Chapter 132: The Elf Elder’s “Treasure Trove of Experience”

In truth, Born had long ago realized this problem: whether among elves or humans, the pinnacle of combat power and technology was always held by a small elite at the very top of the hierarchy. Despite possessing the miraculous alchemy platform, they still had to purchase weapons from the dwarves. Yet, whether dwarves or humans, their forging methods remained primitively reliant on traditional furnaces.

It was utterly maddening.

Born was somewhat speechless. Wasn’t an alchemically synthesized alloy sword far superior? Even a mid-level spellcaster, after some practice, could craft a fine iron sword using the alchemy platform. Yet, such excellent tools were relegated merely to auxiliary experiments.

Count Iorum was a prime example: either not doing something at all or doing it to perfection, relentlessly pursuing excellence. This was not unique to humans; the elves were even more extreme. Their highest echelons could traverse dimensions, casually wielding single-target nuclear-level spells, even dismantling entire continents. Meanwhile, the weaker tribes often lacked even a single spellcaster and faced invasions from other humanoid races.

Because transportation was unnecessary, they simply installed a few gas tanks and fermentation pools, transforming the mixture into liquid form. Like making bubble tea, they mixed components in precise ratios—adding a bit here, squeezing a bit there—to create the “Golden Fertilizer” potion. This was then poured into water towers, mixing with water to irrigate the magical plants. If certain plants consumed more fertilizer, extra amounts were poured specifically for them.

The elderly elf finally discerned the truth: rather than “purifying” the soil, the “Golden Fertilizer” essentially replaced the soil itself, becoming the “food” for the magical plants.

“Which master discovered this?” The old elf was profoundly shaken.

As a druid, he had always believed that animals and plants shared a dependent relationship. Though plants occupied the lowest tier of the food chain, they formed the foundation of all life, thriving on the blessings of nature. Yet reality told him otherwise: plants also needed to “eat.” But unlike flesh-and-blood creatures, their sustenance was different. Plants did not grow solely by the power of nature; they were independent beings with their own habits and languages, akin to normal living creatures.

“All beings compete freely beneath the frosty heavens!”

Years of ingrained beliefs were not easily overturned, especially for an old man. Yet when faced with undeniable evidence, his worldview was violently shaken. Most crucially, this was his own discovery—there was no denying it.

The elf found himself caught in profound conflict. Plants were not mere manifestations of nature; they competed, had tribes, excluded outsiders, claimed territories, and fought for survival. With this understanding, many longstanding doubts suddenly resolved.

Inside him, the power of nature roared wildly, long-stagnant strength erupted like a dormant volcano finally unleashing its fury. Born, standing closest, immediately sensed the overwhelming surge of life force emanating from the elf.

Soon, everyone noticed the anomaly—the old elf entered a state akin to enlightenment. The vast reservoir of nature’s power he usually kept hidden within burst forth explosively. Years of accumulation culminated in a sudden surge, and the nature force spread like a tsunami from his very being.

Born’s expression was priceless—others, far weaker, were overwhelmed and flung aside by the torrent of natural energy before they could even react.

Only then did they grasp just how terrifying the old elf truly was.

The floor beneath the alchemy workshop began sprouting plants, trembling and undulating beneath him. “Damn, this is bad!” Born cursed inwardly. The floor was inscribed with a magical convergence array. This sudden eruption of natural power far exceeded the potency of the “Golden Fertilizer.” If this were a desert, it could conjure an oasis out of thin air. At this rate, the array would undoubtedly be destroyed by the encroaching plants.

Fortunately, Born had designed the entire magical convergence array himself and quickly devised a solution.

The biological chip in his system worked rapidly, immediately calculating an auxiliary spell. He hastily fashioned a simple containment shield around the elf, channeling all the overflowing natural power into a “mana storage device.” Any other leaked energy would be absorbed back into the device by the larger magical array.

With this double safeguard, what could have been a catastrophic disaster transformed instantly into a “super experience gift pack.”

To maintain the “spatial expansion spell,” the mana storage device was usually “running on empty,” outputting power at barely sustainable levels. As Born put it, it barely broke even, sometimes requiring manual supplementation.

But now, with the elf acting as a living “generator,” the storage capacity soared rapidly.

Judging by the elf’s state, he would not recover anytime soon. Born decided to gather his team and make the most of this opportunity.

The mana storage device, brimming with the elf’s natural energy, was activated by Born. The stored power instantly flowed into the various magical plant cultivation zones.

The plants ballooned in size almost like inflating balloons.

Habervik and two demigod descendants unleashed their full power, using alchemical synthesis to decompose the “Golden Fertilizer” into its elemental components. When raw materials ran short, they pulled ores from the warehouse for extraction—wasteful, but necessary. At this point, precise proportions no longer mattered.

Every member of the Layman Trading Company carried a bucket of “Golden Fertilizer.” Whenever the soil changed color, they’d add a scoop. If quality was lacking, quantity compensated. Inferior fertilizer was supplied almost without restriction.

Fortunately, when Born initially selected magical plants, he chose varieties easy to cultivate and hardy—mostly common materials for low-level spell potions.

As the plants rapidly grew, the workers harvested them like mowing grass. Once the plants reached a certain height—ten centimeters above ground—they were cut down. Thanks to the elf’s natural power, even minimal root systems could regrow swiftly.

In less than an hour, they had harvested two or three crops; smaller plants were cut six or seven times.

As the elf’s surrounding mana began to recede, Born realized he was awakening.

But after that surge, the harvested plants nearly filled the warehouse. It would suffice for now.

The now-conscious elf saw himself enclosed under a magical dome. His face darkened instantly.

He was no novice—he understood precisely what such a strange state meant. Seeing the runes on the dome and the “Golden Fertilizer” in everyone’s hands, he immediately comprehended the situation.

Born’s actions were justified; he deserved praise. Had Born not acted, the entire alchemy workshop would likely have become a dense forest by now.

Yet, understanding did not equate to happiness. No one liked being treated as a living “charger.”

Born hurried over to apologize, but the elf snorted coldly and turned away.

Once the elf had left, Born breathed a silent sigh of relief. The grunt implied all was well.

Glancing at the nearly bursting storage room, a faint smile curled Born’s lips. Years of meticulous planning were about to bear fruit.

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