The Verdant Sovereign

[System Active – Cycle 00012]

Status: Rooted

Primary Objective: Survival

Secondary Directive: Data Acquisition

Mana Core Activity: Slowly Increasing

It’s been two—no, three years since I became a tree. A lot has changed since I first reached 50% saturation in my mana core. Back then, the pulsing of my core felt foreign, something I had to focus on—like controlling each breath. Now, it’s second nature. I don’t even notice it anymore. It’s just there, constant, like breathing used to be… back when I still had lungs. It’s become normal—an unconscious rhythm at the center of everything I am.

Each wave of mana radiating outward from my core doesn’t just passively spread anymore. It moves with gravity. With purpose. The nearby flora have aligned with me so tightly now that I can sense them even in stillness, like a shared breath held beneath the soil. Their presence drapes around mine like a forest exhaling in rhythm.

It’s been over two years since I stopped counting the hours.

Since the last tectonic shift—one that nearly split me apart a year ago—I’ve remained in near-constant growth. The silence hasn’t changed, and no beasts have entered my reach. But the world above me has.

And so have I.

I’ve become… massive.

Not just in mana core size or saturation. Physically. My trunk, once modest, now measures at least twelve meters across, its bark layered and deeply ridged with mineral-infused strength. I stretch upward—a full seventy meters tall, if not more—towering over every living thing I can sense. From the depths of my roots to the crown of my upper branches, I have become a living spire at the heart of something greater.

A forest. No—my forest.

It didn’t begin this way. But the world responded to me, even if it didn't speak.

The area surrounding me has developed distinct layers—concentric rings of life, like ripples cast outward from the heartbeat of my core.

Closest to me, within my deepest mana influence, are the largest plants. Enormous bushes as tall as ten meters, and thick vines spanning thirty to forty meters long. They crawl up my bark like living scaffolds, clinging, reaching, spiraling. The trees here are titans in their own right—rising thirty-five meters, gnarled and dark-barked, but none come close to my height. They form a defensive perimeter around me, like lesser guardians under a queen’s command.

Further out, beyond that inner ring, lies the second level. The flora here are smaller—trees between ten to fifteen meters tall, thinner vines, more compact bushes—but still unusually dense and hardy. Their roots twist in quiet patterns across the earth, drawing in mana not directly from the air, but from the pulse I emit.

The third level fades into the edge of my sensing range. The trees here are what I would’ve once called ‘normal’—five to ten meters tall, thin branches, lighter leaves. But even these plants, at the farthest distance, grow denser and more resilient than anything I’ve seen before. A fringe of wilderness shaped by indirect influence.

It’s strange. The world beyond this zone is… quieter. Like life exists out there, evolving without my hand, but hasn’t yet reached me. No beasts, no birds. Only flora. And I can’t help but wonder—am I alone because nothing dares come near? Or because the world is simply too large?

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

A new trait quietly answered that question a few months ago.

> [New Trait Unlocked: Heart of the Forest (Passive)]

> Plant-based organisms within core influence grow more rapidly and develop mana sensitivity. Certain flora may attempt to bond, protect, or emulate the user. Minor shared sensory link possible with aligned species.

It startled me at first. But I see the pattern now—this forest didn’t just grow with me.

It grew for me.

My mana doesn't merely nurture—it binds. Guides. The strongest plants at my core’s edge have started responding like extensions of myself. When a breeze moves through their branches, I feel it. When a vine tightens around my trunk, I know its direction. It’s not true vision, but it’s closer than I’ve ever had.

And… I can command, a little.

That discovery came by accident. One of the older vines near my base, unusually responsive, had been arching toward my lower trunk for weeks. I pushed a small pulse of intent toward it—nothing precise, just a suggestion of movement.

It obeyed.

Now I’m trying something more ambitious. Not domination. Training.

The same vine—thicker than most, ten meters across, oversized—had begun following my cues more consistently. When I extend a pulse to indicate upward growth, it climbs. When I try to encourage spreading or rooting, it obeys slowly. It's clumsy, but it listens.

I think I’ve found my first subordinate.

A creature of vine. Primitive, but sensitive. If it continues to respond, I might be able to send it out farther than my roots reach or maybe use it to explore the edges of my influence. Test the land. Even scout, or maybe defend me.

I haven’t named it yet. But it feels different from the rest.

It’s not a beast. Not yet. But it is… becoming.

My experiments have evolved alongside it.

I’ve started pushing my mana in finer and finer threads—testing how far it can reach when not bound to roots or growth, but suspended in air, or draped across leaves. I pull it taut, like invisible strings woven across the forest floor, or wind it in spirals around tree trunks and vines. It’s exhausting work, but it’s given me something new.

> New Trait Unlocked: [Mana Sight]

> Active. By spreading mana thinly across an area, the user gains full-spectrum environmental awareness. Allows detection of shape, motion, composition, color, and mana presence. Can perceive through obstacles and sense active mana channels.

I can finally see.

Not in the way I remember from my human life. Not with eyes. But by layering mana like paint across everything I touch, the world reveals itself to me in heat and color and pressure and shape.

The vine? It's dark emerald, striated with lines of dull amber. The forest itself glows softly, a spectrum of greens and browns and golds. Even the air carries motes of color—loose mana, drifting lazily, swirling when I breathe too deeply.

And below me… there is a pressure.

Not from the roots, but deeper.

When I directed a deeper current of mana far beneath the surface—to create an anchor point, or simply to observe—I felt the slow, seething grind of something impossibly vast. A plateau of tension. A humming silence that resonated with memory.

The tectonic plates.

The very bones of this world. Sleeping, mostly. But restless.

The last time one of them moved, it nearly tore me in half. That memory is seared into my rings—splintering pain, core distortion, the groan of stone beneath mana-slicked soil.

But this time… I felt it building. A pressure. The more I soothed it with mana, the more it pushed back. Like massaging a clenched jaw only for the muscle to tense again harder. My pulses calm it—for now. But that calm creates a debt. A delay. Pressure that will eventually snap free.

I need to move out of the way before that happens.

…Which, obviously, won’t be happening anytime soon.

Still, the warning sits at the base of my core like sediment. I can’t stop soothing the plates—if I do, they might move sooner. But if I keep doing it, I might be making it worse.

And yet I keep growing. Keep pulsing.

Because I am the forest now.

And there’s nowhere I can run to.

[System Summary – End of Chapter 00012]

Root Expansion: +311.4 m

Total Root Depth: 438.6 m

Mana Absorbtion Rate: +29.7 m/hr

Core Status: 72.9% Saturation

Traits Unlocked: Heart of the Forest and Mana Sight

Environmental Observations:

‣ No beasts detected

‣ Dense plant growth in layered concentric rings

‣ Primitive vine lifeform responding to intent

‣ Mana-formed forest ecosystem expanding

‣ Seismic tension building at deep layers

Time Since Rebirth: ~3 year