The trench construction project resumed with an unexpected vigor. The news of how Haelan had broken the "Cursed Stone" had spread, but the volunteers had also seen with their own eyes how Kenzo's lever "trick" had multiplied their work speed. The mix of revered ancient magic and the stranger's odd logic created a new optimism in the village.
Kenzo supervised, ensuring the trench's depth matched his calculations and the slope of its walls was precise. However, his mind wasn't fully present. Like a background process, his thoughts kept replaying the previous day's events: the dim light from Haelan's hand, the murmur of his chant, and the cold analysis from Prometheus. His awe as a man witnessing a miracle clashed with the curiosity of an engineer seeing an inefficient system. He had to know more. He had to understand the rules.
After the day's work was done and the volunteers returned to their families, Kenzo didn't go straight back to Elara's hut. With some hesitation, he took some of the best orange fruits Borin had given him, wrapped them in a large leaf, and walked towards Haelan's secluded hut.
He arrived as dusk began to fall, painting the sky in a palette of purple and orange. Haelan's hut was smaller and older than the others, with a moss-covered thatched roof and strange carvings on its doorframe. The old mage was sitting on his porch, carving a small piece of wood, the air filled with the calming scent of cedar. He looked up as Kenzo approached, his sharp eyes seeming as if he had been expecting him.
Kenzo bowed slightly, a universal gesture of respect he hoped would be understood, and placed the bundle of fruit on the porch steps. Haelan observed the gift for a moment, then nodded and gestured for Kenzo to sit on the steps.
Their communication was difficult and clumsy. Kenzo started by pointing to himself, then to the distant fractured bedrock, and finally to Haelan, clasping his hands together as a sign of thanks and admiration. Haelan only offered a faint smile.
Then, driven by his purpose, Kenzo tried to explain what he wanted. He cupped his hands, trying to imitate Haelan's gesture from the day before, and mumbled the few Tragam words he vaguely remembered. Of course, nothing happened.
Haelan let out a small chuckle, the sound as dry as rustling leaves. It wasn't a mocking laugh, but the amused laugh of a teacher watching a clumsy yet eager student. He understood.
The old mage decided to teach him the most basic offensive magic, a test to measure a person's elemental affinity: Fireball.
"My strength is in the earth," Haelan explained through gestures, pointing to the ground with his palm. He then made a small flame motion with his fingers and shook his head slightly. "Fire... small." The message was clear: this was his weaker, secondary element.
He raised his palm. "Watch," he instructed. He then began to chant in a low, solemn voice.
"O spark from the mountain's heart, O breath of ancient dragons, lend me your fury. Gather, form, become a projectile of searing heat."
As Haelan chanted, Kenzo felt the energy in the air tremble, a faint heat gathering around the mage's hand.
[Observing process...] Prometheus analyzed. [User is constructing a 'Fire Formula' through vocalization. Each poetic phrase serves as a mental anchor for a formula component.]
In Haelan's palm, a ball of fire appeared. It was only the size of a baseball, its light a flickering reddish-orange and slightly unstable, as if struggling to maintain its shape. After a few seconds, Haelan exhaled and the flame vanished. He looked slightly tired. He then looked at Kenzo and gestured for him to try.
Kenzo tried. He mimicked every word and gesture meticulously. But it was no use. His hands remained cold. He tried again, concentrating harder, but the result was the same. Frustration began to creep in.
"Why can't I do it? What am I missing?" he thought.
[Hypothesis: You are merely mimicking the user interface (the spoken spell), not processing the logic behind it (the magical formula),] Prometheus explained. [Those words are Haelan's way to focus. Since you do not share the same context, the words do not help you. Stop mimicking. Let us build the formula directly.]
"Formula?"
[Correct. Based on the analysis, the 'Fireball Formula' just executed consists of the following core commands: 1. Define spatial coordinates. 2. Draw ambient mana. 3. Convert mana into thermal and kinetic energy. 4. Contain the energy in a spherical field. 5. Execution command: 'Fire'. Haelan's long chant is a highly inefficient method of executing these five steps.]
The explanation was like a lightning strike in Kenzo's mind. He had been approaching the problem all wrong. He was trying to be an actor when he should have been an engineer.
He took a deep breath, ignoring the poetic chant. He raised his hand, closed his eyes, and with the help of data projections from Prometheus, he began to "build" the formula in his mind, step by step, logically and efficiently. Once the formula felt solid in his mind, he only needed an execution trigger.
He opened his eyes and uttered a single, concise command, filled with intent and focus: "Fire."
What happened next was beyond anyone's expectations. It wasn't a small, baseball-sized flame. From Kenzo's palm, a basketball-sized sphere of fire erupted into existence. Its color wasn't reddish-orange, but a blinding bluish-white, spinning with perfect stability and radiating such intense heat that Haelan took a step back in shock.
And most importantly, Kenzo felt almost no fatigue.
Haelan was aghast. He stared at the massive fireball in Kenzo's hand, then at Kenzo himself. His usually sleepy eyes were wide open, filled with shock, disbelief, and something else—admiration mixed with a hint of fear.
He knew his own fire affinity was only 20%, which was why his fireball was small. To produce a flame of that size, a mage would need an affinity of at least 80% or more. But Haelan had also seen Kenzo's earth magic when he created the bird sculpture yesterday, which had also been perfect.
The old mage, for the first time, spoke to Kenzo as if he were an equal. Through broken gestures and words, he asked, "Who... are you?" He didn't ask "where are you from," but "who" are you, implying he recognized Kenzo was something fundamentally different from a normal mage.
Before Kenzo could answer, the piercing sound of a horn from the village watchtower shattered the afternoon silence. It was the danger signal.
Borin ran towards them, his face pale with panic. He shouted, "They're coming! The Stone Boars! More of them than usual!" Haelan looked toward the approaching horde with concern. Borin looked at their untested defenses. But both Haelan's and Borin's eyes finally landed on Kenzo, the stranger who had just demonstrated impossible magic.
The real test was about to begin.