"Are… are those actually Star Beasts?" Simon stammered, his eyes widening to the size of thermal regulators as he watched the bizarre scene unfolding before him on the dusty plains of Lunaris Vale: "I mean, they look like they're actually helping you, right? Look at that, the parched topsoil is finally getting a proper soaking!"
"They aren't exactly Star Beasts." Ewan explained, though he struggled to find a more scientifically accurate classification for the undulating, translucent entities. In this remote corner of the Empire, precise terminology was often a luxury: "Actually… I suppose you could consider them a subtype of Star Beast if it helps you sleep at night. Regardless, they don't harbor a single kilobyte of malice toward us. They are Slimes that I summoned myself. To be honest, my Talent is Summoning, but for some reason, the cosmos decided I only needed to pull these little bouncing mochi balls out of the ether."
Thinking of his Slimes as nothing more than sentient, oversized mochi ball made Ewan chuckle softly to himself. However, the little Slimes standing beside him were clearly offended by the culinary comparison. Having a surprisingly keen sense of dignity for creatures made of jelly, they began bouncing up and down with indignant energy, wobbling their gelatinous bodies in a spirited, silent protest against their big brother calling them snacks.
"Easy now, settle down." Ewan said with a grin, patting their gooey, translucent heads to soothe their ruffled feathers before turning his attention back to Simon: "I know they are Elemental Slimes, so I wanted to run a few preliminary field tests to see if their biological functions could be repurposed for labor. Fortunately, these little rascals have proven to be quite industrious pioneers of the soil. Just look at the progress they've made..."
Ewan gestured with a sweeping motion toward the perimeter of the field where the stubborn, overgrown grass had been cleanly sliced and then systematically incinerated by his previous duo of summons. He then pointed to nearly a fifth of the massive field that was now thoroughly saturated with water, the dark earth smelling of fresh rain: "They're pretty handy, aren't they? At least we won't have to break our backs hauling heavy water buckets back and forth from the well like we're living in some pre-spaceflight dark age."
"Whoa, that is seriously impressive! No, it's more than that, it's legendary!" Simon exclaimed, unable to hide the sheer awe reflecting in his eyes. He looked at the Slimes as if they were top-of-the-line agricultural droids sent straight from Capitalis Planet: "No wonder my mother always says that those who manage to Talent are destined for greatness. You are incredibly cool, Ewan! You're like a one-man terraforming squad!"
Caught off guard by the raw, unfiltered sincerity in Simon's wide-eyed admiration, Ewan rubbed the back of his neck, feeling a flush of embarrassment creep up his cheeks: "It's not really as grand as it looks, Simon. Actually, this Talent is..."
Ewan was on the verge of admitting that, in any civilized sector of the Empire, his Summoning Talent would be technically classified as bottom-tier, perhaps even a "glitch" in the Awakening process. By the standards of the Galactic Federation, summoning puddles of goo was hardly "grand." However, he bit his tongue just in time, fearing it would sound like false modesty or some kind of weird, high-brow flex to the simple villagers.
It was painfully clear from the reactions of the locals that any form of Supernatural Talent, even one involving sentient gelatin, was considered a miracle here on Anvia Planet. Even if Ewan could only summon what looked like sentient puddles of jelly, the fact that they could handle the grueling, soul-crushing heavy lifting of daily agricultural labor made them more valuable than a fleet of starships to the people of this village. Thus, he settled for a sheepish grin and another awkward scratch of his head.
Simon, completely oblivious to Ewan's internal existential crisis about his power level, pressed on with infectious, youthful excitement: "So, let me get this straight, does this mean we only have to worry about the physical tilling of the soil now? Man, your Slimes are absolute game-changers! You can just bring them out to the fields every morning and the irrigation is practically handled by your Personal Terminal's commands! This is the life!"
As Simon's praise escalated to even more hyperbolic levels, Ewan's embarrassment deepened into a mild panic. Hearing the boy mention the back-breaking work of tilling, Ewan quickly waved his hands in a frantic "stop" motion, nearly knocking over a nearby Slime: "Wait, wait! There's absolutely no need for us to till anything manually today! Please, Simon, whatever you do, don't go running off to find a hoe or a plow!"
Ewan was genuinely concerned that if he didn't speak up within the next three seconds, this earnest, hyperactive, and incredibly helpful young man would sprint all the way back to the village to fetch heavy tools just to help him out of pure goodness of heart. He reached out, catching Simon by the shoulder to steady him, and pointed toward a specific ochre-colored blob that was currently performing a series of rhythmic, heavy thumps in the distance: "Do you see that earthy-yellow one jumping around over there? The one that looks like a moving mound of clay?"
Once Simon nodded, his eyes fixed on the vibrating yellow creature, Ewan continued his technical briefing: "That's an Earth Elemental Slime. It has the unique biological ability to burrow and phase through the ground with minimal resistance. Once Bubbly, that's the blue one currently hydrating the parched soil, is finished and the ground has softened enough to be malleable, Shiny will dive right in. It'll churn the earth from the inside out, aerating it perfectly." Ewan began miming the action with his hands, swirling them through the air in a circular motion to describe how the Slime would dive deep, flip the nutrient-rich soil to the surface, and breach again like a dolphin: "Yeah, it's basically a self-propelled, living bio-plow!"
"No way! That is absolutely, one hundred percent legendary!"
Simon's eyes were practically popping out of his head, his jaw hanging low enough to catch space-flies.
"With companions like these by your side, farming in Lunaris Vale is going to be a total breeze from now on. Asher Ryder will finally be able to focus on the actual planting and care of the crops alongside you without working himself into an early grave from exhaustion. It won't be a constant struggle for survival anymore."
Simon beamed, his eyes crinkling into genuine, happy crescents. Ewan watched him and felt a strange warmth in his chest. He could sense the profound sincerity in the boy's smile. There was plenty of admiration there, certainly, but not a single spark of jealousy or resentment. Simon was simply, purely happy to know that such a convenient and efficient way to farm existed in the world, even if it wasn't his own power.
In his vast, weary existence as a soul that had endured for ten thousand years, Ewan had witnessed the rise and fall of countless civilizations. He knew that humans were a kaleidoscopic species. Some were inherently virtuous, living entire lives defined by kindness, while others were petty, small-minded creatures driven only by greed and the pursuit of their own interests.
Though Ewan hadn't spent much time interacting with the "human heart" in this specific corner of the galaxy yet, his ancient intuition was as sharp as ever. He had felt the sharp, jagged edge of hostility and venomous envy emanating from someone like Gigi right from the very beginning. It was a familiar, ugly scent.
But right now, looking at Simon, all he felt was the crystalline purity of the young man's spirit.
It touched Ewan deeply, more than he cared to admit. Simon was so genuinely magnanimous that he was willing to go to great lengths to help a complete stranger, even offering his own labor for free. Even though Asher Ryder served as the original bridge between them, it didn't change the fact that Ewan was beginning to view Simon not just as a neighbor, but as his first true friend in this strange new life.
"By the way, Simon, has your family finished watering your own fields yet today?" Ewan asked, trying to steer the conversation toward something more practical.
"Yeah, we're all wrapped up. You have to get the watering done early in these parts. It's not as flexible as dealing with an empty, fallow plot like this one. If the soil sits in that harsh noon sun for too long and gets heat-soaked, pouring cold water on the roots will just shock the plants and kill your yield." Simon explained, slapping the dust and grit off his palms with a practiced air: "So my family pushed through and finished up around noon. That's actually how I was able to borrow this high-capacity watering can to bring over here."
He gave a cheeky, lopsided grin, clearly proud of his efficiency.
Ewan scanned the horizon, looking at the primitive tools scattered about, and then asked a question that had been gnawing at his mind since he arrived: "Tell me something... don't you guys have mechanical water pumps here? Is it always this manual? Do you really have to carry every single liter by hand?"
Ewan had been operating under the assumption that since this planet was technically part of a space-faring Empire, some level of basic mechanical automation would be commonplace. He was trying to gauge the actual level of technological decay or modernization on Anvia Planet.
Even though every local he met kept insisting on how backwater and destitute this place was, he hadn't yet determined exactly which "era" of human history they were currently mimicking. To build a sustainable, long-term survival plan, he needed to understand the baseline of his environment. Was he in a post-apocalyptic wasteland or just a very poor suburb of the stars?
"A water pump? You mean those mythical machines that can automatically siphon water from the stream and pipe it directly up to the fields without a human touch?" Seeing Ewan nod, Simon let out a long, heavy sigh that seemed to carry the weight of generations: "I mean, sure, they exist in theory, but you'd have to travel all the way to Silverton Town to even see one in person."
"Silverton Town again... it always comes back to that place, doesn't it?" Ewan muttered under his breath, noting the recurring theme.
"Yeah, well, it's because they have that... uh... electricity. Right, that's the word. Electricity..." Simon explained, stumbling slightly over the technical term as if it were a magic spell: "You need a power grid to run those heavy machines, and we just don't have that kind of infrastructure out here in the fringes. Back when Mr. Ryder was still alive, he used to take Asher Ryder and my older brother to Silverton Town a few times a year to trade our surplus goods for supplies. My brother told me it's like another world there. He said people use machines for everything, from cooking to cleaning. They hardly have to lift a finger or break a sweat."
Simon's voice took on a dreamy, faraway quality as he recalled his brother's stories: "My brother said they have electricity and lights that shine so bright they turn night into day, nothing like the flickering, smoky candles we use. Even the schools are better. They don't have to write on recycled paper or scratch their lessons into the dirt like we do. They have these glowing boxes where they type everything out. I think they call them "computers" or something like that."
The more Simon talked, the deeper Ewan's internal sighs became. The technological disparity between this village and the central town was absolutely staggering. It was a bizarre, fractured society, one side was living in a quasi-medieval struggle for survival, while the other seemed to be a functioning, albeit perhaps dated, rural hub of the modern galactic age.
Then again, it made sense in a grim way. Although it was simply called a "Town," Ewan suspected it served as the primary administrative and resource hub for this entire sector of the planet, which meant it was likely separated from Lunaris Vale by a massive geographical and economic gulf.
"Just how far is the trek from here to Silverton Town?" Ewan asked, already fearing the answer.
"If the weather holds and you don't run into any trouble on the road, a round trip takes nearly two months. And that's not even counting the time you'd need to spend there conducting business or waiting for trades."
Just as he had suspected, the logistics were a nightmare. The only way to travel in this region was by land. Whether it was on foot or by some slow-moving beast of burden, the travel speed was abysmal and the geographical distance was immense. It was a recipe for isolation.
"Then... if the distance is the problem, has no one ever tried building simple wooden water wheels or gravity-fed aqueducts to move the water? Those don't require a single spark of electricity. It's just basic physics."
"Huh? A wooden wheel that... moves water? What in the galaxy are you talking about, Ewan? Is that some kind of Summoning magic too?"
Ewan found himself struck dumb once again, his mouth opening and closing like a landed fish. Didn't someone just mention that the people here actually went to school? What exactly were they teaching in those classes if the concept of a water wheel, one of the oldest inventions in human history, was considered alien technology or high-level magic?
Just what on earth, or rather, what on Anvia, were these people actually studying in here!