The next morning, Borin did not come alone. He was accompanied by two other old men whose faces suggested wisdom and skepticism in equal measure. They were the village elders. Kenzo sat before them in Elara's hut, feeling the tense atmosphere that filled the small room.
Their council was a long one. Borin acted as the main interpreter, using gestures and a limited vocabulary to convey the elders' questions and Kenzo's answers. They asked sensible things: how long would it take? How many people would be needed? Where did a stranger like him get such an idea?
Kenzo answered honestly and practically, aided by quick calculations from Prometheus. "Ten days," he said, holding up ten fingers. "Five people," he showed five fingers. For the last question, he simply pointed to his own head.
After a lengthy discussion among themselves, one of the elders finally gave a slow nod. Borin turned to Kenzo, his expression serious.
Borin began his explanation with a firm nod: a sign of consent. He then pointed toward the forest, mimicked the charging motion of the 'Stone Boar', and then made a circular motion with his hand as if to indicate the passing of seasons. The message was clear: the threat was drawing nearer, and they had to try anything.
He then raised both his hands, showing ten fingers, before shaking his head—not everyone. He pointed to the hunters and farmers, mimicking the motions of shooting a bow and hoeing. They had to keep working. Finally, he held up five fingers and pointed at Kenzo. He gestured to some of the youths, patting his bicep to indicate strength, then gestured to some of the older men while making the sign of a stooped back.
Kenzo nodded. He understood. He wouldn't get the best team, only the leftover manpower. He expected nothing more. This was his first challenge: working with limited resources.
The work began that afternoon. The first step was a survey. Accompanied by Borin, Kenzo walked the perimeter of the village that needed protection. While Borin relied on pacing and estimation, Kenzo only needed to glance at a spot.
"Prometheus, distance from here to that large tree?" [34.7 meters.] "The slope of the ground?" [Approximately a 3-degree decline.]
Kenzo then marked the trench line by sticking small twigs into the ground with a precision that astonished Borin. How could this man measure distances so accurately just by looking?
The real problem arose when they were about to start digging. The tools given to him were a collection of dull wooden shovels and a few stone axes. Their work efficiency would be incredibly low.
As the volunteers—three eager youths and two sturdy old men—gathered, Kenzo saw a large boulder obstructing the planned path of the trench. The young men tried to push it together, but the rock barely budged.
"Wait," Kenzo said.
He picked up a long, sturdy log lying nearby and placed it over a smaller stone, wedging the end of the log under the large boulder they wanted to move. The villagers watched him, confused.
Kenzo then pressed down on the other end of the log with his full body weight. With a creaking sound, the large boulder that three men couldn't move was now pried from the ground.
The volunteers stared with their mouths agape. This wasn't magic. It was something so simple, yet it had never occurred to them. Kenzo had just demonstrated the basic principle of the lever.
With this new "trick," the team's morale skyrocketed. Kenzo didn't just give orders; he worked alongside them, showing them how to use the lever effectively and setting a work rhythm to prevent exhaustion. Respect began to grow between them. Lina, the girl he had saved, would occasionally bring them drinks, her smile serving as a constant reminder to everyone why they had to trust this stranger.
The project went smoothly for two days. However, while digging on the northern side of the village, their shovels struck something with a loud clang. Not dirt, not a normal stone. After digging further, they uncovered a layer of solid, bluish bedrock, stretching underground as far as the eye could see.
Their simple tools were useless. The stone axes only left small scratches on its surface. The project came to a complete halt. The faces of the once-enthusiastic volunteers were now filled with despair.
"The Cursed Stone," one of the old men muttered. "It can't be broken." The other old man added, "Only Old Man Haelan can break a stone like this."
Borin seemed hesitant at the name, but seeing the desperation on his people's faces, he had no choice. He turned to Kenzo and gestured for him to follow.
They walked to the edge of the village, to a hut more secluded than the others. There, a very old man with a long white beard sat on his porch, carving a piece of wood. This was Haelan, the village's old mage.
After Borin respectfully explained the situation, Haelan let out a long sigh and rose with the help of his staff. He walked slowly to the bedrock site, followed by the workers and a very curious Kenzo.
Haelan performed no dramatic gestures. He simply placed his wrinkled palm on the cold stone surface. He closed his eyes and began to speak in a low but clear voice, using the same Tragam language as the villagers.
"O silent stone, hear my command. Loosen your bonds. Release your strength. Become as brittle as dry earth."
Kenzo watched with bated breath. This was... magic. Real magic. An old man was talking to a rock, and Kenzo could feel the energy in the air thrum in response to his words. A dim, earthy brown light began to spread from Haelan's palm, seeping into the stone. The process was slow, and Haelan's face was beaded with sweat from concentration.
Just as Kenzo felt a sense of awe, the cold voice of Prometheus cut through his wonder.
[Analyzing vocal syntax... Language: Tragam. Redundancy detected.] [Analyzing mana flow... Significant inefficiency detected.]
"What do you mean... inefficient?" Kenzo thought, confused. "He's about to shatter a rock with words. How is that inefficient?"
After nearly a full minute, Haelan finished his chant and pulled his hand away. A deep cracking sound came from within the stone, and the massive rock split into several pieces. The volunteers cheered.
[Based on my analysis, Host, this is my hypothesis,] Prometheus explained patiently amidst the cheers. [This data is not definitive, but it is highly probable that the 'rules' of this world allow intent expressed through language to manipulate mana energy. Imagine those words as a computer script. Based on the energy patterns, it is likely that only the words 'loosen' and 'brittle' functioned as the core commands. The rest of the sentence was unnecessary poetic flourish, which consumed his energy for no result.]
The volunteers were busy moving the stone fragments. Haelan, looking utterly exhausted, simply walked back to his hut. Borin clapped Kenzo on the back cheerfully. But Kenzo didn't move.
Prometheus's explanation buzzed in his head. His mind raced, connecting the concept he had just learned to his own world. Script... core commands... unnecessary lines of code...
He stared at the broken rock, and for the first time, he saw two things at once. On one hand, he saw a miracle proof that magic was real. On the other, thanks to Prometheus, he saw a system. An incredibly powerful programming language, but used by people who had apparently never thought to question or simplify their code.
Borin saw the strange expression on Kenzo's face. The stranger was staring at the broken rock with a look that was no longer just awe, but the look of an inventor on the verge of a great discovery.
Kenzo didn't know how to rewrite the code yet. But for the first time, he realized that in this world, he might be the only person who could learn to write a whole new language.