New Paradise (5)
“Trust me and leave it to me. I’ll return safely.”
“I trust you. I have to.”
The day had finally arrived. Ren, who had diligently prepared over the past few days, stood before the World Tree with his packed belongings. Serenian saw him off with a worried expression.
She knew the mission Ren had taken on was essential, but the corrupted kin would surely try to capture him, making it incredibly dangerous. And if Ren were caught, that would be a problem in itself. If word got out that this exile land, known as such, was dreaming of a new paradise, the enemies would invade without fail.
There’s no helping it. Nothing but succeeding and putting her mind at ease.
Ren understood the heart of the young clan leader who, despite her youth, had endured all sorts of hardships. But he knew words of comfort, no matter how many times spoken, wouldn’t help now—he had to prove it with results.
“World Tree, open the door once more. So that he may bring back our kin.”
Serenian invoked the World Tree’s power, parting the firmly sealed rift. With a sharp crack, Ren leaped through the gap without hesitation.
It won’t be hard.
Ren’s eyes gleamed with venom. This wasn’t just a mission for the community. It was to lay the foundation for revenge against his sworn enemies. Growing stronger and one day exacting vengeance on them, as Serenian had said—that was what he craved.
“Hoo.”
Before he knew it, he was in a completely different place. Compared to the forest Serenian had nurtured with the young World Tree, this was a dark, majestic, shadowy woodland of equal antiquity.
A small crevice in a rock wall beside a massive waterfall that deafened the ears—that was the entrance to and from Eden.
To the village.
Ren took a deep breath and began moving swiftly. He already had a plan. He knew he couldn’t fill his belly with one drink, so first, he’d persuade those like him—those suffering, tormented, and hating the enemy—to come along.
“...No way.”
But when Ren arrived near the village, he froze, unable to believe his eyes. The elf village, once nestled in the heart of a lush forest, had utterly transformed.
Trees had vanished across a vast expanse of land, exposing the soil where crops now grew. And there, the villagers toiled wearily in the fields. It was an utterly alien, shocking sight.
The elves of the great primeval forest, overseen by the World Tree, had no need to farm—they lived abundantly without it.
Bin.
Just then, Ren spotted a male elf approaching the forest where he hid and let out a low groan. Recognizing him, Ren saw the axe in his hand and realized he’d come to chop wood.
“Bin. It’s me, Ren.”
“Huh? H-heek?!”
As the trudging Bin set down his load and picked up the axe, Ren stepped out quietly and spoke. Bin turned with hollow eyes, gasped in shock at the sight of Ren, staggered, and thudded back against a tree.
“R-Ren! How?!”
“Calm down. A lot’s happened.”
He was more than flustered—his voice and eyes trembled violently. It took Ren over five minutes just to settle him.
“E-Everyone said you were dead. That after they stole your wife and you lost your mind, you went to the center and killed one of them? They tore the village apart searching.”
“That... sorry about that.”
“Doesn’t matter. Honestly, it felt good. Anyway, seeing you alive like this, looks like you escaped well.”
He finally calmed, giving a bitter smile as he looked Ren up and down. But the moment he did, his eyes flickered. The items Ren carried, the clothes he wore—they were all somehow different.
“Escaped, huh. Not wrong, but not entirely right either. Tell me first—what happened to the village?”
“H-Honestly, we need money. Everyone’s gone mad for it. They decided to grow crops, sell them, and started clearing land nearby for that reason.”
“M-Money?”
Ren stammered, momentarily unable to comprehend Bin’s answer. Money was a profoundly foreign word to elves, let alone craving and pursuing it.
“The traitors’ spread of human culture has corrupted us.”
Bin sighed, his face twisted as he spat it out—not just resentment or anger, but a self-mocking weariness.
“They started collecting taxes? The Elder Council?”
“If they just took it, that’d be better.”
The Elder Council represented the primeval forest elves, serving as a focal point for gathering tribal opinions during major events while worshiping the World Tree. But they were more a representative body than a ruling one. The elves had always lived in separate village units, uniting only against external threats.
After the revolution, though, the Council had transformed into a full governing body wielding absolute power.
“Not knowing what harm they might cause, we paid taxes by force, and as compensation, they started giving things. Most didn’t know what they were, but one thing was clear: they were human goods.”
Bin rummaged in his pouch and pulled out a small wooden vial. From it, he extracted fine white powder and openly offered it to Ren to taste.
“Salty. Too salty.”
“It’s salt. Very stimulating and novel to us.”
Ren grimaced and flicked his tongue at the intense salty hit on his tip. It was potent for elves.
“The traitors who’ve experienced it know too well. What we’re weak to, what we can’t help but fall into. I thought at first, ‘Why eat this crap?’ But curiosity got me once, and I fell into the trap. Can’t escape now.”
“So you need money to buy this stuff, and to earn it, you’re clearing land and farming.”
Ren’s face hardened. He’d thought they were just oppressed and suffering, but it wasn’t that simple.
No matter how he tried to persuade them of a new land hidden from enemies, a paradise, these corrupted kin wouldn’t come. Eden offered no more buying or receiving the enemies’ gifts.
The external influence on the entire primeval forest elf clan was already profound and immense.
“W-Where are you going!? The clan leader will worry...”
“I’ll be back soon. Keep today’s meeting secret until then.”
Having judged swiftly, Ren left his friend Bin and dashed back into the forest path. He was certain persuasion was impossible now.
“Salt, you say. They’ve corrupted us with that...”
“Yes, Clan Leader. They’ve already debased our kin.”
Returning to the flowerpot world, Ren reported everything with a somber expression. Serenian was shocked too, but she soon clamped her mouth shut.
“You never know. I’ll ask the divine spirit.”
“Pardon? But Clan Leader.”
“If we can have that salt too, wouldn’t it make convincing our kin easier?”
But Serenian thought differently. She didn’t see the elves’ craving for external culture as corruption.
“What are you saying? You haven’t seen their un-elf-like state...”
“We can’t stay unchanging forever. We paid the price and fell to the traitors—I no longer see that as the right path.”
Serenian looked down at her feet. Even these cushy, comfortable sandals she wore—gifts from the spirit—were external goods, weren’t they?
“Change is necessary, yes. Oppressing and exploiting kin through that change is corruption; change itself isn’t wrong.”
Through past experiences, she had forged her own conviction. Ren couldn’t refute her.
Staying stagnant had let the stronger seize everything, after all.
“If the divine spirit watching over this place truly grants us a miracle, I’ll take it and go once more.”
In the end, Ren bowed his head in agreement.
Right away, Serenian picked up the radio and called someone.
“Salt? Entirely possible. I could pile it mountain-high for you.”
“Really? I-I heard it’s rare and expensive.”
“Depends on the time and place.”
Seung-hyun chuckled at her tale. He’d just seasoned food with it minutes ago. The salt shaker he’d bought ages ago was nearly empty, but even a handful overflowed for the tiny flowerpot world.