《Elven Uprising [Progression Fantasy Litrpg, Non Human MC]》 Chapter 001 | And Hence, It Begins In the beginning, as he drifted through the endless void, long before time was a concept, lived a Dragon named Bolomere. Bolomere knew nothing of his origins, but the longer he existed, the stronger he became. All around him stretched a vast, indifferent void. It neither welcomed nor rejected him; it simply existed without company. Bolomere wandered alone in that silent nothingness for ages until, at last, he decided to act. [In my name, I will create a vibrant world teeming with joy and life!] Bolomere reached into the darkness and shaped a land out of nothing. He named this new land Gangnea¡ªa continent floating freely in a cocoon mist, safely sheltered from the endless void. Bolomere then tasked himself with bringing life, harnessing the Wood Laws of the Void, and condensing them into an authority, a seed with limitless vitality. Wood of Authority¡ªWorld Tree! He planted it in the heart of the Gangnea Continent, watching with amusement as the World Tree took root. Its vitality began to spread, creating rich forests that sprouted into life. The forests flourished, and from the trees and the sunlight, the first people emerged¡ªThe Wood Race of Elves! The children of the woods, the Elves, lived long lives and remained duty-bound to flourish the land. Bolomere watched his creation¡ªthe Gangnea Continent¡ªgrow in size as the Elven Race wielded authority over Wood¡ªto create and control it. They expanded the forests, nurtured the trees, deepened the roots, and strengthened the trunks. For a million years, the world remained peaceful and steady. Bolomere¡ªthe Dragon who had created this world¡ªwas satisfied and rested for a long time, content with what he had made. But when he eventually woke, Bolomere saw that Gangnea had grown too vast for the Elves to tend alone. [The world needs more hands.] From the depths of the voice, Bolomere harnessed the Metal Laws and forged a thumping heart, burying it deep within the Gangnea Continent. Metal of Authority¡ªEarthen Heart! The Earthen Heart thumped with a pulse of its own, slowly changing the soil in its surroundings into metal and imbuing it with the pulse of life. In time, after being granted vitality from the World Tree, the first of these new beings emerged from beneath the earth¡ªcreatures forged from earth and ore. The Metal Race of Dwarves! Where the Elves nurtured the world, the Dwarves strengthened it. The Dwarves delved deep into mountains, shaping stone and metal and making the land firm and unyielding. Bolomere was pleased with the strength and balance they brought to his world. The Dragon''s satisfaction knew no bounds as he reached into the void again and again to pull out new essences and form a new life. In this way, he created sixteen races, each one different and each adding something unique to Gangnea. The final race he brought forth came from the essence of fire itself¡ªpeople who were quick, bright, and restless. The Fire Race of Humans! At first, humans were kind and compassionate. They understood the other races, and even though their lives were short, they were remarkably wise¡ªnearly as wise as the Elves, who had lived for a million years. Satisfied, Bolomere felt nothing was undone and entered a long era of slumber without any worries. But Bolomere was old by then, and he should have known better. The fire never stays quiet for long, and a race as restless as humans could not exist without consequences. Greed emerged while desire manifested itself like a plague. Wars became frequent, and the Race of Humans exploded with the volatility of fire, engulfing everyone in a sea of flames. They began to see only what they could take instead of what they could give. And that was the beginning of the end. ¡ªAn introductory note to the World Lore, The Oldest of the Elven Kind. ??????????? T''Hara Forest! The thick and choking scent of burning wood filled the air. Smoke curled between the towering trees, their once-vibrant leaves curling into black husks. T''Hara Forest, the heart of the Elven homeland, was burning. Located in the center of the Gangnea Continent, it spanned almost four million square kilometers in area and served as the home to the Elven Race. For centuries, this land had been a safe haven, nurtured by the roots of the World Tree, the heart of the Gangnea Continent. But now, it was scarred by fire and choked by war. A massive, three-kilometer-wide path of ash cut through the once-thriving forest, burned and torn apart by flame. At the end of the path stood the World Tree itself¡ªa towering giant stretching 8.8 kilometers into the sky, the very foundation of the Elven Race. At its foot was Tthranya, the Elven Capital City, currently aflame as an army of humans sauntered through it. Arrows rained upon them, killing a few but mainly fuelling the fire they launched, consuming the city. ¡°Damn Humans!¡± An Elven soldier, his body laced with glowing veins of green, used his authority to raise a wooden ballista from the ground and fired. The spear of timber skewered four human soldiers before they could react. He barely had time to reload before fire consumed him, reducing his form to ash. The human army marched forward in tight formation, protected by a wall of fire. Arrows that should have cut them down turned to ash before they could land. They outnumbered the Elves forty to one, and the battle was consuming the forest, leaving nothing but destruction in its wake. ¡°You are making a mistake, Humans,¡± A steady voice resounded through the battlefield, ¡°A grave one.¡± The Elven King remained motionless on his throne, woven from the living roots of the World Tree. His expression remained composed, but beneath them simmered a fury as deep as the earth. He had seen the first humans wander into elven lands¡ªlost, awestruck, humbled by the vastness of the forest. He had watched their cities rise, their empires expand, and their wars carve deep wounds into the world. And now, they had come to his doorstep, bearing wrath of fire, poised to strike at the heart of his people¡¯s home. Leading them was the Human King, a man in his sixties. His crown was produced from flames that burned eternally. His footsteps echoed as he sauntered through the wooden palace, leaving behind blackened scorch marks. ¡°A mistake?¡± He repeated, tilting his head slightly. ¡°No. This was always inevitable.¡± "The humans have run out of land to live on, " he continued, "My people have starved, waiting for salvation that would never come. We have outgrown the land you have permitted us. We have outgrown your mercy." The Elven King snorted, his voice thick with disdain. ¡°Don¡¯t shift the blame onto us,¡± he said, his eyes dark with centuries of frustration. ¡°I warned the Human Race¡ªtime and time again¡ªnot to let their numbers spiral out of control. You¡¯ve stripped your land bare, exhausted your resources, and now you come here to take what isn¡¯t yours. Even when a wise Human King heeds my warnings, it never lasts. The moment the crown changes hands, the cycle begins anew.¡± The Human King chuckled, unfazed. ¡°You may have a point,¡± he admitted with a shrug. ¡°But so what?¡± With a flick of his wrist, flames erupted from his very being, a violent inferno that engulfed the Elven Palace instantly. ¡°The Elves are no longer the center of the world,¡± he declared, his voice ringing over the roaring flames. ¡°From now on, humanity will dictate the laws of this world!¡± If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. A branch of wood cut through the fire. ¡°Not on my watch.¡± The Elven King emerged from the sea of flames, and the burn marks vanished in seconds as his body regenerated. With a flick of his wrist, the ground beneath them trembled. Thick roots burst from the earth, twisting and stabbing toward the Human King like spears. Boom! Explosions rippled through the battlefield as the Human King countered, carpeting the ground with firebombs. "Hahahaha!" The Human King''s laughter echoed through the burning ruins. Flames thrust out of his legs as he hovered in the sky. He then aimed the fire like a geyser and torched everything on the ground, including the Elven King and his attacks, "You''re strong, Elven King. But your wood is no match for my fire!" The Elven King gritted his teeth. Ginormous wooden structures sprouted from the ground and blocked the geyser of fire. Watching everything burn while hiding underneath a dome, the Elven King slumped. Pain shot through the Elven King¡¯s body¡ªa raw, searing agony he had not felt in centuries. His legs burned to the bone and healed spontaneously after. But the relentless fire came surging in, ever increasing. It wasn¡¯t enough. His trembling hand pressed into the ash beneath him. It was warm and soft. The remnants of his people, his home, scattered like dust on the wind. A faint touch. A thin root tendril, barely alive, curled against his palm. He inhaled sharply, his vision blurring. Slowly, reverently, he patted the root, his voice barely above a whisper. ¡°Forgive me, Mother.¡± The Elven King took a deep, shuddering breath. His body ached, his spirit wavered, but still, he straightened. ¡°I have failed you,¡± he murmured. His pride, so unshakable for centuries, now faltered. ¡°Your son could not serve you well.¡± His fingers tightened around the root, feeling its pulse. A final connection to the lifeblood of his people. His people were now nothing but embers in the wind. ¡°I know you have the power,¡± he whispered, his voice hoarse with desperation. ¡°Our ways¡ªour longevity-bound existence¡ªwill never overcome the relentless tide of the Humans. They are fleeting, yet they burn brighter than we ever could.¡± He bowed his head, forehead pressing into the ashen ground. ¡°So¡­ I beseech you. Only fire can fight fire.¡± Silence. And then¡ª A voice. Vast. Ancient. Patient. It echoed within him, threading through his very Soul. [I hear you, My Child.] The Elven King''s words stirred the World Tree. The roots of the World Tree dug deeper into the Gangnea Continent. A single tendril expanded outward and slithered through the voids, eventually reaching a blue planet to suck in the souls of every deceased human. Back in Tthranya, the World Tree responded. Translucent sacks grew from its branches, each holding a baby Elf floating in a strange liquid. These pods took twenty years to fully form before a child could be born. But one sack was different. A stolen soul was placed inside. The liquid rippled. The Elf inside twitched. His eyes snapped open. The first thing he saw was fire. Beyond the pod¡¯s barrier, flames burned through the ruins. And in the center of it all, an Elf stood¡ªhis body charring, healing, and burning again, over and over. The Elven King would soon turn to ash. ''Is this a¡­dream? I remember having dinner with my family¡­'' The baby Elf thought in a daze, feeling like it was in a nightmare as it watched the Elf King burning relentlessly. [You have died, my Child. I will now reincarnate you as my Child, an Elf!] ''Wait! Wait! WAIT!'' The baby Elf thought in a flurry, ''I died? What nonsense is that? I was having dinner with my family just moments ago¡­!'' As if ignoring its cries, the World Tree''s words continued to echo in the Soul''s consciousness. [In this world, the Authority of every Race can be expressed numerically. It will serve you well since, appearance-wise, it resembles the status window you''re familiar with.] ''Hello? Is this a prank? Hey!'' The baby Elf cried out loud, trying to speak but unable to. Its body didn''t move, forced to helplessly listen to the World Tree''s voice, ''How do I even know this voice is the World Tree''s? Shit! Nothing makes sense!'' [Dark times await the Elven Race, my Child. Fight and regain our honor. Do so, and I''ll reincarnate you on Earth and grant one wish of yours.] ''What kind of¡­ sick joke is this?'' The baby Elf stared blankly, rage surging through its being as it witnessed the Elven King burn nonstop for three days, swarmed by an army of humans before he collapsed as a charred corpse. ''I feel tired¡­I should get some sleep¡­!'' The baby Elf thought, ''This is just a nightmare. I probably drank too much yesterday. Everything will be back to usual once I am awake.'' ??????????? Year 0 marked the Elven Race''s downfall and the Human Race''s rise. All calendars were rewritten from that moment to center around humanity, erasing the old records. Tthranya, once the proud capital of the Elves, fell under human control. The history of the Elven people was burned, their survivors executed, and their once-great legacy wiped from existence. Newborn Elves were taken as slaves, raised under human rule, and domesticated for various purposes. What followed was an era of brutal change¡ªone defined by bloodshed and oppression. The Gangnea Continent¡¯s calendar was based on the Moons in the sky. Each year began with a single Moon, marking the first month. As time passed, more Moons appeared, reaching a peak of eight before fading again. Each month lasted forty-two days, shaping the rhythm of life in this new age. Year 19¡ª34th Day of the 8th Moon! The air was thick with the scent of wet wood and decay. A team of human soldiers climbed the spiraling wooden staircase wrapped around the colossal trunk of the World Tree, their boots thudding against the aged planks. One by one, they stopped beside the hanging sacks¡ªtranslucent cocoons where newborn Elves incubated. Their dull glow pulsed faintly as if resisting the inevitable. Tap. Tap. Tap. Gloved hands rapped against the sacks in a slow, deliberate rhythm. The hollow knocks echoed in the silence, swallowed by the dense forest. And then¡ª [Time to wake up, my Child. Pinaka.] The voice rippled through the sack, reverberating deep within the mind of the one inside. The membrane ruptured. A sharp inhale reverberated as a small, lean body tumbled onto the stairs, coated in the gelatinous fluid that had sustained him for years. Olive-green hair clung to his damp skin, his pointed ears twitching as the cold air sent a shiver down his spine. His mouth opened¡ªa cry of confusion, of panic¡ªbut before he could process what was happening, rough hands grabbed him. ¡°Sack it.¡± The command was short. Absolute. Strong hands yanked his arms. A burlap sack swallowed him whole, plunging him into muffled darkness. Then¡ªlight. The sack was torn open, and his body was dragged out, feet slipping against cold stone. A bucket of water was splashed on the body. Crack! A whip lashed across his back, burning white-hot pain into his flesh. He gasped and stumbled. ¡°Run.¡± He ran. "Teach that little brat some discipline, Mahnaka! If it¡¯s not obedient by dawn, you¡¯ll take the lashes instead!" A harsh, arrogant voice rang out from the corridor. The Elven child skidded to a stop when it saw another elf walking towards it. It was slightly taller, probably a few years older. One of its eyes was missing, and an X-shaped scar stretched across the bridge of its nose. It held out its right hand¡ªmissing a thumb. "Welcome to hell, little brother. Name¡¯s Mahnaka, the resident slave of this place." The newborn Elven child¡¯s head pounded, a wave of memories hitting him all at once. His breath hitched as realization struck. ¡®This isn''t a dream? Fuck!¡¯ Mahnaka waited patiently, his hand still outstretched. "Did the World Tree give you a name?" "Pinaka," the Child muttered, hesitantly gripping Mahnaka¡¯s arm as he pulled himself up. His gaze drifted to Mahnaka¡¯s missing thumb, and curiosity got the better of him. "What¡­happened?" Mahnaka¡¯s eyes softened as he stared at Pinaka¡¯s intact thumb. "It¡¯s beautiful," he murmured. "You¡¯re going to be a great archer one day¡ªI can tell just by looking at it." His voice grew thick with emotion. "Cherish it while you still can. Because¡­" ¡°AARGHHH!¡± An hour later, Pinaka was strapped tightly to a cold stone table, a gag stuffed in his mouth. A middle-aged man wearing a stained apron raised a heavy cleaver above his head. With a sickening force, he brought it down. The right thumb flew off. ¡°A slave doesn¡¯t need a bow,¡± the man muttered, flashing his gold-rimmed buck teeth as he chuckled. He grabbed Pinaka¡¯s left hand, fingers twitching in resistance. Tightening the strap, he pressed the blade against the skin and¡ª ¡°Don¡¯t be scared now,¡± he cooed, forcing the thumb back, ready to slice. ¡°Just think of it like pulling out a strand of hair¡­¡± "GAHHHH!" ¡°GAHHHH!¡± TCH! Pinaka flinched, jerking the table. The cleaver slipped, making the man miss his mark. "Now look what you¡¯ve done," he clicked his tongue in annoyance. He studied the half-severed thumb, clicking his tongue. "I have to cut it again," he sighed, shaking his head. Then, reassuringly, he continued, "Now, don¡¯t move this time. Good¡­ harness that fear¡­ stay still¡­ That¡¯s it¡­ that¡¯s¡­ IT!" CLANG! Pinaka¡¯s vision blurred as waves of pain crashed into him. Blood poured freely, turning his world hazy. His breath hitched. His mind screamed. ¡®This is¡­ hell!¡¯ His thoughts spiraled as his body trembled from blood loss. ¡®Fucking HELL!¡¯ I wanted to believe this was a dream¡­ fuck that¡ªa nightmare. His tired eyes locked onto the middle-aged man, who casually picked up the severed thumbs and dropped them into a glass jar. He swirled the container, admiring his work like a fine specimen. Pinaka¡¯s lips twitched. A twisted smile stretched across his face. ¡®Elf? World Tree? Fate?¡¯ ¡®I don¡¯t give a damn!¡¯ His fingers curled into weak fists, his bloodied hands shaking. ¡®You took my thumbs?¡¯ ¡®Now, it¡¯s personal.¡¯ Gangnea Daily ¨C Article #1 The World Tree stands at a staggering 8.8 kilometers in height (5.468 Freedom Units for the Bald Eagles out there), with its roots plunging to an average depth of 74 kilometers (or 46 miles for our imperial-measuring overlords). Gangnea Daily never misses a day¡ªso hit that subscribe button for more essential world knowledge and tree facts! ??? Chapter 002 | A Mere Resource Point Mahnaka paced anxiously across the hectare of farmland, his body flinching every time Pinaka''s screams rang through the air. A pang of sympathy and anxiety struck his nerves. ''I''m sorry! It will hurt, but you must bear with it. There''s nothing you can do. Please, don''t die¡­'' The screams cut off abruptly. He turned around in a panic. ''No! Did he resist?¡¯ ''They will kill him if he does that¡­Dammit!'' Mahnaka stared at the mortar-covered tunnel leading into a concrete facility. Just twenty meters ahead was the room where the balding middle-aged man would remove Pinaka''s thumbs. A sprint, and he''ll reach it in enough time to stop the man. ''I can kill the human¡­kill?'' "Ha¡­Mahnaka, you idiot!" His legs locked in place, his throat burning to scream, and tears streamed down his face as his feet didn''t budge, "Move, you idiot. Do¡­something. At least this time..." "Anything!" ¡ªThud! Crash! Moments later, two Humans dragged a bloodied Elf forward and dumped him at Mahnaka''s feet. One of them jabbed a finger at him. ¡°You! Get him ready to work by dawn.¡± A sharp crack split the air as a whip lashed the ground, making Mahnaka flinch. Unsympathetic, the two men turned and strode to their quarters. "Taking care of these damn Elves is tiring," the man muttered, loosening his collar. "Prideful, aren''t they, for mere slaves?" His colleague snorted. "Pride? They¡¯re born with it. But give them a few months of ¡®education,¡¯ and they¡¯ll be obedient little farmers." He let out a harsh chuckle, and the other man joined in, their laughter echoing down the corridor. Mahnaka stood frozen like a statue, unable to budge until he heard the Humans'' conversation subside. Only after they were out of earshot did he hurriedly crouch to grab the wounded Elf before him, "Pinaka! Are you alright? Stay with me!" "I''ll patch you up¡ª" His words stopped. Despite his body convulsing in agony, Pinaka¡¯s eyes¡­they were cold¡ªa killer¡¯s eyes. Tears had streamed down the cheeks, veins bulged, and lips cracked from being bitten raw. Weak yet fuelled with rage, Pinaka''s eyes focused on Mahnaka as he extended his bloody hands and clasped his bloodied fingers around Mahnaka''s neck. He leaned in closer, his body swayed from exhaustion, whispering, "You''ve been here¡­for a while, right?" Mahnaka nodded, too stunned to speak. Pinaka let out a weak grunt and then collapsed. "Then...tell me everything about this cursed world!" ??????????? "The World Tree must have told you this." It was late afternoon as Mahnaka cleaned and bandaged Pinaka''s wounds, "We¡­died on Earth and were reincarnated here by the World Tree." "Fucking hell!" Pinaka snorted, then sucked in a sharp breath in pain right after as he clutched his hands and stared at the stumps where his thumbs once used to be, "Are there no damn painkillers here?" "There used to be plenty." Mahnaka shook his head. "But after our defeat, the Humans took control of all our medicinal herbs. As Elves, we''re nothing but slaves now." "I''m a fucking human!" Pinaka grunted and tried to stand but hadn''t recovered enough to move. His breath came ragged as he glared at Mahnaka. "You''re from Earth, too, right? We''re humans!" This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version. Mahnaka met his gaze, unyielding. "You''re an Elf now." His voice was steady, final. "And here, humanity is OUR enemy." A heavy silence lingered before Mahnaka finally spoke again. "I was born on the fourth day after the Elven Race fell. That makes me one of the oldest slaves at this place." Pinaka scoffed. "Guess you''ve made peace with being a slave." His words were sharp, bitter¡ªbut almost as soon as they left his mouth, he clenched his jaw and sighed. "Damn it¡­ sorry. That was uncalled for." "That¡¯s¡­ more kindness than I¡¯m used to here." Mahnaka smiled in gratitude and exhaustion, "I almost forgot what it felt like." He reached for a small pouch hidden under the tilled ground and pulled out a vial of dull green liquid. "I made this from the Agri crops here. It¡¯s not much, but it should dull the pain." Once he had finished dressing the wounds, he said, "I''ll explain using Earth terms as simply as I can." "This world is a vast, singular continent called Gangnea. Regarding landmass, it''s about the same size as Earth." He paused and then added, "According to its legends, a Dragon named Bolomere created this world and birthed sixteen sentient races¡ªeach with a unique authority." Mahnaka reached down, brushing his fingers against a blade of grass. "The Elves hold dominion over wood, while our enemy, the Humans, wield fire." "What type of authority is it?" Pinaka stared wide-eyed upon seeing Mahnaka grab a long strand of grass and weave it into a glove. "There are four stages," Mahnaka said. "Control, Creation, Relic, and Divine." He held up the woven glove. "This is Control. We can command the Wood element at will. That is Level 1." "Level 2 is Creation. Such Elves can create Wood." He explained in a solemn tone. Pinaka hesitated, "So they... grow trees fast or something?" "No." Mahnaka said in all seriousness, "They create it." He let the words settle before adding, "At Level 2, every Race can create their respective element. It¡¯s like holding a fragment of a god within us." "Suppose I reach Level 2," Pinaka said. "Can I just spam and create as much wood as I want?" "Yes," Mahnaka nodded, "When too much matter is created, the Gangnea Continent expands to accommodate it. That¡¯s how it¡¯s been growing since the beginning." "Then, why are we in this mess?" Pinaka asked. ¡°Elves were the first Race on Gangnea. And now? We¡¯re slaves. We lost the war and became nothing more than resource points¡ªfarming food, grains, and plant produce for Humans." Mahnaka let out a bitter sigh, "Wood fuels fire. And that''s why we can never win against Humans. We lack the numbers, strength, and elemental advantage to fight back." Pinaka''s expression darkened. "Then, what¡¯s the World Tree¡¯s goal?" "Exactly as it said." Mahnaka nodded. "It wants us to restore the Elven Race''s former glory. If we succeed, it''ll send us to Earth." "Does it truly have such power?" Pinaka wondered. "If the World Tree can''t, it''ll call upon Bolomere. Control and Creation, remember?" Mahnaka added thoughtfully, "I think Bolomere might have authority over space-time, so it shouldn''t be impossible to send us to our past on Earth. And if anyone knows where he is¡­ it¡¯s the World Tree." "One last question," Pinaka said after a moment of thought, "What about a peace talk? We used to be Humans. Can''t we communicate with the Humans of this world? The language isn¡¯t from Earth, but we understand it. And everyone here seems to speak the same one." Mahnaka sighed and stared at the sky, noticing it was evening. He got up and motioned for Pinaka to follow him, saying, "It''s better to show it to you firsthand." "Are we allowed to move as we please?" Pinaka glanced around warily. There was too much he didn¡¯t know about this twisted world he¡¯d been thrown into without consent. And Mahnaka¡­ he was the only other Elf in sight. That didn¡¯t mean he could be trusted. "It''s almost curfew," Mahnaka muttered as he walked into the mortar tunnel. His face gradually lost color while his body occasionally trembled. The first few rooms were where Pinaka had been scrubbed and then had his thumbs cut off. The air was damp and heavy with silence. The corridor stretched for hundreds of meters before opening into a massive cylindrical prison, its walls lined with narrow cells¡ªcramped, dark dwellings for Elves. Then he saw it. The moment he stepped inside, Pinaka froze. An Elf hung nailed to the central pillar. His chest had been split open, a jagged fang buried deep in the wound. The Elf stared at them, lips moving soundlessly. Pinaka didn¡¯t need to read lips to understand. "He¡­lp¡­me!" Mahnaka exhaled shakily. "He¡¯s the latest one who admitted he was from Earth." His voice was heavy with despair. "These Humans don¡¯t care about us, Pinaka." He looked up at the dying Elf, his fists clenched. "To them, we¡¯re nothing more than a resource point." ... Gangnea Daily Article #2: An Elf takes a century to reach adulthood and typically averages a lifespan of 4000 years. Their life expectancy though, was another matter altogether, dropping to a mere 20 years now. Chapter 003 | Status Screen The crack of a whip split the air. ¡°Get in line!¡± The command rang through the dimming light as a lean, middle-aged man lashed out with a Fire Whip. Every strike against the stone floor sent embers scattering like fireflies. He stood at the tunnel¡¯s entrance, clad in chainmail with plate armor covering his arms and legs. His dull-red beard bristled from the heat of the whip, but he didn¡¯t move. His reddish eyes narrowed as he watched the Elves hurry inside, his face twisting with disgust. "Late again!" His glare fell upon the last two stragglers. "Curfew is before sunset. You missed it!" ¡ªSmack! The Fire Whip snapped against their legs, leaving behind a seared mark. One Elf let out a strangled groan, clutching his leg, while the other gritted his teeth, his body already marred by older scars, and neither dared to protest. ¡°Kkeuk!¡± The two Elves clutched their mouths as a whip mark seared their legs. The pain was unbearable, but judging by a few more similar marks across their bodies, this wasn¡¯t the first time they were getting punished. ¡°Get in line!¡± Rachad snorted as he strode through the tunnel, his gaze sweeping over the line of gathered Elves. His reddish eyes flicked from one trembling figure to the next¡ªuntil they landed on Pinaka. Unlike the others, Pinaka bore no burn marks. For a moment, Rachad frowned. Then, he noticed the blood-soaked bandages where the Elf¡¯s thumbs should have been. His lips curled into a slow, cruel smirk. "Another baby Elf has joined us." Pinaka stood sixth in line. Mahnaka had pulled him in early, hoping to keep him away from the Fire Whip. Standing just ahead, Mahnaka tried to stay still, but his body wouldn¡¯t listen. His shoulders tensed, hands twitching at his sides. As Rachad got closer, the tremor in his stance became impossible to ignore. ¡®Please, go away! We didn¡¯t do anything wrong!¡¯ Mahnaka cried inwardly, his stomach churning while his scars acted up in response to the heat radiating off the Fire Whip. "Name?" Rachad ignored Mahnaka and turned to Pinaka, scowling as he had to tilt his head slightly upward. At 155 centimeters, Rachad was short¡ªeven newborn Elves stood taller. Pinaka, just born, had already reached 165 centimeters, surpassing him by a full ten centimeters. The height difference grated on Rachad, but Pinaka¡¯s silence set him off. Without warning, the Fire Whip lashed out¡ªcrack!¡ªsearing a red-hot mark across Pinaka¡¯s cheek. "Are you deaf, you little runt?" Rachad growled. "Or do you think you''re too good to answer me?" ¡°Argh!¡± Pinaka screamed and collapsed on the ground. His hand shot to his cheek, where raw, scorched flesh sizzled against his palm. The pain was blinding. ¡°He¡¯s named Pinaka.¡± Mahnaka burst out and hurriedly crouched to assist Pinaka. He turned around and smashed his head on the floor, ¡°Please forgive him, my Lord¡ªhe doesn¡¯t know!" Rachad sneered. "Do you take me for a fool? You think I don¡¯t know?" The Fire Whip cracked again¡ªonce, twice¡ªsearing into Mahnaka¡¯s back. Seeing the latter trembling like a withered leaf, Rachad stared at the lock of luscious emerald hair covering Mahnaka¡¯s head, feeling irritated as he grabbed them and pulled fiercely, "Covering for the new kid, are we?" With a cruel chuckle, Rachad twisted his grip, forcing Mahnaka onto one knee¡ªhis head bowed just below Rachad¡¯s line of sight. ¡°Did you forget your past, Mahnaka?¡± Rachad grabbed Mahnaka¡¯s chin, forcing him to face the Elf nailed to the pillar. He said nothing¡ªjust let the sight speak for itself¡ªbefore shoving him away and resuming his slow, deliberate march down the tunnel. ¡°G-Get up,¡± Mahnaka crouched beside Pinaka. ¡°You¡¯re bleeding¡­¡± Pinaka¡¯s hands hovered as he scanned Mahnaka¡¯s wounds. ¡°It''s Nothing."Mahnaka said and turned around, rejoining the line, ¡°Just stay quiet and do what the others do.¡± Pinaka swallowed hard but nodded, falling in line as the procession moved forward. The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. ??????????? Beneath the looming pillar, a fully armored soldier stared ahead. ¡°Name?¡± The first Elf in line stiffened and saluted. "Nunaka. Two tonnes of rice harvested today, sir!" A massive, lumbering beast stepped forward, pushing a stone cart piled high with harvested grain. The creature towered over them, its five-meter frame casting an imposing shadow. Its thick, rhino-like hide was scarred from past battles, each mark a silent testament to a lost war. It was an Ogre of the Stone Race¡ªonce fierce warriors, now reduced to mere laborers. Unlike the Elves, they had not been wiped out. Instead, the victors had tamed them, shackling their strength for Human use. The Ogre stopped before the soldier, who methodically inspected the quality of the rice before making a checkmark on his list. The line moved forward. The soldier¡¯s eyes narrowed as he barked, "Status." Nunaka nodded stiffly, and a glowing green hologram appeared before him. It was a Status Screen. The moment it appeared, Pinaka¡¯s breath caught¡ªhe could see it. His eyes darted around, searching for doubt, but there was none. Everyone saw it. His stomach twisted. ¡®Dammit! No secrets, then!¡¯ The soldier¡¯s frown deepened. "Your Weight Factor is up by one unit." Nunaka stiffened. "I¡­ I apologize, sir." The soldier¡¯s gaze lingered on him¡ªcold, assessing. Then he gave a slow nod. "It¡¯s still within limits." A pause. "But if it rises again, you¡¯ll be transferred to the potion factory." ¡°Y-Yes, I understand.¡± Nunaka stammered and then saluted, ¡°Glory to the Human Empire!¡± ¡°Come here,¡± The soldier beckoned for Nunaka to come closer. He then grabbed Nunaka''s chin, inhaling deeply near his neck, nostrils flaring before he scribbled something onto his notepad. ¡°Alright, you may return to your cell.¡± ¡°T-Thank you, My Lord!¡± Nunaka bowed without any hint of resistance and dragged his limping self to a cell on the ground floor. The prison stretched ten stories high¡ªrows upon rows of cages, each housing a reincarnated soul. One after another, the Elves in the line performed the same actions as Nunaka and relayed their completed tasks while an Ogre hauled their respective harvest for the soldier to check. ¡°Say ''Status,'' and it¡¯ll appear,¡± Mahnaka leaned in slightly, his voice barely above a whisper, and went to report to the soldier. Soon, it was Pinaka¡¯s turn. The soldier stared at him and judged that Pinaka was a newborn. He eyed Mahnaka once and asked Pinaka, ¡°Did that Elf teach you the basics?¡± ¡°Yes,¡± Pinaka nodded, trying his best to mask his emotions, ¡®Dammit! I should be obedient for the time being. It¡¯s foolish to act out without knowing everything.¡¯ "Proud little thing, aren¡¯t you?" He tilted his head, scrutinizing Pinaka¡¯s expression. "But at least you¡¯re not as mouthy as most newborns. Let¡¯s see if that lasts." Then, with an impatient wave of his hand, he ordered, "Status." Pinaka inhaled sharply, remembering Mahnaka¡¯s words. He whispered the command. A flickering green hologram materialized before his eyes, its translucent glow casting faint shadows across his face. Lines of glowing text scrolled across its surface¡ªstrange, unfamiliar symbols he understood effortlessly. He blinked. How? The language was alien, yet its meaning slid seamlessly into his mind as if he¡¯d always known it. ¡®A side effect of my rebirth¡­? Or does every living thing inherit this knowledge?¡¯ [Name: Pinaka] [Race: Elf] [Authority: Wood]] [Control Factor: 1] [Weight Factor: 1] [Volume Factor: 1] [Range Factor: 1] [Speed Factor: 1] [Spell: -] "Step forward." Pinaka obeyed, keeping his expression neutral as the soldier scanned his Status Screen. The man sniffed, then frowned slightly. "You haven¡¯t eaten yet?" "No," Pinaka answered, forcing himself to stand still. The soldier barely glanced at him. "You¡¯ll get food in your cell. Move along. Next to Mahnaka." ¡°Yes,¡± Pinaka nodded, puzzled by the entire exchange. He didn¡¯t act out and instead kept to himself. His head swam, his body teetering on the edge of collapse. His cheek burned where the fire had licked it, and his hands¡ªwhere his thumbs had been¡ªthrobbed with a dull, crawling pain. Too much had happened. Too fast. He still wasn¡¯t entirely there. ¡®Blasted hell!¡¯ He swore in his head and forced his legs to move, climbing the stairs to the fourth floor. Pinaka¡¯s gaze darted around the prison. His exhaustion faded for just a second as something caught his attention. One soldier. A single guard. He blinked, disbelief crawling up his spine. More than a hundred Elves packed this place. Outnumbering the guards a hundred to one. And yet, they obeyed. No resistance. No fight. No desperate whispers of rebellion. Why? His fists clenched as he stepped closer to Mahnaka¡¯s cell, lowering his voice. "What¡­ is the deal with this place?" Mahnaka didn¡¯t look at him. Instead, he reached into his sleeve, pulling out a small salve tin. "Wait until the soldier is gone," he muttered. "Then you¡¯ll understand why we don¡¯t fight." ¡­ Gangnea Daily Article #3 When manifested, every living being that isn¡¯t blind can see the Status Screen of the manifested individual. There are no secrets on Gangnea! Chapter 004 | Resolve Pinaka frowned. His eyes flicked to the Status Screen glowing before him, its dim green light cutting through the darkness. Then¡ª "Don¡¯t!¡± The whisper slithered through the silence, sharp with panic. Pinaka reacted instantly, willing the screen away. Darkness swallowed his cell once more. He exhaled slowly, his pulse pounding in his ears. ''There¡¯s no one to operate the door.'' He had walked inside willingly. Nothing could stop him from walking out, and it was the same for everyone. Yet, no one was moving. No one even spoke of it. ¡®Why?¡¯ His gaze slid to the stone wall separating him from Mahnaka. ¡®The moment I brought out my Status Window, he panicked.¡¯ Shaking his head, Pinaka observed the prison cell. Cold, unyielding stone surrounded him, its rough texture like unpolished granite. Three meters long. One meter wide. Just enough space to lie down, nothing more. The ceiling stretched high¡ªfar enough to taunt him with the illusion of space, yet still a cage of stone. The steel door loomed before him, its lock operated by a ladle system embedded in the wall¡ªjust out of reach, ensuring prisoners had no control. The design was familiar¡ªsomething from Earth¡¯s preindustrial prisons. But unlike those, this one had a glaring flaw. ''There are no guards.'' His brow furrowed. ¡®That soldier who checked my Status Screen. The whip bastard. They were the only ones he¡¯d seen. Too few humans. Too many prisoners.¡¯ ''Why?'' His thoughts flickered back¡ªto the two maids who scrubbed him raw, the ones who dragged him here, and finally, the oily middle-aged bastard who severed his thumbs like it was routine. Too few humans. And yet, they had complete control. ''Wood, fire¡­'' Every Elf had authority over Wood. If that were true, revolt should have been easy. Breaking free should have been a matter of will. ''Then why hadn¡¯t anyone tried?'' His gaze slid to the stone wall separating him from Mahnaka. ''The moment I brought out my Status Window, he panicked.'' He let out a slow breath and shut his eyes. Memories from Earth surfaced. His family. Their faces, their voices, their laughter¡ªall so vivid. Except their names. His fists clenched. ¡®What kind of sick setup is this?¡¯ He felt burning anger and a wildfire of confusion. This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version. The cells also grew colder, causing his body to shiver gradually. ¡®Do I have to spend every night like this?¡¯ Then, he stared at his body, finally realizing what had been amiss all along, ¡®My clothes! I¡¯ve been naked all along!¡¯ He then understood that despite hailing from Earth as a human, there had been a slight shift in his common sense and values. Moving about naked would have bothered him on Earth, but here, it felt natural¡ªtoo natural. And when he lowered his gaze further, he observed something even more puzzling as he stared at his groin and found¡­nothing. ¡°It¡¯s not¡­there,¡± He muttered, flustered for a moment when a snicker leaked out from the cell on the left. ¡°The youngest noticed it pretty soon,¡± The voice was snarky, carrying weight to it, unlike the other Elves he had heard until now. ¡°We don¡¯t have it, kid.¡± The voice continued, utterly unbothered, ¡°Elves don¡¯t have reproductive organs.¡± A pause. Then, with a hint of wry amusement¡ª ¡°We¡¯re plants that can walk around.¡± ¡°What do you mean by that?¡± Pinaka asked and instinctively trained his ear to the right, hoping to see what Mahnaka would say in response. However, Mahnaka remained silent while the snarky voice responded. ¡°The soldier has left, Mahnaka. You can stop cowering now.¡± ¡°¡­He''s right, Pinaka.¡± A defeated voice resounded from the cell on the right as Pinaka heard Mahnaka speak, ¡°Elves aren¡¯t male or female. We don¡¯t reproduce. We¡¯re spawned by the World Tree.¡± "Answering your earlier question," Mahnaka sighed, "the soldier sniffed us to check if we¡¯d eaten in secret." Pinaka frowned. Sniffed? "Unlike Humans, our excretory and perspiration systems are one." The snarky voice cut in. "Our sweat is our shit." ¡°We live on plant-based food, and our bodies digest it with near-perfect efficiency. We don¡¯t need to excrete solids¡ªwaste is expelled through sweat." Mahnaka didn¡¯t mind the snarky voice and explained honestly, "Our sweat has a fruity scent when we¡¯ve eaten. That¡¯s how the soldiers know. If we sneak food while working, they¡¯ll smell it on us." "They only let us eat at night, in our cells, after curfew," Mahnaka added. "It¡¯s how they control our intake." The snarky voice scoffed. "They don¡¯t want us getting stronger. If we bulk up, we might try to break out." ¡°Humans don¡¯t fear us, Zetaka.¡± Mahnaka said, ¡°I witnessed them burning our Elf King to ashes. No matter how strong we become, Wood cannot overcome Fire.¡± There was a tense pause. Then Zetaka¡¯s voice sharpened. "Speaking from experience, Mahnaka? You failed once, so what? Don¡¯t dump your fears on me." Mahnaka inhaled shakily. "...It wasn¡¯t just once or twice. I tried eight times." Silence hung heavy between them. Pinaka closed his eyes, shutting out the muffled cries from Mahnaka¡¯s cell. He focused his hearing, tuning into the fragmented whispers between other captives. Patterns emerged. Newborns like me are desperate to escape. The older ones, like Mahnaka, have given up. A memory surfaced. ¡°Dad, I¡¯m pregnant,¡± his daughter announced over dinner, squeezing her husband¡¯s hand. ¡°You¡¯re going to be a grandpa!¡± ¡°¡­Really?¡± A man in his late fifties froze. Then, laughter burst from his chest, unrestrained and full of warmth. ¡°Hahaha!¡± He shot up from his seat, pulling his daughter and son-in-law into a tight embrace. ¡°That¡¯s¡­ that¡¯s the second-best news I¡¯ve ever heard.¡± The first is obviously when your mother gave birth to you. His gaze flickered to the framed photo of his late wife. ¡®We''ve been through so much, Dear. But we made it. We¡¯re finally happy.¡¯ The next instant he was back to preset as Pinaka¡¯s eyes shot open fiercely and glared at the ceiling of his cell, clutching his head in pain, ¡®I can¡¯t remember past that point. Everything was finally on the right track, and then you say I died? Just like that?¡¯ ¡®When I was FINALLY HAPPY?¡¯ His expression grew fierce, ¡®In a few more months, I would have met my grandchild! What kind of sick joke is this?¡¯ ¡°I¡¯m returning home, no matter what.¡± He muttered and clutched the steel rods forming his cell¡¯s door, making his mind soon after as he walked out, observing his surroundings brimming with darkness, felt around the wall, and entered Mahnaka¡¯s cell. ¡°Please help me, Mahnaka.¡± His voice was fierce but respectful, ¡°I don¡¯t have time to rot in a fucking prison.¡± He met Mahnaka¡¯s hazy breaths and spoke the words that would decide everything. ¡°Teach me everything related to our Authority.¡± ¡­ Gangnea Daily Article 4: The Human Race¡¯s history spans over 8000 years in Gangnea and was fully witnessed by the last Elf King. Chapter 005 | Factors And Spells ¡°Get up! Get out!¡± The soldier from last night stomped through the corridor, slamming a steel rod against the prison doors. The clangs echoed through the chamber, rattling the iron bars and jarring the Elves awake. ¡ªClang! Pinaka was already awake, but he lay motionlessly as he eyed the soldier who bashed his cell door, ¡®I barely got around five hours of sleep.¡¯ With a scowl, he propped himself up and began to prepare for the day, ¡®Curfew at sunset, food near midnight. That bastard claps ten times¡ªreach him before the last one, or starve.¡¯ His stomach twisted at the thought. Sleep or food¡ªcan¡¯t have both. Worst of all, Mahnaka told him the soldier loved to play with time. Some days, he was early, and others, he was late. With no way to predict the guard¡¯s mood, the Elves had no option but to remain awake in their cells. They were only provided food once a day, so they couldn¡¯t afford to miss it. ¡®Malnutrition. Sleep deprivation. Obedience beaten into us.¡¯ Pinaka clenched his fists. The soldier moved on, banging another door, the metallic clangs ringing in his ears. He then stared at Mahnaka, recalling their conversation from the previous night. ¡®This guy was competent once, but after nearly twenty years in this hellhole, he¡¯s just a shadow of his former self.¡¯ With a quiet sigh, he stepped out of his cell, joining the group of Elves assembling on the ground floor. Another round of tests awaited them. First was a weight test, where they had to step up on a scale. [Pinaka: 55 Kilogram] The soldier scribbled it down and turned to the Elf next in line. He eyed the Elf from head to toe and motioned for the latter to get on the scale, ¡°Next!¡± The second test was the same as the night before¡ªa sniffing test. But there was one difference here: The soldier grabbed Pinaka¡¯s hand and rubbed it with a paper towel, checking for cleanliness. The Elves were allowed to take a bath only once a week. So, for the rest of the time, they weren¡¯t supposed to be clean. Indeed, there was a faint layer of dirt on Pinaka, which the soldier noted. If an Elf consumes food and takes a bath, they wouldn¡¯t emit the fruity scent anymore. So, these tests were being conducted daily. Any attempt to train or bulk up would show in their weight. By taking these measurements daily, the Humans kept track of how the Elves fared, ensuring none tried to grow stronger and stage a revolt. After the three tests¡ªweight, sniffing, and paper towel¡ªthe final was the most revealing: Status Screen. ¡°Status?¡± The soldier asked. Pinaka muttered the word, and a green hologram flickered into existence before him. The soldier glanced at the numbers, scribbled them down, and issued his assignment. ¡°You¡¯re in charge of wheat. Get Mahnaka to teach you the necessary Spell. You¡¯re required to produce a tonne of wheat every six days.¡± ¡°Yes,¡± Pinaka copied the mannerisms of other Elves and saluted him just like the others did. He then walked through the tunnel and stood at its end, watching Mahnaka arrive soon after. This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience. ??????????? ¡°Come, I¡¯ll teach you a Spell,¡± Mahnaka said, leading him forward. As they stepped onto the farmland, he gestured around. ¡°The walls are in the shape of a hexagon, and its interior is subdivided into six pieces of land, each a hectare in area.¡± He nodded toward a small tower perched on the wall. ¡°Every vortex of this hexagon has a small tower where a soldier sits inside and observes three hexagons. They monitor our actions while we¡¯re on the farm.¡± ¡°You talked to Zetaka yesterday. He¡¯s part of our hexagon, too.¡± Mahnaka stepped onto the field, eyeing a lone blade of grass. ¡°You understand our power system, right?¡± ¡°Control Factor determines how many pieces of wood I can manipulate,¡± Pinaka said. ¡°Correct.¡± Mahnaka plucked the blade of grass between his fingers. ¡°Our power works through contact. Even if I grab two blades simultaneously, I can only control one because my Control Factor is just one.¡± Pinaka nodded as Mahnaka continued. ¡°Next is Weight Factor, which means you can control a kilogram of wood.¡± Mahnaka played around with the strand of grass, ¡°For every unit increase in your Weight Factor, you can control an extra kilogram of wood.¡± ¡°Now, this is where you need to be careful,¡± Mahnaka warned, rolling the blade of grass between his fingers. With a flick, it reshaped into a delicate wooden cube, each side exactly a meter long. ¡°A Volume Factor of one lets you manipulate a cubic meter of wood. But increasing it isn¡¯t always a good idea.¡± Pinaka frowned. ¡°Isn¡¯t more always better?¡± Mahnaka shook his head. ¡°Not in this case. Wood density typically ranges from 300 to 900 kilograms per cubic meter. If your Weight Factor isn¡¯t high enough, all you¡¯re doing is controlling more volume without adding strength. You won¡¯t be able to compress it.¡± Pinaka¡¯s expression shifted as the logic clicked. ¡°So, if my Volume Factor reaches two, I¡¯d need a Weight Factor of at least a thousand before I could start compressing again.¡± ¡°Exactly.¡± Mahnaka nodded. ¡°Compression is what turns wood into a weapon. The denser it gets, the deadlier it becomes. That¡¯s why we always keep our Volume Factor at one¡ªany more, and you¡¯re just stretching yourself thin.¡± ¡°Next is Range Factor,¡± Mahnaka condensed the cube of grass into a blade of grass and then extended it like a needle towards Pinaka, ¡°It determines how far you can extend the wood from your point of contact. Since you need to stay in touch with it to use your power, the Range Factor is measured from where you¡¯re holding the wood.¡± Pinaka studied the extending needle. ¡°So, if my Range Factor is one, I can stretch it up to a meter away from my body?¡± ¡°Exactly.¡± Mahnaka nodded. ¡°And then there''s the Speed Factor¡ªit dictates how fast you can reshape wood per second. Think of it like moving a point on a block of wood by a meter in a single second.¡± To demonstrate, the needle in Mahnaka¡¯s hand shrank instantly into a tiny sphere. A moment later, it stretched out again, extending a full meter toward Pinaka, stopping just before his face. ¡°By combining your Weight and Volume Factors, you can apply your Range Factor to every wood particle. You can reshape a block of wood into any form you want. But remember¡ªno part of it can change size by more than a meter per second.¡± Pinaka absorbed the information before asking, ¡°How do I train my Stats?¡± Mahnaka smirked and pointed at him. ¡°Keep playing with wood, and you¡¯ll feel your Stats improving. It¡¯ll come naturally, like breathing, once you touch a piece of wood.¡± His expression grew serious. ¡°You¡¯ll also sense when you¡¯re about to gain a Stat, so be careful. Stop practicing the moment your Volume Factor is about to increase. Otherwise, you¡¯ll lose control of compression, and your strength will be wasted on dead weight.¡± ¡°Got it,¡± Pinaka nodded as he watched Mahnaka play around with the grass strand for a few minutes. He then asked, ¡°Now, about the Spell¡­?¡± ¡°Yes,¡± Mahnaka nodded, growing serious as he said, ¡°This is where we need to be careful, Pinaka.¡± ¡°The moment you learn a Spell, it¡¯ll be recorded on your Status Screen.¡± He paused before adding in a solemn tone, ¡°And the moment you learn a combat-related Spell, the Humans will kill you.¡± Pinaka¡¯s brows furrowed. ¡°No matter how game-like this power system seems, it¡¯s not a game, right? There aren¡¯t spell books to learn from¡ª¡± He stopped, narrowing his eyes. ¡°Wait¡­ are there spell books?¡± Mahnaka shook his head. ¡°No. But you can create Spells however you want.¡± With a sigh, he pointed at the grass needle, ¡°If you can create this within a second and repeat it a hundred times, it¡¯ll be registered as a Spell. From that point onwards, you can create it without any brainpower expenditure.¡± ¡°A Spell only requires a thought to activate, and it manifests in one-tenth of a second.¡± Mahnaka muttered, ¡°That¡¯s what makes Spells so dangerous. That¡¯s why the Humans fear them.¡± ... Gangnea Daily Article #5 Every individual can have a total of 16 Spells. Records hypothesized that¡¯s per the 16 Sentient Races on Gangnea. Chapter 006 | A Wood Genius ¡°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¡ªgoosebumps 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. ¡ªThump! 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¡ªpure 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¡ªonce 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. The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement. ¡®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¡ªbrilliant 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¡ªWood. 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¡ªthen winced. The sting grounded him for a moment, but then¡ª 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. Chapter 007 | Project Desertification Wood is composed of Carbon, Hydrogen, Oxygen, and Nitrogen. It also contains calcium, potassium, sulfur, and magnesium¡ªall elements that form the hydrocarbon chains that makeup wood. The Wood Race of Elves! ¡®Whether it be a strand of grass, a seed, or a shrub, I¡¯m not feeling any differences in my sense of control over them.¡¯ Pinaka thought as he stared at his hands, ¡®If it means as long as the combination of these elements exist in a hydrocarbon chain to allow me to control it, then the same applies to my body, too.¡¯ ¡®Even human bones are 15 percent Carbon by weight. So, it should be possible.¡¯ Pinaka tied a strand of grass on his index finger to test the sprouting idea in his mind and brought all his attention to it. Upon his will, the grass strand coiled itself to turn thinner. Next, Pinaka imposed the same will on the skin of his index finger. Nothing happened. ¡®If I had some reference, I think it¡¯d be easier.¡¯ But Mahnaka had never demonstrated such an ability. That meant he was on his own. ¡®I am missing something.¡¯ He frowned, grunted, and resumed germinating the wheat seeds planted in the soil. Even though he didn¡¯t wish to work like a slave, he had to act his part, at least until he got a chance to flee, ¡°There¡¯s too much I don¡¯t know yet.¡± ¡®I have some idea of our power system now. I can think of ideas further from here.¡¯ Pinaka then eyed the mortar wall, ¡®But I do not know this place. The terrain, the building layout, and how far must I flee before I¡¯m truly free?¡¯ The rest of the day was uneventful. No one came to bother him, ¡®The Humans don¡¯t interfere as long as I produce the scheduled batch of wheat.¡¯ ¡°Humans?¡± he frowned. There was a strange disconnect in his phrasing. ¡°I¡­am human¡­used to be human¡­¡± He felt strange as if he were referring to someone else. He clutched his head, ruffling his fingers through his hair to mutter, ¡°I am Pinaka, the Elf.¡± ¡°Shit!¡± Referring to himself as an Elf felt natural while Humans no longer seemed like his kin, despite his memories from Earth, ¡°I¡¯ve¡­only been here for two freaking days!¡± Pinaka was already a different individual physically. And now, he was also stabilizing mentally to his new identity, ¡®It doesn¡¯t make sense otherwise that it took me an entire day to realize I was naked. It didn¡¯t feel awkward for an instant, even when I was conversing with Mahnaka all along.¡¯ Elves¡ªKin! Humans¡ªEnemies! The distinction was sharp. Instinctual. Unshakable. He would have to consciously make decisions by referencing his previous life¡¯s memories to avoid harming Humans in the future. But¡­ his experiences of the prior day¡ªthe pain, the torture¡ªweren¡¯t exactly pushing him toward sympathy for humanity. ¡°First, a self-analysis is necessary.¡± Pinaka observed the field before him and grabbed a seedling. He twisted it and plucked it off. His eyes stung with grief. ¡®I¡¯ve never mourned a tree being cut before¡­ this is new.¡¯ He grabbed the strands of grass growing at spots across the field and casually placed them on his hip, ¡°It feels strange to cover myself.¡± The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement. He compressed a strand of grass into a needle-thin stick and used it to draw two stick figures in the dirt¡ªone human and one Elf. He stared at them, analyzing his emotions. He stared at both and inspected his feelings. ¡°I see. Elves were inherently compassionate toward all life. But their greatest priority was plant life.¡± He then drew some fire on the human figurines¡¯ hands and a burning tree behind him, feeling mild anger seethe in him, ¡°When someone harms plant life, I feel anger.¡± ¡°Do I care about all lives?¡± He drew a bunch of stick-like creatures, dogs, cats, and elephants, scribbling through their bodies like a ginormous sword was cutting them. It wasn¡¯t much, but he felt hurt at the action, ¡°Elves mourn the loss of all life, regardless of the species.¡± Pinaka spent the next hour experimenting to determine his current emotional disposition. ¡°So, let me get this in order.¡± ¡°I grieve for all lives, but my plants take priority. Following them are animals and insects that live symbiotically in forests and help the plants with pollination, provide manure, and so on. At the bottom of this order are destructive creatures towards forests.¡± Pinaka concluded, ¡°Humans are lower on the ladder since their Authority over Fire is naturally destructive towards Wood.¡± ¡°Next is perception,¡± Pinaka said, focusing on the World Tree¡¯s task. ¡°Let¡¯s consider that the reward can transcend time and space.¡± ¡°If I think I¡¯ll be reincarnated to my family irrespective of how long I live here¡­¡± He muttered after a few seconds of thought, ¡°I¡¯ll plan for twenty years extensively and perfectly break out of this prison.¡± ¡°Damn, no wonder we lost.¡± He massaged his forehead, realizing one of the reasons why the Elves may have lost the war. ¡®Twenty years to me feel like what a day does to Humans.¡¯ It¡¯s as if he slept a bit longer than usual. That¡¯s how an Elf perceived a timespan of twenty years, ¡®In that time, the Humans would create an entire generation.¡¯ ¡°And if we¡¯re comparing manpower logistics at war,¡± He shook his head and stared at the sky to eye the silhouette of the far-away World Tree. ¡°I know that only the World Tree can produce Elves since I woke up there yesterday. And judging by how the Humans treated me upon introduction, it seems Elves aren¡¯t being birthed fast.¡± ¡®In comparison, Humans can mate with each other and raise their population at exponential rates.¡¯ For a moment, he recalled the population of Humans on Earth, ¡®They reached a billion at the start of the nineteenth century. And by the twenty-first century, they reached eight billion.¡¯ ¡®So, in terms of numbers, we¡¯re too few while our enemy is rapidly raising their population through the food we¡¯re farming at massive rates here.¡¯ Pinaka analyzed their situation, ¡®In terms of raw power, Wood is weak to Fire. Even if I max out my Stats, I can¡¯t solo an entire army.¡¯ ¡°Hmm¡­¡± He slumped to the ground and stared at the seedling before him, going in a daze as he recalled every statement Mahnaka had said. Soon, he broke into a smile, ¡®Forest fires are dangerous. Mahnaka used that to conclude Wood can never win against Fire.¡¯ ¡°I think I''m starting to understand why the World Tree reincarnated Humans from Earth as Elves.¡± He chuckled, feeling enlightened, ¡®Forest Fires can defeat Elves, but they¡¯ll cripple the Human Race.¡¯ Why? Because everyone needs food to survive. Pinaka observed the soldiers stationed on the mortal walls, found a window when he wasn¡¯t being observed, and sneaked into Mahnaka¡¯s farm to ask, ¡°Is there any Level 2 Elf here?¡± ¡°No, we¡¯ll be killed when we reach Level 2.¡± Mahnaka shook his head, staring in confusion to see Pinaka chuckle in response. ¡°Any idea on how to reach it?¡± Pinaka asked. ¡°No, the Humans burnt every detail regarding it immediately after winning the war.¡± Mahnaka responded perplexedly, ¡°Why? Are you planning something, Pinaka?¡± ¡°Nope, just satiating my curiosity.¡± Pinaka didn¡¯t express anything else and returned to his farm, beginning to resume work as he thought, with a wide grin, ¡®A large amount of food is necessary to upkeep the voracious appetite of a ginormous population. If it falls short, the population turns volatile upon itself.¡¯ ¡®Pests among grains, poisoning the grains.¡¯ Pinaka muttered, ¡°There are ways to go about it. Since I now have a direction, I only need to work towards it while figuring out things along the way.¡± That was why the Humans from Earth are reincarnating as Elves on Gangnea, ¡®A pure-born Elf of this world would consider it blasphemous and would rather die than do it. But I¡­¡¯ ¡°It¡¯ll surely hurt my feelings since I¡¯m now an Elf. But,¡± Pinaka touched his scorched cheeks with a vicious glare, ¡°When push comes to shove, I¡¯m ready to burn down all plant life.¡± ¡®A Level 2 Elf can create trees and live off its produce.¡¯ He concluded, ¡®If the world becomes a desert...only Elves will survive.¡¯ ¡°Project Desertification, it is.¡± He let out a laugh. ¡­ Gangnea Daily Article #7: There¡¯s no ceiling to the stats you can gain on Gangnea. You¡¯re only limited by how long you¡¯ve spent your life training. Chapter 008 | A Seed Of Plans Year 19¡ª35th Day of the 8th Moon! When Pinaka dragged himself away from his farm, evening had fallen, and every step weighed in exhaustion. ¡®It seems using my Authority is similar to simultaneously undergoing mental and physical exercise.¡¯ ¡®There¡¯s no limit to the power itself, but I can only use it for as long as my stamina can sustain the process.¡¯ He grunted, ¡®Now I know why the Humans give us less food and sleep.¡¯ Despite the grueling labor, he had managed to turn every seed in his hectare of farmland into a seedling. At first, harvesting wheat within six days had seemed impossible, but after experiencing the process firsthand, Pinaka knew Elves were more than capable of it. His speed had already improved¡ªhe could now use Seed Overgrowth to germinate a seed in under eight seconds. But it wasn¡¯t enough. Not if he wanted to escape. He had no interest in waiting decades for the Human King to die and political unrest to create an opening. That was a gamble¡ªand by then, he might end up like Mahnaka, too broken to try. ¡®Starvation and sleep deprivation for more than a decade would wear anyone down to nothing.¡¯ ¡®I am not allowed tools, clothes, or enough food and sleep. Things aren¡¯t easy. And most of all, something still made Mahnaka fail eight times.¡¯ He thought as such and began to walk towards the tunnel. As he approached the tunnel leading back into the prison, a soldier stood waiting beside the central stone pillar, arms crossed. ¡°Status?¡± the soldier asked lazily. He wrote a line on his notepad, observed Pinaka¡¯s Status Screen, performed a sniffing test, and waved his hand, ¡°You can head to your cell now.¡± ¡®There¡¯s enough freedom if we¡¯re obedient and perform our work on time.¡¯ Pinaka thought, ¡®He judged my exhaustion but didn¡¯t comment.¡¯ ¡®Thankfully, I managed to sneak this in here.¡¯ He mused upon entering his cell and took out a wheat grain buried within the bandages wrapped around his thumb. He placed the seed in the corner and used the Spell of Seed Overgrowth, ¡®I¡¯ve seen saplings sprout out of concrete and even bitumen roads.¡¯ The wheat seed turned into a seedling and gently rooted itself into the corner, but the soil was dry and lacking moisture. Pinaka had a solution: ¡°Haack! Thuh!¡± It absorbed his spit as Pinaka noticed that its condition wasn¡¯t better than that of the seedlings on the farm outside. ¡®It still needs some sunlight, even if not direct.¡¯ He observed his surroundings, then slumped on the floor and fell asleep. He also positioned his head towards the corner and used his hair to hide the seedling. Upon analyzing the Elven race, he wanted to attain a particular condition: ¡®We¡¯re meant to be born through wood, live on wood, and then become one with wood upon our deaths. So, even passively, I should always be in contact with Wood, no matter how little it is. That way, I¡¯ll figure out things faster. It should also be why the Humans make us sleep on stone floors, away from Wood.¡¯ ¡®They might have burned down the Elven Race¡¯s history, but as long as I think about everything that the Humans make us do and then think against it in favor of a Forest or something, I¡¯ll be embracing my culture, and through it, I¡¯ll figure out everything regarding our authority.¡¯ This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it. If an Elf uses his authority on Wood, any other Elf in contact with it could perceive the secrets. That was how Pinaka learned the Spell of Seed Overgrowth. ¡®This power system has no limitations. I¡¯m only limited by my imagination.¡¯ While his head remained in contact with the seedling, Pinaka focused on his thumb. ¡®It constantly hurts there. Maybe that¡¯s what is necessary to maintain focus.¡¯ The wound reopened frequently as he worked, blood seeping from the raw injury. But the Humans didn¡¯t care. They never did. They had seen it countless times¡ªElves didn¡¯t die from losing a thumb. No matter how weak one becomes, one always survives. As long as an Elf continued working like a slave, their suffering was nothing more than entertainment. A source of twisted pleasure. After all, until twenty years ago, Elves were the masters of Gangnea. ¡®Close it! Close the wound! Close it!¡¯ He willed himself, unsure whether or not it would work as he fell asleep, ¡®My body is composed of the same elements that make up the element of Wood. They are one! They are the same!¡¯ ??????????? ¡ªClap! Clap! Clap! Pinaka jolted awake. ¡°Shit!¡± His mind was sluggish, still trapped in the haze of sleep. ¡®How many claps have it been already?¡¯ He ran out of his prison cell, grunting in pain when he brushed his thumb stump into the rod of a door left ajar nearby. It was dark, and his head was still groggy from sleep. ¡ªClap! Clap! His breath hitched. Mahnaka¡¯s cell was empty. So were the others. ¡®Shit! I¡¯m late!¡¯ He strained his ears, picking up the soft murmurs from the ground floor, where the other Elves had already gathered. And standing before them was the soldier, clapping rhythmically. ¡°Shii¡­¡± Pinaka tumbled through the last batch of stairs and lifted his head quickly, only to notice the soldier was standing before him now. Hands behind his back. Gaze lowered in mock amusement. Lips curled in ridicule. He stepped forward, dragging his boot slowly¡ªjust close enough for the foul stench of sweat and rot to hit Pinaka¡¯s nose. A smirk twisted his lips. ¡°You¡¯re late.¡± The soldier¡¯s voice dripped with amusement. ¡°No dinner for you tonight.¡± He turned away, chuckling. ¡°The baby Elf lacks discipline.¡± He walked toward the crowd of Elves, his voice carrying over his shoulder. ¡°Guess you¡¯re starving tonight.¡± He then arrived before the crowd of Elves and started to hand out food, which consisted of two fruits resembling an apple and something like a berry alongside a leather pouch of water. That was it. But even that was deprived of Pinaka since he arrived a few seconds late. ¡°Let the baby Elf watch you lot eat.¡± The soldier clapped once as a tiny whisker of fire coiled around his arm, illuminating his face from below and causing long, deep shadows to cover his visage, especially his curling lips. ¡°Well, what are you waiting for?¡± Noticing a momentary hesitation among the Elves, the soldier bellowed, ¡°Eat!¡± ¡°Eat, you damn slaves!¡± His stomach protested in hunger as Pinaka watched the hesitant Elves eat the food. Some of the younger Elves were indignant, the averagely older ones showed pity towards Pinaka, and the oldest batch ate in silence. ¡®There are around 218 Elves here, including me.¡¯ Pinaka took this opportunity to make a headcount and then focused on the side of the Humans, ¡®There¡¯s only one Soldier here.¡¯ The food was carried in a stone cart, pushed by an Ogre, the same one responsible for hurling in the farm produce harvested by the Elves. As Pinaka eyed the Elves, he noticed his thumb sockets were¡­itching. Using the light emitting from the Fire Whip coiled around the soldier¡¯s arm, Pinaka stared at the bandage on his arm and noticed the wound¡¯s edges had¡­closed up. ¡®Hydrocarbons! I was right!¡¯ ... Gangnea Daily Article #8 The rules of the power system are free to interpretation. If you think it makes sense, then it probably does, unless your common sense has emigrated out of Gangnea. Chapter 009 | Ash Road Network A metal behemoth thundered through the Tsingy Rock Forest, its eight massive wheels rattling over the jagged terrain. It was a fortified carriage, twenty meters long and six meters wide, moved with calculated precision. Each of its wheels, each a meter wide, let out dull rattles as the eight wheels sprang up and down upon the uneven rocky terrain. The carriage rattled forward, its advanced suspension the only thing keeping it from breaking apart on the rough terrain. The rubber-coated wheels fought against the uneven ground, swallowing each jolt as it pushed ahead. A soldier pressed his fingers against the narrow window grille, barely wide enough to fit a hand through. His breath smeared against the cold steel, vanishing as fast as it came. His eyes flicked across the barren land, searching, waiting. Across from him, another set of eyes peeked through a narrow slit. The soldier¡¯s face shone with sweat, jaw locked so tight it might snap. His fingers twitched against the wooden wall, restless, unsure. Inside, the air sat heavy, pressing down like a weight on their chests. Soldiers clutched their weapons like lifelines, knuckles pale, breathing shallow. But one figure didn¡¯t move. Their posture remained firm, eyes locked on the periscope jutting from the roof. When they spoke, their voice was steady. Cold. ¡°It¡¯s clear. Keep moving.¡± The armored carriage pressed on, its flame-powered propulsion kicking up dust as it advanced. Outside, the jagged stone formations began to tremble. A soldier stiffened. ¡°Your Highness, they¡¯re after us.¡± The imposing figure barely spared him a glance. ¡°Of course they are.¡± The periscope extended further, revealing massive figures emerging from the craggy landscape¡ªogres. Five meters tall, they wielded stone spears longer than the carriage itself. Their heavy footfalls sent deep tremors through the ground as they surged forward. A soldier hesitated. ¡°They will catch up soon.¡± Your Highness remained unimpressed. ¡°Then we move faster.¡± A burst of fire erupted from the rear vents, its roaring thrust propelling the carriage forward like a crude jet engine. Within the armored shell, a human stood at his station, with his palm outstretched toward the vent, his flames fueling their momentum. The Fire Race of Humans¡ªLevel 2 (Creation). At the command of the authoritative voice, he gritted his teeth and cranked up the output, the flames surging hotter through his palm. The carriage shuddered as it lurched forward, wringing every ounce of speed from its weight. On this terrain, the carriage was already moving near its top speed¡ª18 kilometers per hour¡ªbut most of the time, it managed only 12, far too slow for an escape. But with the weight and value of their cargo, there was no choice. The worst of the terrain was behind them. The jagged rocks of the Tsingy Rock Forest gave way to flat land with scattered boulders and patches of tall grass. Hidden within the grass were small piles of firewood, carefully placed to blend in. Not enough to be obvious, but enough to serve their purpose. The metal carriage¡¯s speed increased to 30 kilometers per hour, leaving deep tracks on the loose soil, ¡°Keep up the speed. Let them chase if they dare.¡± The metal carriage swerved around the boulders, its wheels leaving deep tracks in the soil as it was able to maintain speed. However, the Ogre Race, famed for their battle charge, were faster. Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author. Their enormous bodies¡ªaveraging around a height of five meters¡ªrushed across the grassland, charging with unstoppable momentum. Held in the hands of each were rock columns reaching a height of eight meters, shaped like spears. The Stone Race of Ogres! With their Authority over Stone, the Ogres created Stone Spears by touching the boulders amidst their paths. They were steadily arming up while racing closer and closer to the metal carriage. ¡°Your Highness, the Ogres have reached the field and are closing in on us!¡± a soldier announced tensely, peering through a periscope. ¡°Torch the field.¡± came a cold reply. Immediately, over a dozen Flame Tongues flashed out of the metal carriage and set the fields on fire. The fresh grass didn¡¯t burn as quickly, but the scattered firewood showed its purpose. Flames spread from the carriage, quickly catching onto the scattered firewood. The dry wood fueled the blaze, raising the heat until the surrounding grass dried and ignited, turning the field into a firewall. ¡°Damn humans!¡± An Ogre charged through the flames, determined to reach the carriage. But as the fire seared his skin, he snarled and stopped short. Furious, he hurled a massive Stone Spear, the impact echoing with a loud clang as it struck the armored carriage. The Ogres would have caught up if the chase had lasted a few more minutes. But now, the spreading fire stood between them and the carriage. ¡°Quick! Make a path!¡± The Ogre bellowed as it approached the closest boulder. The rock shifted and reshaped, transforming into an eight-meter-long and two-meter-wide cylinder. Four Ogres grunted and rolled it across the field of fire, snuffing out the flames along the stone cylinder¡¯s path. ¡°Don¡¯t let them escape!¡± one roared, frustration mounting as the carriage gained distance. ¡°They have our Relic!¡± ¡°Kill them! No matter what!¡± As the Ogres roared in anger, one of them took out a conch and blew into it, sending a sharp, high-pitched shriek¡ªlike the piercing call of a bird. The commanding figure in the carriage stared ahead, ¡°Once we¡¯re past the border, they¡¯ll lose their advantage. They know it. That¡¯s why they¡¯re desperate. But they will find a way through. Be alert.¡± ??????????? T¡¯Hara Forest! The forest edge marked the beginning of Elven territory, now fully controlled by the Humans. As the metal carriage crossed the border, the soldiers exhaled in relief. The Ogres¡¯ greatest strength¡ªAuthority over Stone¡ªwas useless here. With no boulders in sight, their power held little threat. Moreover, if push comes to shove, the Humans could torch the trees and create a forest fire, which provided them the perfect environmental advantage to deal with a horde of enemies without issues. Damage to the forest didn¡¯t matter since they could always use their Elven slaves to repair and regrow the burnt forest sections. T¡¯Hara Forest lay at the heart of the Gangnea Continent, bordered by the territories of many races. In this forest, a narrow ash road stretched through the dense woods, part of a massive network built for war and conquest. The Humans had carved through the land, burning entire sections of forest to create these paths. The leftover ash was compacted with massive stone rollers, pushed by Ogre slaves, solidifying it into a serviceable road¡ªthe Ash Road Network. Meanwhile, the carriage rumbled forward; its heavy wheels cracked the hardened surface, but the ride was smooth compared to the brutal terrain before. For the first time in the journey, silence settled inside the carriage. The carriage touched its top speed of 35 kilometers per hour¡ªand, for now, they were safe. ¡°Your Highness, do we set up camp for the night?¡± one of the soldiers asked, clearly exhausted, as they had been fighting nonstop for days. ¡°No.¡± The response was firm, unwavering. ¡°We rest when we¡¯re home. Not before.¡± ¡ªBoom! Suddenly, a rock pillar protruded through the ash road, emerging in the metal carriage¡¯s path. It had appeared too suddenly and in closeup, so the metal carriage was unable to stop on time. ¡°Turn! Evade it!¡± However, despite their best efforts, the Humans couldn¡¯t turn the metal carriage fast enough and braced for impact. As it slammed into the rock pillar, it tumbled from its momentum. The impact shattered the pillar and caused it to fall on the carriage, trapping it. Immediately after, eight Ogres rushed towards the metal carriage, wielding stone spears. ¡°Defend the carriage!¡± The command rang out, sharp and unwavering. A soldier, shaken but still standing, climbed out of the wreckage¡ªonly to be impaled mid-step, a stone spear piercing through his chest. ¡°Die! Humans!¡± One of the Ogres climbed onto the carriage and attacked the entrance. With a brutal swing, he cut down a soldier, blood splattering against the metal. But the next moment, a wave of fire engulfed his face, illuminating the forest. ... Gangnea Daily Article #9 The Ogre Race is the most physically gifted in Gangnea. However, their intelligence is compromised compared to other races. Chapter 010 | The 48th Human Prince ¡°Argh!¡± The Ogre palmed his face, trying to smother the flames. However, the fire seeped through the gaps between his fingers and burned his flesh. The air reeked of burning skin. He uttered a tortured roar, the sound twisting with the disgusting sizzle of his flesh melting away. ¡ªThud! The Ogre¡¯s massive body crashed to the ground, his death clearing the path for a second latch to unlock. The metal doors swung open, and four Humans rushed out, each wielding a Flame Whip. ¡°Only seven left! Burn them all!¡± The Soldier in the lead shouted and lashed out with his Flame Whip¡ªonly for a boulder to slam into his head. ¡ªCrack! His skull split apart like a crushed melon. His lifeless body collapsed mid-charge. Before his weapon could hit the ground, another soldier lunged forward, snatching the falling Flame Whip. Under his control, the Flame Whip transformed into a spear. He hurled it forward, aiming for an Ogre¡¯s eye. ¡ªSquelch! The fiery spear impaled the creature¡¯s socket, flames consuming his eye as the Ogre let out a guttural howl. But the fire burned out upon impact. Clicking his tongue, the Soldier swiftly retreated behind the armored carriage and bellowed: ¡°Your Highness!¡± A cold, amused voice rang out from within. ¡°Tell me, does it amuse you that I¡ªyour prince¡ªam keeping you alive?¡± The doors burst open. A young man, no older than twenty, emerged with a fiery mane of hair that gleamed under the night sky, casting a reddish-orange glow around him. He wore a fur-woven leather armor, dull yellow with blue embroidery, fitting snugly against his lean frame. He was lean, his frame compact yet brimming with coiled strength. At 172 centimeters, he stood. A thin, lackluster goatee clung to his chin, fluttering slightly in the night breeze. Then¡ªwhoosh! Flames erupted from his legs, roaring to life as they churned with raw energy. He shot into the air with a burst of fiery propulsion, soaring twenty meters above the battlefield. With an exasperated expression, he scanned the seven Ogres glaring at him, their eyes burning with hostility¡ªone clutching its charred, ruined eye. ¡®Tch. I knew that conch sound wouldn¡¯t just be a noise. It was a signal. These brutes were already lying in wait.¡¯ ¡®So, the Ogres are making a move for T¡¯Hara Forest. Bold. Stupid, but bold.¡¯ His gaze snapped to the wounded Ogre, a smirk curling at his lips. ¡°Look at you¡ªclutching your face like a wounded pup. Pathetic.¡± His voice cut through the air, laced with mockery and authority. ¡°Kneel. Submit to the will of Humanity, and perhaps I¡¯ll grant you the mercy of a quick death.¡± ¡°Arrogant Human! I¡¯ll pummel your head into paste!¡± With one eye burned and useless, the Ogre snarled and slapped the rock where the metal carriage crashed. The rock swiftly reshaped and turned a portion into a Stone Spear. He poised the spear toward the Human in the sky, and hurled the spear skyward with terrifying force. ¡ªWhoosh! ¡°Whoa!¡± The young man in the sky moved his shoulder, letting the Stone Spear miss its mark. A flame thrust appeared on his back, turning his figure into a fiery blur. In a series of motions, the Ogres jabbed from different angles, forcing the young man to change direction midair as he swerved through the seven Ogres, forming a helical fire pattern. ¡°Slow! Too slow!¡± He sneered as a Flame Whip lashed out, coiling around the nearest Ogre¡¯s thick neck and burnt through it. The Ogre roared and retaliated, but the young man darted like a fly while his Flame Whip remained coiled around its neck. A few moments later, the Ogre¡¯s head fell to the ground, burnt at the neck. There was a long-standing custom among humans: the children of Level 3 Humans were treated as royalty, addressed as Princes or Princesses, and numbered according to their birth order. These individuals were more likely to reach Level 2, a milestone that granted them the strength and abilities to carve their own path in the world. The one battling the Ogres had already reached Level 2, making him far more formidable than an ordinary Human. While physically weaker than the massive creatures, his agility, fire mastery, and hit-and-run tactics allowed him to stand his ground¡ªeven against a group of them. The forest had turned dark, its silence stretching beneath the vast night sky. Then¡ªFWOOOSH! A cone of fire erupted, engulfing the Ogres in an instant. Their roars of defiance turned into agonized shrieks as the flames devoured flesh and bone, leaving behind nothing but charred remains. Moments later, the battlefield again turned dark, with only faint embers scattered across the ground, pulsing with weak heat and light. Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. Seconds later¡ª A blazing streak cut through the night. The young man reappeared at another location, trailing fire as he blasted flames like a roaring flamethrower. With a shift of his feet, the thrust beneath him angled in a new direction, effortlessly altering his flight path. ¡ªWhoosh! Crack! Boom! Rock Spears tore through the air, narrowly missing their mark. A massive Rock Hammer crashed toward him, only for him to twist aside at the last second. Then¡ªCRACK! An Ogre, crafting a path to him, had formed a set of Stone Stairs in seconds. With a thunderous lunge, it sprang forward, trying to grab him in midair. But he was already gone. [Spell: Torch] Among Level 2 Humans, it was one of the most commonly used spells. Upon activation, a burst of fire would erupt wide-spread, making it easy to control and highly effective. While not the most powerful spell, its consistent burn and low energy cost made it a staple in battle. With their rigid bodies and stone defenses, the Ogres could withstand the flames longer than most creatures. By shielding themselves with rocks, they delayed the inevitable¡ªbut only for a time. These were all Level 1 Ogres. They could not create stone and had exhausted most of their supplies, turning them into the stone spears they had hurled at the man. Their fate was sealed, with nowhere to run and nothing to defend themselves. The last remaining Ogre staggered, his body charred to the limit, skin blackened and cracking from the heat. He collapsed to his knees, coughing out a final, hate-filled breath. ¡°You¡­ will pay, damn Human¡­¡± His smoldering eyes glared at the young man, filled with fury even in death. ¡°My brethren will slaughter¡­¡± ¡ªThud! Its massive body fell forward, motionless. The young man exhaled, unimpressed. ¡°I keep hearing that,¡± he muttered, rolling his eyes. ¡°Yet, here I stand.¡± Without hesitation, he raised his palm, engulfing the corpse in a roaring inferno. ¡°The will of Humanity reigns supreme! Surrender, or be reduced to nothing.¡± He was the 48th Prince of the Human Race, Pronto. His fiery gaze swept the battlefield before he scowled in disgust. ¡°Tch. That was the last of them.¡± He dusted off his hands, his voice laced with contempt. Then, without turning, he barked out an order: ¡°Damn, cowards! Get out here.¡± The response was instant. ¡°Y-Yes, Your Highness!¡± Five soldiers scrambled out of their hiding spots, their faces flushed with embarrassment. ¡°Two of our comrades are dead.¡± Pronto¡¯s voice was flat, unmoved. He gestured toward the bodies, his gaze sharp. ¡°Burn them. Seal their ashes. Then clear the rubble. I don¡¯t have time for delays.¡± ¡°Yes, Your Highness!¡± The soldiers snapped into action and immediately collected the IDs of their fallen comrades before setting their bodies aflame. Their ashes were then sealed in earthen jars, following which the soldiers began to clear the collapsed rubble from the metal carriage, conducting repairs so that it could start moving as soon as possible. Meanwhile, Pronto landed on the carriage¡¯s rooftop and slipped through the open latch, his movements fluid. His eyes narrowed at seeing an older man slumped at the rear, snoring softly. His lips curled. ¡ªThud! Pronto¡¯s boot struck the old man¡¯s side, jolting him awake. ¡°I was out there fighting, and you were sleeping?¡± The old man gasped, his body jerking upright. ¡°Ah¡ª! Your Highness!¡± He scrambled into a stiff salute, his breath ragged. Pronto scoffed. ¡°Forget it.¡± His expression twisted with disdain. ¡°Just be ready. We¡¯re moving soon.¡± ¡°Yes, Your Highness.¡± The old man¡ªa Level 2 Human, but too weak to fight¡ªgritted his teeth and moved toward the rear of the carriage, where the flame-powered propulsion system awaited his control. His deep eyebags and sluggish movements betrayed exhaustion, but Pronto paid it no mind. Then¡ª ¡°Your Highness!¡±. A soldier burst into the carriage, saluting sharply. ¡°The damage is extensive. The carriage won¡¯t survive the journey.¡± Pronto¡¯s eyes flickered. ¡°How long will repairs take?¡± When he was met with silence, he frowned, ¡°You can¡¯t?¡± ¡ªCrack! The Soldier stumbled back, reeling from Pronto¡¯s swift kick. ¡°Incompetent bastards. If you can¡¯t fix it, I¡¯ll find someone who can.¡± The old man rubbed his side, suppressing a sigh. ¡°The Elven Prison, Your Highness.¡± Pronto¡¯s eyes narrowed. ¡°There¡¯s a Dwarf imprisoned there,¡± the old man continued. ¡°He can repair the carriage.¡± Then, with a grin that didn¡¯t quite reach his tired eyes, he added, ¡°Besides¡­ even the Ogres chasing us wouldn¡¯t dare set foot near the prison. His Lordship is stationed there.¡± Pronto exhaled. ¡°Yeah¡­¡± His fingers clenched at his side. Elven Prison¡¯s Warden intimidated him more than any adversaries he had met on this journey. "The Warden will offer protection until we¡¯re ready to move." The soldiers worked quickly, clearing the rubble, and soon, the metal carriage lurched forward, its battered frame groaning under the strain. ¡ªClang! Clatter! The wheels began rolling unevenly. The carriage''s axle was bent, the front dented, and the side bore deep scars from the battle, but there was no time for repairs. At the rear, the Spell of Fire Thrust flared at full intensity, pushing the crippled vehicle forward. Even at maximum output, it could barely scrape together a top speed of 14 kilometers per hour¡ªfar from ideal, but the only option. ??????????? Twenty minutes later¡ª Over a hundred Ogres stormed onto the battlefield, their thundering steps sending ripples through the earth. At their head, five towering figures loomed¡ªLevel 2 Ogres. The largest one was the leader of the group, covered in scars and battle marks. He stared at the charred corpses of his brethren and roared in anger, ¡°The Humans will pay!¡± ¡°These burns are fresh¡­ fifteen, maybe twenty minutes ago," another Ogre, his deputy, muttered. His stone-plated face twisted in a scowl. "The Humans can''t be far." The leader¡¯s rocky gaze snapped toward the horizon. "Then we give chase!" he roared. ... Gangnea Daily Article #10: The Human Race has over 100 Princes and Princesses in every generation. When one becomes the Human King, the rest lose their Princely status.