The dungeoneers returned to the city, while I stayed behind, working with the elements. My first step was to check my power orbs. The body orb had grown to match the size of the others, but the energy inside remained wispy, lacking the dense, vapor-like quality they had. It was clear the 1,300 mana increase came from the body orb, but I had no idea how to make the mana denser.

All the small channels in my body were now connected. The mist channels, which had been "flapping in the wind," were now tied to water. The ice channels from the affinity stone I’d gained from the wolves, once isolated like a lone island, were now linked to both water and fire. It took me a few minutes to figure out why fire, but eventually, it made sense. Nature was the most surprising—it connected to the body orb when I got it. Now, it was connected to all four.

After checking out my mana system, I went to train. I played around with Water for a bit, but this element was so effortless — even more than Wind — that it only took a short time to master everything I could think of at the moment. I surfed the waves, shot water streams from the lake, pulled moisture from plants, and toyed with a water ball on a flowing stream like a yo-yo.

Fire was trickier, mostly when it came to starting it. I could aspect my mana to fire and use it like I did with the grill, but I had to be close to whatever I wanted to ignite, which was a bit of a problem. Things improved once I got the idea to use the Blazing Orb spell for the initial spark. Still, there was a push and pull between me and the flame. If I pushed too hard, the fire reacted like a moody teenager, and once that happened, it became stubborn and harder to control.

I spent three days figuring out the right balance between guiding the fire and letting it run free. It finally clicked when I understood that unpredictability and lack of control were core characteristics of the element. Fire was never meant to be fully controlled — it couldn't be. Trying to force it into complete obedience would only make it work against its very nature.

It took me another two days to develop a working system. Whenever the fire looked like it might get out of control, I guided it to extinguish. That part still needed work—fire didn’t take kindly to being snuffed out, not even when it was its own decision. That gave me pause. I couldn’t shake the fear of losing control over it.

Fire was challenging in another way. I’d already learned I could communicate with Wind using words and sometimes a tiny push of mana—much easier and more direct than the sequences of emotions and impressions I’d used before. That ease came from the stronger bond between us. With Water, it was even more straightforward. There was no need for communication at all; I just directed it. Fire, though, required nudging and coaxing through impressions and feelings. And when it acted like a stubborn mule, I had to give it an extra push with mana to get it to cooperate.

The far side of the lake, opposite the city, looked thoroughly blackened from my practice sessions. I wandered over to check out the damage, collecting some charred wood from the trees that hadn’t burned all the way through for the grill. While I was at it, I found what used to be a big nest of green flying snakes. Now they were crispy, blackened snakes. Rue would’ve loved them—if they were edible. Unfortunately for him, they weren’t.

In the evening, when the gang got back, Mahya stomped over, and dumped a massive pile of twisted, rusted metal right in front of me with a loud clang.

“Can you do something with this?” she asked.

I blinked at the heap. Twisted gears, segmented limbs, and coiled wires poked out between metal plates, their edges scorched and dented. Joints and sockets, some with shattered glass coverings, jutted out at odd angles, as if the pile had once been something that moved — but had been torn apart and reduced to scraps.

“Me?” I pointed at my chest. “You’re the one with the forges and all that stuff.”

Mahya rolled her eyes, planting her hands on her hips. “Yeah, but it’ll take ages. Al and Rue are hauling more of this crap back, and if I have to process it all by hand, I’m going to lose my mind.”

I nudged a mangled piece of metal with my foot. “Still not seeing how this is my problem.”

She raised an eyebrow, giving me you’re smarter than this look. “You’re practicing the elements, aren’t you? Metal’s a sub-element of Earth.”

I rubbed the back of my neck, glancing between her and the heap of scrap. “I... guess? But—”

“Can’t you figure it out?” she cut in.

I crouched down and picked up a twisted rod, its surface dented and blackened. Cold and heavier than it looked, it gave off a faint smell of rust and oil, with bits of frayed wiring peeking from one end. I turned it over in my hands, hoping for some spark of inspiration. Nothing.

“I’m not there yet,” I admitted with a shrug, tossing the rod back onto the pile with a metallic clink.

Mahya sighed, crossing her arms. “Well, you’ve got to start somewhere. Earth won’t teach itself.”

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“Yeah, yeah,” I muttered, scratching my head as I stared at the mess in front of me, still completely clueless.

Al and Rue dropped another pile in front of me with a heavy thud. Al shot me an apologetic look, tapping his fingers against his leg like he wasn’t quite sure what to say. Rue tilted his head, ears twitching, and asked, “What John make for dinner?”

“I didn’t cook yet,” I told Rue, then glanced at the growing pile. “Where did you get all this stuff?”

“From a dungeon, where else,” Mahya replied, brushing soot off her sleeves. “We fought those buggers for half a day.”

“Injuries?” I asked, scanning them for any signs of trouble.

“We’re good,” Mahya said with a shrug. “They were slow. The only problem was their toughness.”

I glanced back at the pile, scratching my head. “Either store it until I figure out this metal thing, or you’ll have to melt it down yourself.”

Mahya let out a sigh, her shoulders slumping. “Bummer.”

“How many dungeons have you cleared so far?” I asked, crossing my arms as I glanced between them.

“Fourteen,” Al said, tapping his fingers rhythmically against his leg.

“Trouble?”

Mahya shook her head. “No. Their level’s about the same as the previous city, maybe even lower. There were some disgusting bugs that splattered all over the place, but nothing major.”

“Rue love Clean spell!” Rue said, his tail whipping back and forth with enough force to stir up leaves and dust in a mini hurricane. “Bugs go splat green yuk!”

“Didn’t you use your bug spray?” I asked Al.

“I did. They exploded when they died.”

“Mana shield?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Helped,” Al said with a nod. “But the explosions weakened it, and the splatter was... extensive. Very unpleasant experience.” He shot Mahya a pointed side-eye.

I glanced between them, curious. “What’s with the look?”

“Mahya have no Mana shield. Mahya stay back. Mahya not get green yuk,” Rue said.

Mahya’s eyes widened in mock surprise, her face lighting up with a disarmingly sweet expression. “I was providing tactical support!” she declared, sounding almost convincing.

Then, without missing a beat, she spun on her heel and casually strolled away — whistling a cheery tune, hands in her pockets.

I shook my head, a smile tugging at my lips.

The following two days were spent battling Earth. It wasn’t like with Fire or Water — the connection was there, steady and grounded, but that wasn’t the problem. The problem was Earth didn’t want to move. It was stubborn, like trying to push a mountain with a toothpick. Every nudge felt like shoving against an immovable wall, and even when I poured more mana into it, the results were painfully slow.

By the end of two days, my grand achievement was a killer headache that even Healing Touch couldn’t fix, and a rise of less than two centimeters in the rockbed. Two. Centimeters. I stared at it with growing frustration, wondering if I’d just spent two days bullying a rock into budging slightly out of pure spite.

In the morning, the gang didn’t head to the city. Instead, Mahya set up three portable forges near the lake, the metallic clang of tools ringing out as she arranged the equipment. Soon, smoke curled into the sky, and the scent of burning metal filled the air.

I wandered over, squinting at the shimmering heat waves rising from the forges. “Why not in your workshop?”

Mahya wiped sweat from her brow with the back of her hand, her face already flushed from the heat. “Too hot,” she said with a shrug. “At least out here, I won’t bake alive.”

Fair enough.

I needed a break too. After two exhausting days of wrestling with stubborn rock, fishing sounded like a better plan. I walked out onto the lake and sat cross-legged on the water’s surface. Instead of casting a line, I used my new fishing method—small ripples formed around me as I nudged the water, guiding fish toward my hands. The cool breeze brushed against my face, and the water beneath me shimmered, offering a peaceful contrast to the heat and noise coming from Mahya’s forges on the shore.

Al came cruising over on the E-foil, gliding across the water. He slowed as he neared me, the board cutting through the water with barely a ripple.

“You still have the small boats?” he asked, shifting his weight to balance.

I nodded. “Yeah. Want one?”

“Yes, please. And a fishing rod.”

Minutes later, we were both out on the lake. Al sat in a small boat, fishing rod in hand, while I remained cross-legged on the water, the gentle ripples shifting under me with each movement.

Rue, meanwhile, was hard at work practicing his water affinity. He walked a few shaky steps across the lake’s surface, tail wagging in concentration. Then — splash! — he plunged into the water, resurfacing a moment later with a loud, exaggerated sputter.

“Why water so slippery?” he complained, shaking himself off in all directions like a soggy rug.

I stifled a laugh as he clambered back onto the lake, determined to try again. “You’re getting there, Rue! Keep at it.”

After a while, I glanced over at Al, who was focused on his fishing line, the tip twitching ever so slightly. “I thought you’d be holed up in your lab with all the herbs and scrolls we got from the cultivators.”

He sighed and reeled in his line a bit. “I need a break. The last two weeks were too hectic.”

I raised an eyebrow. “You know you don’t have to go clear dungeons with Mahya and Rue, right? Mahya wants cores, and Rue wants levels. They can handle it. They’ve got potions.”

Al flicked his line lazily into the water again, the lure making a soft plop. “I know. I want levels too, so it is fine. Besides,” he added with a smile, “it is very difficult to argue with Mahya.”

I snorted. “Yeah, but you usually ignore her when you don’t like or agree with something.”

He chuckled softly. “True. But I also know how to pick my battles. And I do want levels. I just needed a day or two to relax and unwind. It is hard to stay sharp all the time. Dungeons demand focus, and sometimes that wears me out.”

I nodded, watching as Rue successfully made it a few more steps across the water before slipping again. “Fair enough. Just don’t let Mahya bully you into something you don’t want to do.”

Al shot me a pointed look. It was the kind of look that said, Really? You’re giving me that advice?

I couldn’t help but laugh. “I know it looks like she’s bullying me sometimes, but not always. I’m mostly fine with her plans. And if it’s something I feel strongly about, I know how to speak up.”

He studied me for a long moment, his face thoughtful. Then he nodded slowly. “You two are much closer.”

“Yeah,” I admitted, glancing toward Mahya, who was wiping soot off her hands and adjusting the flames in one of the forges. “That too.”

We fished the rest of the time in silence.