Ewan sat cross-legged on the edge of the porch, acting as the conductor for this elemental orchestra. He watched every movement with hawk-like intensity, his mind extended to monitor the status of his summons. Every now and then, he would send a pulse of mental energy to correct a deviation.
"Dusty, sector four, on the left flank! There's a massive deposit of clay down there. Don't go around it, crush it! Grind it down!"
"Flarie, back off! You're lingering too close to the edge. The heat is drying out the section Bubbly just watered. Reduce thermal output by ten percent!"
Beads of sweat began to bead on Ewan's forehead, trickling down his temples. Maintaining the physical manifestation of five distinct elemental entities simultaneously, while coordinating their complex mechanical actions, was taking a massive toll on his reserves. It was an exorbitant expenditure of Mental Strength, especially for a body that was still recovering from the biological ravaged of a heat cycle just the night before.
The gland at the nape of his neck began to throb with a dull, rhythmic heat. Without him realizing it, the strain caused his control over his pheromones to slip. A faint, sweet scent of Champagne Roses began to leak out, drifting on the breeze and mingling with the smell of wet earth.
Suddenly, a tiny, trembling voice echoed in Ewan's mind, breaking his concentration.
[Big Brother... what about me...? Do I... do I not have a job?]
Ewan started, looking down at his lap. There, resting in the curve of his palm, was Mossy. The Wood Slime was the smallest of the group, a pale, translucent green that looked fragile enough to disperse in a strong wind. It looked up at him with large, watery eyes, radiating a sense of inadequacy. Unlike its siblings, Mossy was inherently weaker because this planet, and this wasteland specifically, was almost devoid of wood elemental energy for it to draw upon.
Ewan's expression softened immediately. He reached down with a finger, gently stroking the Slime's cool, jelly-like head.
"I haven't forgotten you, little one. How could I? You are the star of today's show." Ewan said, his voice gentle and reassuring: "Look at the yard. The soil is clean, it's tilled, and it's hydrated. But technically, it is still 'Dead Soil' because it lacks the spark of life. It has no nutrients, no biological activity. I need you to breathe life into it."
Mossy shrank back slightly, its light dimming: [But... I'm so hungry. I feel so empty. I don't think I have the strength to do magic...]
"I know." Ewan soothed. He closed his eyes and raised two fingers to the center of his forehead, focusing his mind. He recalled the cultivation techniques embedded in the memories of his original body, methods of manipulating and transferring energy.
Gritting his teeth against the fatigue, Ewan successfully distilled a thread of the purest Mental Strength he could muster. He visualized it as a golden filament, guiding it from his mind and gently feeding it into Mossy's core.
"I will share my energy with you. We'll do this together." Ewan whispered: "You don't need to create a forest. Just wake them up. Wake up the sleeping microorganisms in the dirt."
As the energy flooded into it, Mossy underwent a transformation. It was like plugging a dying battery into a supercharger. The pale green body suddenly flared with brilliance, the color deepening into a rich, verdant emerald green. It vibrated with newfound vigor, expanding slightly in size.
[Okay! I feel it! I'll try!] Mossy shouted telepathically.
With a determined hop, the Wood Slime leaped from Ewan's hand and landed plop in the center of the dark, tilled square.
From its small body, countless ethereal, translucent roots shot out. They weren't physical roots, but energetic tendrils that plunged deep into the moist, warm earth, spreading out like a neural network.
And then, a miracle occurred.
Ewan felt a sudden, powerful resonance. His pheromones, the scent of Champagne Roses, which had been leaking due to his exhaustion, were sucked into the reaction. Usually, these pheromones were a signal for mating, a biological lure for Alphas. But here, mixed with the pure Wood elemental magic, they underwent a catalytic conversion.
The pheromones ceased to be a scent of desire and became the scent of creation. They acted as a super-stimulant, not for people, but for nature itself.
Mossy squealed in delight: [Whoa! Big Brother, your smell! It tastes so yummy! It makes me feel strong!]
Empowered by this unique fuel source, Mossy began to pump vitality into the ground. It pulled nitrogen from the air, fixing it into the soil. It sent signals to the microscopic fungi and bacteria that had been dormant for decades, kickstarting their reproductive cycles.
The symbiotic relationship exploded into action. The spores multiplied at a supernatural rate. The patch of dark brown earth began to emit a soft, visible haze of warmth. It wasn't the searing heat of fire, but the gentle, humid warmth of a compost pile, the heat of biological metabolism.
Ewan closed his eyes, his sensitivity heightened by the link. He could feel the pulse of the earth. He could feel the soil breathing.
What had been a pile of dead, sterile grit was transforming into a living ecosystem, teeming with billions of microscopic lives, ready to nurture whatever seed was placed within its embrace.
"Just a little more, Mossy. You're doing amazing..." Ewan whispered, his voice raspy. His shirt was soaked through with sweat, clinging to his back, but he didn't dare break the connection.
The process continued for hours, a silent communion between boy, slime, and earth. It wasn't until the harsh white light of the alien sun began to soften, painting the sky in brilliant hues of burnt orange and violet, that Ewan finally sensed the saturation point had been reached.
He slowly lowered his hand, severing the energy flow, and signaled for the work to cease.
"Alright! That's a wrap! Cease all motor functions, everyone!"
At Ewan's command, the magical connection snapped shut. Mossy, the little Wood Slime, immediately retracted his translucent green pseudopods. He curled in on himself, collapsing onto the dirt like a deflated balloon or a puddle of exhausted lime jelly, his mental voice wheezing in Ewan's mind.
[Whew... system overload... I think I'm going to faint, Big Brother. No energy left...]