A scent that was both calming and liberating, one that any sentient being would instinctively associate with nature—that was petrichor.

  But what if the stakes were pushed to the extreme? If a man, parched and exhausted after wandering through a desert for days without a single drop of water, were to catch a whiff of petrichor, the emotions surging through him would be overwhelming. It wouldn’t just feel like relief—it would be as if he had stumbled, no, barged into heaven itself.

  Taken to its absolute extreme, in the most literal sense, that was Pinaka’s current state. Intoxicated. Consumed. The weight of his burdens momentarily erased. His body, mind, and soul fixated on a single object.

  Resting in his palm, held delicately between his thumb and index finger, was a small wooden container. And inside it lay a fragment—one-twentieth of the World Tree Fruit by mass.

  —Thump! Thump!

  A shiver ran down his spine, goosebumps spreading across his skin. Pinaka stared at the container, his breath catching. No—breathing itself felt like a distraction. His entire being, every fiber of his existence, was focused on perceiving what rested in the palm of his hand.

  ‘I can do it!’

  The mere contact with the fruit had already begun to stir something deep within him. He could feel it—his body reacting, his senses sharpening. If he willed it, wood would manifest, and he would step into Level 2.

  ‘I’ve been walking the right path all along.’

  But before he could proceed, there was something he needed to do first. With the fragment of the World Tree Fruit in his possession, the next step was simple.

  Pinaka started walking in slow circles, his fingers working on the wooden container, shaping it, pulling it in opposite directions. His goal was clear—split the container apart. This was his way of training, farming the experience needed to raise his Control Factor to two.

  As long as he kept going, he would get there. And with the fruit amplifying his progress, it wouldn’t take long.

  —Crack!

  After nearly an hour, the container finally split in two.

  The moment it broke open, the fragment of the World Tree Fruit was exposed. Without hesitation, Pinaka placed it in his mouth. If he had delayed even a moment longer, its scent would have spread far and wide, alerting a good number of Elves.

  The World Tree Fruit’s scent was naturally restrained—only those with a heightened sense of smell, like Pinaka, could detect it in its whole form. But once split, its fragrance would have diffused rapidly, making it impossible to conceal. That was why he acted without pause.

  Taking a deep breath, he swallowed.

  Almost immediately, his power responded. Warmth surged through his body, his wounds beginning to close. He focused, watching as his severed thumb slowly regenerated.

  [Control Factor: 2]

  ‘In this power system, a single touch is enough to understand an entire process.’

  As the new flesh formed, he studied every detail, memorizing the process. The World Tree Fruit wasn’t merely healing him—it was creating brand-new cells, restoring him from the inside out. A grin spread across his face.

  "I’m ready."

  He inhaled deeply, exhaled thrice, then raised both hands, palms facing upward.

  "Form!"

  With his Control Factor now at Level Two, Pinaka could manipulate two objects simultaneously—whether to create or control.

  In his right palm, a solid block of wood appeared, weighing a kilogram. In his left, a fully-formed hand, identical in mass.

  Thump!

  For a brief moment, a strange sensation washed over him—a feeling as if his Authority was slipping away. But before it could overwhelm him, Pinaka stabilized the power, successfully manifesting two objects at once.

  Level 2.

  "This… T-this is amazing!"

  Excitement surged through him. The power now belonged to him—fully, unquestionably. His body, now completely healed by the World Tree Fruit, brimmed with energy. A single wave of his hand, and he could create anything he desired.

  ‘On Earth… I would be that existence…!’

  On this day, he had ascended beyond mere mortals. On this day, he had become—

  A God.

  His body felt different, stronger. The fruit had not only healed him but had also increased his mass. He glanced down at his arms—his muscles had thickened, not with excess weight, but with the refined power of rigorous training.

  But that wasn’t all.

  His spells, his stats, his very understanding of the world—everything had surged forward.

  Unlike Rulruka, whose blood was extracted to drain the essence of the World Tree Fruit, Pinaka had absorbed every last bit. Rulruka consumed a fruit daily, yet its effects were minimal—stripped down, leaving only residual nourishment to support his body.

  ‘If his blood had never been drained, he’d be overpowered by now.’

  But Pinaka was different. Even though he had only consumed one-twentieth of the fruit, he had fully absorbed its essence.

  The difference?

  Massive.

  ‘Status!’

  [Name: Pinaka]

  [Race: High Elf]

  [Authority: Lifeform]

  [Control Factor: 2]

  [Weight Factor: 22]

  [Volume Factor: 1]

  [Range Factor: 8]

  [Speed Factor: 2]

  [Creation Factor: 1]

  [Spell: -]

  ‘So, it really is the Creation Factor…’ Pinaka thought, excitement surging through him. ‘It determines the mass of matter I can create every second. Right now, that limit is one kilogram per second.’

  His eyes flicked to the second line of his Status Window, realization dawning. Although he made sure to not keep the status window open for long.

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  ‘High Elf?’

  He wasn’t just an Elf. He wasn’t just a Dark Elf. He was both. His Authority over Lifeforms extended across flora and fauna, giving him power beyond either race alone.

  ‘Basically… hydrocarbons.’ He chuckled inwardly, overwhelmed by the sheer potential of his abilities. His excitement was uncontrollable—like a parched traveler stumbling upon an oasis. No, more than that. This oasis even had a waterfall.

  He was high on the rush of power but it didn’t take long for him to regain composure.

  Morning was approaching, and Pinaka forced himself to calm down. His gaze shifted to his creations—his first true manifestations of Level 2 Authority.

  The wooden block in his hand? He snapped it into two and tossed them onto the ground. As he stepped onto the pieces, they responded, coiling up around his feet, forming shoes.

  And the kilogram of flesh in the shape of a hand? He focused on it, morphing it into a pair of gloves—gloves shaped like gecko feet. With a practiced motion, he slipped them on.

  A slow exhale. A couple of sharp breaths.

  ‘Let’s see how it goes this time around.’

  Then, without hesitation—

  He sprinted.

  Racing toward the pillar, he leapt, his gecko gloves gripping onto its surface for a split second—long enough to propel himself upward. His legs barely made contact, just enough to launch himself higher.

  In seconds, he was there.

  Thin roots extended from his wooden shoes, anchoring him to the pillar as he stabilized his position. His gecko gloves adjusted their grip, applying just the right pressure to keep him in place.

  The sprint. The climb. The balance.

  Everything Pinaka had done just now was flawless—the kind of movement only achieved through years of experience.

  And then—

  "Hey."

  Pinaka stared at Rulruka, "I succeeded."

  He then extended his index finger, and the glove covering it receded, revealing the bare tip. His finger moved until it made contact with Rulruka’s throat—latter’s skin parted like water as Pinaka’s fingertip sank in.

  "I’m not a doctor," he admitted, his voice calm but firm. "I don’t know how to properly treat you. But… I can try, at least with what little I understand."

  Upon contact, the damaged throat muscles shifted, responding to his intent. Pinaka focused, using his ability to mildly mend the tears. If he were a doctor, this would have been easy—his power let him perceive every organ inside Rulruka’s body, as clear as a 3D hologram in his mind.

  But he wasn’t.

  So, he worked with common sense, doing what he could to ease the damage.

  "Can you speak?"

  A strained whisper followed.

  "It… seems… I can."

  Rulruka’s voice was weak, his throat still far from healed. But at least he could communicate.

  "Now… can you free me?"

  Pinaka hesitated. His expression darkened.

  "About that…" he exhaled, his tone heavy with regret. "I’m sorry, Rulruka."

  Shock flickered across Rulruka’s face.

  "You… promised!"

  But then, something made him pause. He brought up his Status Window, highlighting Pinaka’s face. And in it, he saw something undeniable—genuine sadness.

  His voice softened. "Can you explain yourself?"

  Pinaka nodded.

  "I can free you from this position. But… that’s it." His words were measured. "I don’t have the means to get you out of this prison."

  He continued, his gaze steady.

  "The moment you’re freed, the Humans will realize we have a method—a power—to break their restraints. That will only make them investigate further, tightening security and restricting any hope we have of escape."

  "Hiding you, sneaking you out, keeping everything under wraps—it’s impossible right now. Even if I tried, it would only make things worse."

  Pinaka took a deep breath.

  "But more than that…" His voice lowered, almost hesitant. "There are too many unknowns. We need time. I need strength. If we act recklessly now, we’ll lose everything."

  "So for now… there’s only one solution."

  His jaw clenched.

  "And unfortunately, it means leaving you here."

  Rulruka fell silent, digesting his words. Then, he sighed.

  "I see." A small, resigned chuckle. "It’s the darkest under the lamppost, huh?"

  Pinaka nodded.

  "Exactly."

  Then, gently, he placed a hand over Rulruka’s chest.

  "I’m sorry." His voice was steady, but his eyes wavered. "Rest now. When you wake up… you’ll be back on Earth."

  His grip tightened.

  "I promise, I’ll succeed. And when I do—"

  His gaze sharpened.

  "—I’ll bring everyone back to Earth with me."

  A wry smile crept onto Rulruka’s lips.

  "Yeah… in the end, it’s not a competition." He let out a slow breath. "We’re all stuck in the same mess… fighting for the same goal."

  His eyelids grew heavy.

  "Only one of us has to win."

  "It feels ironic… placing my faith in someone else." Rulruka let out a dry chuckle, his tone laced with self-deprecation. "I was a politician on Earth. Making promises was my thing."

  A second passed before he added, almost as an afterthought—

  "And breaking them, like clockwork."

  Pinaka didn’t flinch. His voice was steady. "Well, you don’t have to worry about that with me." He met Rulruka’s gaze, his expression unreadable. "I’m just a desperate family man trying to reunite with his family."

  A pause.

  "I don’t have the luxury to lie."

  Rulruka exhaled, finally accepting his fate. But before Pinaka could act, he spoke again.

  "Before you go… I’m curious," His voice was quieter now, contemplative,"What did you do on Earth?"

  Pinaka hesitated for a beat before answering, "A stuntman. Low-budget cinema industry."

  Rulruka raised a brow.

  "From the start?"

  Pinaka's reaction made him smirk.

  "I’m a politician. I understand people." He narrowed his eyes slightly. "So… what did you do before you screwed up your life?"

  Silence.

  Then, with a small shake of his head, Pinaka admitted—

  "I represented my nation in the Science Olympiad." A bitter smile tugged at his lips. "But after that… I didn’t achieve anything noteworthy."

  Rulruka hummed, as if weighing the words. Then, he closed his eyes.

  "I think… I can put my fate in your hands. Not that I have much of a choice in the matter."

  A deep breath. Then, softly—

  "I hope you win, Pinaka."

  His voice was firm.

  "No—"

  He opened his eyes one last time.

  "You must win."

  Pinaka met his gaze.

  "I will."

  And with that, his hand sank into Rulruka’s chest like butter, reaching the heart. Rulruka’s body convulsed once—then went completely still. His heart had stopped.

  The muscles rippled like water as Pinaka retracted his hand. There was no wound, no evidence of what he had done. Rulruka’s chest looked exactly the same as before—untouched, unchanged.

  Just like dipping a hand into water, Pinaka had performed the action smoothly, stopping Rulruka’s heart without a trace.

  With calculated precision, he removed his gecko gloves and placed them into Rulruka’s stomach, allowing the stomach acids to dissolve them. Then, he did the same with his left shoe.

  Finally, gripping the pillar with force, he stretched out his right leg and drove his remaining shoe deep into Rulruka’s stomach.

  Pinaka double-checked his work using his Authority over Flesh, ensuring the stomach acids had begun breaking down the four objects.

  Rulruka hadn’t been weighed in a while—an additional two kilograms wouldn’t raise any suspicion. The scent wasn’t an issue either; his natural petrichor-like aroma would mask any foreign elements.

  That meant Pinaka could get away with hiding his creations inside Rulruka’s body.

  With Rulruka dead, a new Elf would soon be assigned to his place at the potion factory.

  Either Pinaka took over that position—or he assumed the identity of the next replacement. "It’s too risky to take Rulruka’s identity… his days were already numbered. I can, with effort, modify my body, and wear the skin of the person I replace."

  “So, I need to wear an identity that allows me to be the potion factory for as long as possible. Consuming World Tree Fruits daily is the fastest way to build up my stats.”

  He carefully analyzed the floor, making sure he hadn’t left any traces of his presence. Once he was certain, he returned to his cell.

  Now, there was one final task.

  Pinaka extracted the concentrated sweat, flesh particles, and excess muscle mass from his own body. He added them into Rulruka’s stomach, along with his two thumbs—removing them painlessly thanks to his Authority over Flesh.

  With the scent markers expelled, his body now carried only the faintest trace of its previous scent—too weak for a human nose to detect.

  Satisfied, he sat down inside his cell.

  Then, with meticulous precision, he began recreating his injuries. Scars and scorch marks reappeared across his body, spreading over his skin like brushstrokes on a canvas. Pinaka took a moment to observe himself, using his flesh control to form a mental image of his body.

  ‘Good. I look exactly the same as before.’

  Next, he brought up his Status Window.

  ‘Now, I need to practice Status Epidermis and get it up to speed before the soldier arrives to wake everyone up.’

  …