EU: Chapter 029 | Growing Bolder

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“That’s pretty nasty.” The soldier snorted upon arriving before Raepekka’s cell. He glared in anger for a few seconds before calming down.

In the cell was Raepekka, his hands clutching the neck tight, forming a clear depression. Blood spurted out of it, and faint, flute sounds from time to time as blood flushed out. Enough pressure had been applied to shatter the windpipe and choke him to death.

Blood vessels had shattered and formed a bloody mess. As the soldier stared at the corpse, a thin arc of blood shot out of the neck. His gaze then fell on the face of the corpse, observing the face of an Elf who had gone out in absolute pain.

The expression of pain, dissatisfaction, and regret was clearly depicted. A glance at it and the soldier winced, “Oh, that will give me nightmares tonight! Bloody hell!”

He walked away and resumed the morning’s work. And once all the Elves left to farm, he brought in a team of soldiers and carried out the corpses of Pinaka and Raepekka from their respective cells.

“One died from hunger, and the other…Fucking trash,” Rachad commented upon arriving at the scene, staring at Raepekka to shout, “Suicide?”

He stared at the soldier who noted down the stats of the Elves every morning and beckoned with a curl of his index finger, “Come closer.”

“Yes,” The soldier was obedient, reeling in pain as a sharp slap lashed on his face.

“Fucking idiot!” Rachad cursed and rolled out a second slap, “You should have noticed if that Elf showed suicidal behaviour, and then,”

He roared, “We would have killed him first! His stats were approaching the limit anyway. He too knows it.”

“What the fuck are you doing? You’re not meant to just blindly note down their stats!” He fired off a string of expletives for a few minutes, also cursing the soldiers who had come to retrieve the two corpses, because he could.

All the soldiers were at Level 1. Officers like Rached were few and were all at Level 2. There was one officer per prison. Basically, Rachad had the final say in this grain prison. The rest were his subordinates.

‘He’s an asshole, through and thought.’ Nailed to the pillar and having a perfect view of everything that was happening was Pinaka. He was getting accustomed to being stuck here. That was all. The more he observed, the more he realised just what kind of existence the potion factory was.

Anyone relegated to this role remained nailed to the pillar for the rest of their existence. They were alive but unable to speak or move. All they could do was stare helplessly, that’s it.

Elves typically never lifted their heads to see the potion factory, because it served as a reminder that they could be subjected to such a horrific fate if they didn’t work obediently. This visual reminder instinctively made them unwilling to make eye contact or even stare in the potion factory’s direction.

The one stuck there would be pleading to be released with every ounce of their being. It was hard for the Elves to witness the face of such a person.

The Humans, on the other hand, could care less. Every night, the nails were checked and ensured they worked without issues. Therefore, the soldiers never bothered to stare at the potion factory, the most pitiful Elf in the prison.

That was exactly why Pinaka wanted to become the potion factory. Because, he now existed as a blind spot for both Humans and Elves. That allowed him free rein for most of the day.

Once the Elves headed to the farm, there was none in the prison, ‘The Humans too seldom appear.’

The group of soldiers carried the two corpses away for disposal while Rachad followed them a couple dozen metres behind, constantly murmuring in anger.

The walls bordering the hexagon lands also had a tunnel moving through them. Occasionally, there were entrances in these tunnels, which were the entry points into the hexagons.

Rachad walked through the tunnel within the wall bordering hexagons 1 and 2.

Without hesitation, Pinaka freed himself from the nails. He then left behind a hollow clone of himself behind. One hit, and it would collapse. However, if left undisturbed, it would remain as is. The clone had its eyes close, wearing his skin. It seemed pretty realistic.

And since no one bothered to look at the potion factory, Pinaka could freely explore the place during the day. His first priority was to trail Rachad and see what the latter was up to.

‘It’ll be great if I can find where they store the World Tree Fruits.’ Security there would be insane, but that didn’t matter to him. Pinaka wouldn’t be facing them as a warrior but as an assassin. He’ll disguise himself as a solider, get close, and then touch them. ‘As long as I act before they blast fire on me, I’ll win.’

Outside the prison’s campus, attached to the wall bordering hexagon 21, was an office. It was divided into four floors, with the topmost floor being the living quarters of the soldiers.

The ground floor had a bunch of tables filled with stacks of documents. Hung on the walls were all sorts of tools, from whips to hammers. Majority of them were building tools, as the soldiers were mostly in charge of inspection and logistics.

Very few actually interacted with the Elves.

‘Security is lax.’ Pinaka thought as he crawled on the floor, on all fours. He gradually morphed his palms and feet to resemble a feline and moved in silence, trailing after Rachad.

He peeked from a corner and waited for Rachad to turn the next corner before drawing close. One misstep and he was doomed. But thankfully, Rachad moved as usual, casual, filled with arrogance as if he was the ruler of this place, which technically, he was.

Security was lax because all the Elves had been documented and were on farms. Only after observing that did Rached began to walk towards his office. The tunnels were long, stretching for the same length as the sides of a hexagon.

A hexagon occupied six hectares in area. That meant each side of a hexagon spanned approximately 152 metres. It was a significant distance to scale while blind. Because once Rachad made the turn, Pinaka wasn’t sure of the latter’s position until he scaled 152 metres.

What if Rachad were to turn around for some reason? He would notice an Elf in the tunnel, ‘It’s risky, but I don’t have much of a choice. Irrespective of when I make a move, I will have to trail Rachad eventually, with the same risk.’

Creak!

There was just the final stretch of 152 metres between him and the office as Pinaka watched Rachad enter the office. ‘There’s no one standing guard there.’

He didn’t recklessly move forward but instead kept watch on the office. The door was left ajar, and faint silhouettes were seen scuttling about within, ‘There are many Humans there. But let’s watch and see what happens.’

Every day, a batch of Elves had to report in their harvest. Most harvests were scheduled anywhere between six to ten days, depending on the crop. And each Elf had a different schedule. Therefore, there was plenty of harvest to be transported out.

The flurry of activity was related to that. And as Pinaka watched, the soldiers steadily vanished from the office. There was a tunnel extending out of the office, heading to the destination for the grains. And from that destination, the various goods produced at the Elven Prison would be transferred to the Human Kingdom.

  Keeping his eyes and ears peeled on the surroundings, Pinaka watched with rapt attention. The moment anyone were to approach close, he could quickly flee into the closest farmland. He always had that option.

And in a matter of seconds, he could cover himself with some local crops to blend in with the surroundings.

All six farms in Hexagon 21 were approaching harvest time. The crops growing there were pretty tall, and hence, camouflaging himself in there was easy. That’s why he dared to spy.

He waited patiently until it was lunchtime. And then, his opportunity arrived. Food was served on the second floor of the office as the soldiers filed there, leaving the ground floor empty.

No one bothered to stay behind, as there was no risk of an Elf entering there. All the Elves were on the farm, watched by the soldiers on the walls. There was no Elf that had gone missing or any unusual happenings.

That was why security was nil.

His soft feet made no sounds as he sprinted. He had yet to touch the feet of a feline after becoming an Elf. So, structurally, he couldn’t replicate one perfectly. However, by relying on his experience from Earth, he made something closer in terms of resemblance.

Moreover, as a stuntman, there were times he had to wear costumes of lions and such creatures. Though not perfect, he knew what he was doing, which was how he could move without any obvious sounds.

The stacks of papers on the table made him feel like he was back on Earth. Approaching the closest stack, he observed the content, ‘Indeed, this is an alien language to me. But I can perfectly understand it, in all forms.’

The documents consisted of the various crops being produced, their daily output, the stats growth of various Elves, shipment quota, etc.

“Oh, they were about to kill me in a couple of days.” Pinaka soon found a report on the six Elves the Humans planned to discard. Nunaka was first on the list. Raepekka was fifth on the list, and at the last was Pinaka.

There was a lot of information, enough to make his head spin, ‘Grain quality analysis? Plans for prison expansion? Man, there’s just too much here.’

However, the information he wanted to find the most—clues about the storage facility for World Tree Fruits and a map of the place—wasn’t available.

Pinaka looked through a bunch of documents and then noticed the door leading out. There was an Ogre there, grunting as it pulled a loaded carriage into a tunnel. There were dozens of loaded carriages in the tunnel, and one Ogre, ‘There’s just one?’

The Ogre was bound in steel chains, two metres long. It was attached to an anchor part of a sliding mechanism in a metal groove that ran along the sides of the tunnel. The sliding mechanism allowed the Ogre to traverse its length, but the chain prevented it from breaking free.

It had been whipped into submission and also injected with various drugs to keep it in a trance-like state, perfect to work it to the bone.

Pinaka surveyed his surroundings and upon failing to spot any Humans, he broke into a sprint, raced up the Ogre, and touched its back. ‘Good!’

Promptly after, he returned to the office. Now, he could create Ogre skin, bones, and flesh. The Ogre skin would allow him to withstand flames the best, way better than any wood. ‘This will come in use later.’

Based on what he observed the soldiers until now, they would be done with lunch soon. And hence, he cautiously approached Rachad’s cabin and gently opened the door. It was a simple cabin, with scrolls filling up the shelf at the back.

There was a wooden table, and on it was a small stack, mostly letters. Pinaka grabbed an open letter and peeked at its contents, quickly summarising the contents, ‘There’s an army of Ogres besieging the Ogre Gate. The letter’s sender wants Rachad to be part of the reinforcements.’

“My…oh my,” Pinaka’s expression curled up into a glee, “Ain’t that just wonderful?”

‘That is exactly the variable I need to escape.’ He thought. The curl on his lips only curled further as all the scrolls and documents, whether they were made using paper or leather, could be tampered with by his Authority, “Oh…hoho!”

‘I can capitalise on this!’ With twisted expectations, Pinaka quickly returned.

Authors Notes: Gangnea Daily Article 29: All plant-based products fall under the Authority of Wood. But what if another Authority was used to create the produce? Does ash fall under the authority of Wood, Fire, or none? –Musings of a Human Scholar.

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