Fifteen minutes later, the whole vibe had changed by the courtesy of two layers of trees I had grown, finally allowing the gathered two thousand people to see each other.

“You all gathered to address the call for a mission, one to keep our world a safer place, so that one day, our children don’t have to live in fear of monsters. I applaud your bravery!” I declared loudly, enough for the crowd to hear it.

The crowd shuffled, surprised by my declaration. “I have fought against untold dangers since that fateful day three years ago, and if there’s one thing I have learned, bravery doesn’t come from fancy Classes or impressive skills. There’s no Stat called Bravery or Courage. No, it comes from the people that dare to embrace the danger, regardless of their disadvantages, braving the unknown so that one day they can be strong enough to stem the tide. Here, I’m looking for two thousand such people!”

They watched me, some with doubt, others with a flicker of hope. I could see the shift in their eyes. It wasn’t my trite speech that was making the difference, but the display of respect from someone that they thought to be strong enough that they could never reach.

In a way, it wasn’t too different from receiving a compliment. It might be the lamest, the cheesiest compliments one could imagine, but if it came from a celebrity, it would still be enough to turn into a story they would tell to their children.

In a way, it was what was happening here. I was no different than a celebrity in their eyes, especially with all the gossip going on around me. I decided to reinforce it a little more. I drew my sword, and waved once, a mana blade rushing toward the tree line to cut down an insect.

The whispers of awe filled the opening, which even included the guards. My discussions with Eleanor had informed me of just how rare the existence of a magical warrior was, and since they would be staying here for the next six months, separated from the rest of the world, revealing that ability was a better idea than hiding it.

“People say that, since you’re Farmers, you don’t matter. That you’re only good for growing food. I say that’s wrong. You’ve faced bad seasons, monsters, bandits, and many bullies who wanted to squash you just because they were lucky enough to get a better class!” I continued, my gaze sweeping across the crowd. “I say no more! Here, I promise to help every single one of you to advance your classes!”

I paused, letting the words settle. “Harold, come here and explain to them how to improve their class,” I said as I stepped down from the rocks.

I could have done so, but I wanted to keep my speech short and impactful, while leaving the practical details to Harold.

As Harold started explaining it, I used the nearby gate to the fourth floor. After cutting down the monsters that had surrounded the gate, I rapidly grew ten lines of trees with ease.

I returned to the third floor with a cart filled with iron barrels, each filled with swamp water. I didn’t set a condenser, as the first stage of the process required diluted water from the fourth floor. Only when their skill reached Rare, would they require the help of the condenser.

When I returned, I gestured at two guards to take over the pulling of the cart, and two others rushed to dilute the water based on the previous requests. It was good to have competent assistance dealing with the minutiae of the activities.

With them accompanying me, we walked toward the center of the formation. Harold had not only finished his explanation, but also gathered the twenty volunteers that were closest to reaching level twenty-five.

“Let me show you how to improve your Nurture skill quickly,” I said even as I placed a small sapling on the ground, putting one drop of diluted swamp water underneath, following it with a blast. “As simple as this,” I said. “Try it,” I said even as I pointed at the next one.

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“Yes, sir,” the first one said, and replicated my trick … poorly, pushing with his Health long after the little drop of water had been drained, which only wasted his Health.

“With shorter bursts,” I reminded him. “Did you deplete your Health?”

“I’m sorry sir. It won’t happen again,” he said, panicked. “I just wanted to show —”

I waved my hand, cutting his words. “Look, just eat something, and go back to the end of the line. Mistakes happen,” I consoled him. “There’s no harm. It’ll take a while to get it. Just remember to keep the skill usage to short, intense bursts. That’s how you’ll get the best result.”

“I won’t disappoint you, sir,” he said as he moved back, looking enthusiastic.

“What’s his name,” I whispered to Harold.

“Terry. He’s a good kid. Smart and ambitious, but with a good head. He’s a bit too enthusiastic though.”

“It’s a good combination for the youth,” I whispered, then gestured for the next one to walk closer. Even as they rotated, I continued to explain to them how to best use their Health to maximize the skill point gain, which was clearly not something they had prioritized before.

It was not a surprise. Production class skills improved rapidly as long as the appropriate materials existed. All the tricks I had applied just made the process faster.

Merely ten minutes later, every single one of the first twenty had their Uncommon skills, celebrating while the rest watched in fascination. “Should we start working on leveling, sir,” Terry asked, who seemed to be a natural leader in the group.

“Really, is that the extent of your ambition? Only Uncommon skills? How about Rare? Epic?”

“W-we can?” he gasped.

“Of course,” I said. “But, not for free.” His expression steeled, expecting me to ask for something truly extreme. ‘Help me organize the rest, and teach them,” I said.

“That’s it?” he said, looking shocked.

“Yes, that’s it,” I said, amused by his shock before he bounced to his mission with great enthusiasm. “Don’t forget to make everyone fill out their surveys before and after,” I said.

I couldn’t help but feel amused. I had tried to collect information about the System before, but even when I bribed my subjects with most of my available fortune at that time, their reluctance had been clear. A great contrast to the current situation.

I didn’t remember anyone following my teachings with such enthusiasm even before the Cataclysm, when I was a professor, despite my globally renowned credentials.

And, now, a couple layers of obfuscation and a display that I could have easily faked worked wonders.

Entertaining indeed.

But soon, I noticed some kind of argument toward the edge of the crowd. I walked toward it. “You must have been doing it wrong. Do it again!” one of the trainers growled, while another one infused the sapling with his Health, his fingers trembling.

I approached slowly, trying to understand what’s going on.

“Again,” the trainer ordered, looking tense, but not as much as the student, whose fingers were trembling even worse.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

“S-sir, nothing,” the student gasped. “Please don’t send me away.”

“I’m not going to send anyone away,” I promised. “Now, tell me.”

“I … I don’t know. No matter what I do, my skill is stuck at ninety-nine, and it’s not improving.”

“Interesting,” I said. “Is there anyone that’s stuck at ninety-nine, unable to improve,” I asked, my voice booming. A sudden silence filled the area. “Don’t worry, I won’t kick any of you out. I swear on my honor!”

I had no problem giving that promise. Why would I, when they represented not a burden but an opportunity. Something unknown, one that I could use as leverage to expand my understanding even if just by a bit.

Even with all the credibility I had built, it took a while for them to start believing me, and I had to add a warning about punishment if they hid information. Ultimately, the crowd had split, and I noticed only two hundred out of two thousand had been unable to upgrade their skills naturally.

“W-what are we going to do, sir?” one of them asked.

“A torture awaits you —” I said, a habitual joke about paperwork leaving my lips before I realized the abject terror on their faces. “A joke about doing a lot of paperwork,” I corrected rapidly, realizing that jokes that were appropriate in an office environment might not be becoming of a guild master.

I threw a Rare Nurture skill stone to the leading tone that spoke. “See if you can absorb it,” I said.

“I can, sir,” he said.

“Do it,” I said, and he did so, which had been enough to dissipate the fear of the situation. “Now, as you can see, eventually, every single one of you will receive a Rare Nurture, no matter what, so you don’t need to feel stressed. But, before that, I want every single one of you to fill in even more paperwork,” I said.

Then, I turned toward the others, who had progressed their skills successfully. “Every single one of you!” I repeated.

After all, I needed data from both sides to identify the variable causing the difference.