless ways to burn us down…”

“Back to the topic, Mahnaka.” Pinaka was in no mood to listen to how dangerous humans were. He had heard plenty the previous night.

Mahnaka exhaled, collecting himself. “Right. Sorry.”

He activated the Seed Overgrowth Spell, watching as Pinaka grasped the seed. As expected, the younger Elf instinctively understood the process.

‘As I thought… Pinaka is completely in tune with the Wood element. That’s why his thumb was so pretty.’

To the Elves, a beautifully shaped thumb showed great talent in manipulating Wood. Only the older generation, like Mahnaka, still knew of this superstition.

For a brief moment, Mahnaka hesitated.

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‘If it’s him…’ Fear gripped him as he began trembling subconsciously, ‘The Elves with such talent…I led them to their deaths before. Let’s not repeat those mistakes.’

Once upon a time, he trained elves just like Pinaka—brilliant and gifted. They had believed they were strong enough to escape. But they had failed. Every single one of them was sent to the potion factories, doomed to a fate worse than slavery.

His fingers curled into fists. ‘If I don’t teach him anything, he’ll survive.’

“I told you yesterday, right?” Pinaka expressed as if reading Mahnaka’s mind, “Teach me everything you know, Mahnaka, including your failures. I’ll then make a plan, and this time,”

He expressed confidently, “We won’t fail.”

Mahnaka’s throat felt heavy, but he still managed to let out, “…Yes! We must succeed, Pinaka.”

He then wiped his tears and stood up. His movements stiffened as he noticed a soldier watching them from a distance. “I can’t stay here for any longer. We’ll continue tomorrow.”

With that, he turned and walked away. Mahnaka was burdened with far more labor than the others as the oldest Elf in their hexagon. Once his farm work was done, he was taken to other plantations to be worked to the bone.

‘Six vertices in a hexagon. Six guards watching. Three of them always have a clear line of sight on me.’ Pinaka thought as he touched a seed and mimicked Mahnaka, watching a sapling sprout within ten seconds, ‘So, even with the lowest stats, it only takes ten seconds. That means this is the easiest task for an Elf.’

Pinaka began the process, noticing that the duration had reduced to nine seconds by the time he was done with his thirtieth seed.

‘I’m getting more used to the method.’

“Now I understand why the Humans have enslaved the Elves.” He muttered. A wheat seed took a week to sprout and become a seedling in ideal conditions. Under the hands of even a newborn Elf, that was reduced to a mere 10 seconds. This was his first attempt.

“With just a small group of Elves, enough food can be produced on a single farm to sustain an entire city,” Pinaka observed the ground, watching the soil lose its moisture as the seed absorbed it to become a seedling rapidly. “It’ll lose all its nutrients at this rate.”

“The soil will become worthless if we’re farming at such insane speeds…” He swerved his head to the sky, observed the World Tree silhouette afar, and then watched the soil recover at speeds visible to the naked eye, ‘So, that’s why.’

“No matter how much this land is abused, as long as the World Tree exists, the soil will recover its vitality and always be ideal for farming.” Pinaka let out a sigh and closed his eyes. He then subtly eyed the human guard, ‘What Mahnaka said makes sense. With just Wood, it’s impossible to overcome Fire in close combat.’

‘So, bows, crossbows, and ballistae are an option for ranged attacks. But,’ He pondered, ‘To make them effective in combat, I need to turn them into a Spell. But with all the checks, it’ll be impossible to hide this information from the Humans.’

At Level 1, an Elf could only control Wood. They cannot create matter—Wood. Therefore, if Wood is out of reach, all Level 1 Elves become helpless, ‘That’s the first disadvantage.’

“But it can be sorted,” He thought and focused on another seed, making its roots grow longer than usual, ‘As long as I remain careful, I can plant some seeds within the prison walls and grow them there.’

'As for battle Spells…' Pinaka’s thoughts trailed when noticed the soldier watching him shift his gaze to another Elf.

A plan took shape in his mind. 'If I practice and refine the technique until I can execute it in under a second… then repeat it 99 times without completing the final one, I’ll be just one step away from registering it as a Spell.'

A smirk tugged at his lips. 'All I’d need is a single final activation, and the Humans wouldn’t even notice.'

He exhaled slowly, suppressing the flicker of excitement. "It’s possible, as long as I don’t push my stats beyond what the Humans deem acceptable."

His eyes drifted toward the tunnel. 'The only real problem is whatever has been stopping every escape attempt so far.'

Absentmindedly, he touched his left cheek—then winced. The sting grounded him for a moment, but then—

A thought struck him.

'Wait… isn’t wood a hydrocarbon?'

His breathing hitched. His fingers curled as he stared at his own hand, realization dawning.

"Then…" His pulse quickened. His lips parted slightly, his eyes gleaming with a dangerous thrill.

"Aren’t I one, too?"

...

Gangnea Daily Article #6:

On Gangnea, your power is limited only by your creativity.