The Gate Traveler-Chapter 34B7 - : The Art of Fusing Earth and Mana

I did another pass through the books from Earth, this time managing thirteen before my mind screamed at me to take a break. The books weren’t hard to read, not like the wizard books, but Spirits, they were boring. The content was interesting, at least some of it, but it was written in such a dry tone and academic language that reading it was an unending slog. A few times, I caught myself half asleep, right before my head fell on the book in oblivion. With a sigh, I continued reading. Need must and all that jazz.

Mahya and Rue went to investigate the city and came back with interesting news.

“This used to be a dwarf city,” Mahya said during lunch.

“Like in fantasy books?” I asked.

She nodded. “Uh-huh.”

“They’re real?” I exclaimed, my fork clattering onto the plate.

“Yes… didn’t you know?” she asked, one eyebrow lifting.

“How should I? And how do you know?”

“Go investigate the houses and you’ll see.” She smirked, clearly enjoying keeping the answer to herself.

I saw it right away in the first house I stepped into. All the furniture was made of stone, if it could even be called furniture. The bed, the table, and the chairs weren’t separate pieces at all but carved directly from the same stone as the walls, as if the builders had shaped the whole room from a single block. It felt more like stepping into a sculpture than a home.

The biggest clue, though, was the size. The chairs were so low they would have suited kids, and the beds barely stretched a meter in length. I crouched beside one, my knees almost brushing the edge, and couldn’t help grinning. Mahya was right. Whoever lived here was short and very fond of rock.

Now I was impatient for the weather to improve. I mean, dwarfs!

We checked outside despite the obstacle course in the access tunnel that we had to climb over, but the weather still refused to cooperate. The snow had stopped falling, yet the drifts showed no hurry to melt, and the bottom layer had frozen into slick, treacherous ice. The white fluff coating the trees looked beautiful and even reminded me of Christmas, but the conditions were awful.

Sure, we could use the balloon or even fly without it as long as Mahya’s mana held out, but it was cold. Very cold. Even with my heightened stats, I needed a coat, scarf, hat, and gloves to keep from freezing my butt off. My great cloak from Tatob solved the problem for me, but since only I had one, it didn’t help the others much. And, of course, Rue wouldn’t even hear of going out into the snow. He hated it with the passion of a thousand suns.

I returned to my training, but this time mixed learning with something useful. The access tunnel still had three large piles of fallen stones blocking the way, along with scattered chunks that had broken loose from the walls and ceiling. I turned the whole mess into a reconstruction project.

Using the same method as before, I channeled mana through my feet, letting it seep into the ground and spread toward the stones I wanted to move. The first one I targeted was near the bottom of the pile, and the moment it shifted, half the stack gave way with a low rumble. Dust rose around me in a choking cloud, and a few smaller rocks rolled past my boots before settling with a heavy thud. Lesson learned.

On the second try, I focused my mana differently, sending it climbing up the pile instead of pulling from below. It was harder to control at an angle, but I managed to reach the top stone, slide it carefully, and guide it down the slope. The stone slid across the tunnel floor, scraping softly, then rose along the opposite wall to the spot I had chosen. When it settled into place, I pressed my hand to the wall and cast Fuse Stone, watching the faint shimmer of mana seal it in.

The satisfaction of seeing one stone fit perfectly where it belonged was better than I expected. Slow work, sure, but each success felt like the tunnel was slowly waking up again, piece by piece.

While casting the spell, I closed my eyes and pushed my mana sense to the limit, trying to feel every subtle shift. At first, the sensations were faint, almost distant, but with each new stone they became sharper, more distinct. The spell, I realized, didn’t actually fuse the stone itself. Instead, it caused the mana within the stone and the wall to stretch outward, intertwining and merging with the mana in the adjoining pieces. That explained why, even after casting, the line between the stones remained visible. The stones themselves didn’t fuse. Their mana did.

It made me curious how the mages in the Tatob capital managed to make marble pieces blend so perfectly that not a single seam was visible. Based on that logic, they must have fused the marble itself, not just the mana within it. I tried to recreate the effect by softening the stone until it became pliable enough to merge, but every attempt failed. Still, the training was going well.

Once I understood what the spell actually did, I began experimenting with replicating the same effect using free mana and my earth affinity. It took far more mana and demanded intense concentration, since I had to guide the flow not only within the stone I was moving but also through the surrounding wall to make everything fuse. The complicated process drained three times as much mana as the spell, but it was worth it. It felt incredible. I wasn’t just casting some prepackaged spell from a scroll anymore—I was shaping the magic myself, freehand, and it worked.

Go me!

On the first day, I could move only one stone at a time and ran out of mana after a few hours. The next day, I applied what I had learned from the sand wizard. Instead of letting the mana dissipate after moving a stone and fusing it, I redirected it into the next one. It was far more difficult than working with sand, where the grains stayed connected to a larger body. Here, I had to pull the mana back through solid ground and guide it into the next stone. It took about an hour of trial and error, but once I figured out the flow, the process became smoother and faster.

By the third day, I began increasing the number of stones I moved at once. By dinner, I was controlling three simultaneously. Watching them slide down the pile, glide across the floor, climb the wall, and stack neatly in place was surprisingly satisfying. I knew it was my doing, yet since I never physically touched them, I could almost fool myself into believing the stones were alive, moving of their own will. At one point, just for fun, I lifted my hand and moved my fingers like an orchestra conductor, directing the stones into place. It was ridiculous and entertaining, and maybe a hint of my Bard side was showing.

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Al returned from exploring and paused at the tunnel entrance, watching me as I guided the last few stones into place. Dust drifted around as the last one settled neatly into the wall. After a quiet moment, he walked closer and rested a hand on my shoulder.

“I see your magic training is progressing well. It is most impressive.”

I grinned, wiping a bit of grit from my face. “Thanks. It’s a lot of fun too.”

He waved at the back of the tunnel. “I explored outside and discovered a frozen lake not far from our location. Are you interested in a game of hockey?”

I straightened, already smiling wider. “You did? Great! Tomorrow we’ll go play. I’m sure even Rue would stick his nose outside for hockey.”

Al’s mouth curved into a faint, amused smile. “We shall see. I doubt even hockey can tempt him away from the fire.”

“Bet you a mithril coin it will,” I said with a chuckle.

The next morning, on our way out of the tunnel, Mahya stopped a short distance after the pile I had rebuilt into the wall and ceiling. She tilted her head, taking in the clean lines and smooth stone, then walked back about twenty meters to inspect the section behind us. After a moment, she moved forward again, eyes scanning the walls, then the ceiling, then me. Finally, she turned in a slow circle, frowning in disbelief at the repair.

Al and I exchanged a glance and shared a quiet smile, both of us knowing exactly what she was thinking but saying nothing.

“How?” she finally asked, squinting at me.

“Earth magic training,” I said, trying not to sound too smug. I was pretty sure I failed.

She looked around once more, running her hand over the smooth wall before meeting my eyes. “Impressive. Very impressive.”

I gave a dramatic bow. “Thank you, my kind lady.”

She snorted. “You’re still a dork.”

I straightened with a grin. “Guilty as charged.”

Rue barked once behind us, tail wagging as he agreed wholeheartedly. I flicked his forehead in revenge.

After a short flight through the crisp, biting air, the lake came into view below us. The snow around it glittered under the pale sunlight, and the surface gleamed smooth and white-blue, like a polished mirror. Mahya landed first, her boots skidding slightly before she regained balance. Rue followed, shaking himself violently as if to fling off the cold itself.

“Cold bad. But Rue play hockey!” he declared, tail wagging in determination.

I laughed, setting the puck on the ice. “That’s the spirit.”

I helped Rue put on the skates and put mine on as well.

Al, ever the gentleman, adjusted his gloves and nodded toward the middle of the lake. “Shall we begin?”

“Teams?” I asked.

“Same as before,” Mahya said with a grin. “You and Rue against the civilized world.”

Rue barked once, taking that as a challenge.

The first few minutes were pure chaos. Rue’s telekinetic stick darted around like it had a mind of its own, knocking the puck every which way. Mahya, of course, cheated first, jumping a few meters into the air to snatch the puck mid-flight, spinning like an acrobat before landing and sending it toward Al.

“Hey, no fair!” I shouted, skidding sideways to intercept.

“Fairness is overrated!” she yelled back, laughter echoing across the ice.

I answered in kind, making the wind push me enough to boost my speed. The ice blurred beneath my feet as I swooped past her, scooping the puck and passing it to Rue. He chased it gleefully, sliding sideways with his legs flailing, somehow managing to keep upright.

“Rue score!” he shouted, sending the puck flying toward the makeshift goal.

It would’ve gone in, too, if Al hadn’t casually lifted his hand and stopped it midair with Telekinesis. “I am afraid not.”

“Cheater!” I yelled, skating backward to block his next pass.

“Strategist,” Al corrected smoothly, sending the puck curving around me in a graceful arc.

Mahya whooped as it reached her, twirling her stick before knocking it straight toward our goal. Rue leapt, missed entirely, and slid face-first across the ice into the snow drift on the bank, legs kicking. His muffled, “Rue fine!” had us all doubled over laughing.

I lifted him back up and told him telepathically, “Alright, buddy. Time to cheat harder.”

We took off together, both slightly above the ice, the wind biting but exhilarating. Rue used Telekinesis again, and I used a gust of wind to send the puck streaking like a comet toward the goal.

Al tried to block it, but Mahya slipped in front of him at the last second, shouting, “Mine!” and accidentally deflected it into their own goal.

For a heartbeat, there was silence. Then Rue barked so loudly it startled a few birds from the trees. “Rue score! Mahya help! Mahya is the bestest player!”

I laughed so hard I nearly fell over, clutching my sides as tears formed in my eyes. Mahya froze for a moment, glaring like she was about to murder us both, then broke into laughter so loud it echoed across the ice. Rue celebrated by doing two full victory laps around the lake, barking at the top of his lungs, tail spinning like a propeller. Even Al had to brace himself, trying to look composed with a helpless smile. He gave a slow shake of his head. “I suppose that counts.”

We kept at it for hours, laughing, shouting, and breaking every rule imaginable. Mahya skated up the walls of snow like a maniac, jumped to do somersaults and land on the way of our puck, and basically made an acrobatic musance of herself. Al moved the puck without touching it, cast freezing spells mid-slide to slow it down, and at one point tried to push it forward with an ice spike that nearly took Mahya’s leg off. Rue skated upside down in the air just to prove he could, tail wagging the entire time, and I used small bursts of wind to spin and dodge faster than they could stop me, or flew when the need arose. Once, I even managed to shift the ice itself, raising a small bulge under the puck. It jumped just high enough for Rue to snatch it with his stick and score another goal.

The air was filled with laughter, the scrape of skates, the ring of sticks, and Rue’s delighted yips echoing across the frozen lake.

When the sun began to dip low, the lake glowed gold beneath our feet. We collapsed in a heap on the ice, breath steaming in the cold air. Rue sprawled across my lap, tail twitching lazily.

“Good game,” I said between breaths.

Al chuckled softly. “A fair amount of cheating, but an excellent match nonetheless.”

Mahya stretched her arms with a groan. “Worth every bruise.”

Rue’s voice came sleepy and proud. “Rue bestest player.”

I smiled and scratched behind his ear. “Can’t argue with that.”

For another week and a half, I worked on repairing the access tunnel, alternating between clearing rubble, reading more about the earth element, and playing hockey every other day. By the time I reached the final pile of debris, I could move six stones at once—each guided by a separate split of my mind. I tried pushing for a seventh, but nothing happened. Not even a flicker. It wasn’t that I failed; it was like the thought itself refused to form.

With a long sigh, I admitted temporary defeat. Apparently, two days of juggling six simultaneous tasks weren’t enough to prepare my mind for a seventh. I’d just have to give it time.

Once there was no rubble left, I used the same technique, channeling mana through the ground and into the dust and scattered stone particles to “sweep” the tunnel clean. The fine dust shifted under the flow of my mana, sliding along the floor in a steady stream toward the exit. Bit by bit, it gathered speed, pushing the dirt and grit outside until the tunnel lay spotless behind me, clean enough to see the natural patterns in the stone.

All in all, I felt I’d made solid progress with my earth affinity, even if my Personal Information still stubbornly showed Earth [Novice]. Titles could wait; the results spoke for themselves.