I Woke Up as a Sapling (3)

What's the actual difference between liquid and solid mana?

I laid a drop of dew and a mana bead side by side on a flat stone dish, and the answer became obvious. The dew, which the Water Droplet Spirit had been poking at curiously, got absorbed the instant she touched it — while the bead simply rolled off and tumbled into the grass.

Retrieval worked a little differently too. Liquid mana soaked neatly into my roots through the damp soil, but a mana bead had to be converted back into liquid form before I could absorb it.

My low mana level made the retrieval awkward, sure, but the difference was clearly significant. The solid form was far more composed and independent.

The mana bead stayed put even when we forgot it existed. In fact, the Water Droplet Spirit could hurl it skyward or fiddle with it freely, and it remained perfectly unharmed.

Then a good idea came to me.

All this time, liquid mana had captured ambient mana thanks to the cohesive properties unique to liquids. But that very cohesiveness made it hard to shape into complex forms. Solid mana didn't have that problem — so why limit myself to beads?

I set a bead on a leaf and concentrated. The bead warped and began taking on the shape in my mind.

It was crude work, but it seemed doable. The bead shifted its form. A helmet took shape, with two little horns popping out on either side. Small and clumsy as it was, it was unmistakably a horned helmet.

Yoo-hoo, horned helmet complete.

Now I went looking for the Water Droplet Spirit.

"Come here. I have something for you."

The droplet flew over and settled on the leaf. I carefully placed the helmet on her, and the perfectly-sized horned helmet came to rest atop the water droplet.

Yoo-hoo, water droplet in a horned helmet, complete.

The droplet seemed unfamiliar with her new look for a moment. She turned her reflection this way and that in the dew beside her, then bounced and trembled with bubbly giggles.

Then the helmeted droplet shot straight up into the air. I thought she was heading out for a jaunt, but no — she spotted a boulder some distance away and plunged straight down at it.

Horned helmet met boulder. A thunderous boom rang out. The ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠boulder shattered, fragments scattering in every direction. Grass blades swayed amid the cloud of dust.

The helmeted droplet bounced merrily atop the stone corpse. I could almost hear her delighted squealing laughter.

Whoa. Whoa ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠there.

That wasn't quite the gift I meant to give, but... you won, so that's cool, I guess.

Since I'd already made her a helmet, I tried crafting something else. The mana twisted its shape until it ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠became a pointed sword. Small enough to resemble a toothpick, but a proper sword all the same.

"Try holding this one too."

She seemed unsure what it was for, so I gave her a brief explanation.

The droplet wielded the sword awkwardly. The toothpick sword wobbled, and the dew beside her got neatly sliced clean through.

Whoa, a warrior droplet. Impressive.

That said, the droplet clearly found the long sword unwieldy. She fake-slashed at the dew a few times, and then, while I was busy observing a mana stone, she quietly dumped the thing under a rock — covering it carefully with a leaf as well. A crime in every sense.

I didn't discover the sword had been abandoned until a full day later.

Yoo-hoo...

I guess it didn't pass the droplet's aesthetic standards.

My soul had grown.

An endless expanse of trees unfurled all the way to the far edge of the forest.

What a vast forest this truly is. The sea of green is dazzling.

Between the dense thickets, faint little paths caught my attention — nature's own trails, pressed down by the repeated footprints of animals until only sparse blades of grass remained.

Was it along one of those paths that the rabbit came to visit me? Probably so.

Looking even farther, I spotted a single abandoned wooden arrow at the very edge of my vision. Whole and unbroken, as if it had been fired and then simply lost.

So somewhere beyond that point lies the birth and life of that wooden arrow. Neat.

After gazing for a while, I turned my focus back to my roots.

Sunlight departed, starlight descended, and then dusk broke — a good while passed in that rhythm.

My steady excavation ran headlong into a stubborn obstacle.

As my roots stretched out, I sensed moisture in the soil — a humidity so dense it was bewildering to feel from deep underground. Probing carefully, I came face to face with sodden clay, and beyond that clay, I felt the presence of a massive body of liquid.

Groundwater?

Widening my narrowed field of view — I'd focused too hard on my roots — I took in the groundwater at a glance, dense with packed sand and gravel mixed through it. It ran horizontally, blocking my intended path for a long stretch.

It really was groundwater.

Groundwater is a good neighbor, like a friendly boulder. When my roots dry ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠out and the sun's blessings become a burden, pressing my roots near groundwater would let me drink my fill with joy.

But there was a problem.

I had never known water scarcity. There was a time I worried whether my waterlogged roots might rot when the rainy season dragged on and everything soaked through — but never once have I thirsted.

If my roots pierced straight through the groundwater, they'd rot away before long. And it stretched too far across my territory to go around.

What to do? Maybe it's time for a little civil engineering project.

I called for the Water Droplet Spirit.

The droplet set her horned helmet down on the stone dish and hopped to the ground. With a plop she soaked into the earth and came down deep to where I was.

Before long she reached the groundwater, clung to my root, and began nudging at it curiously.

"Could you hold the groundwater back for a while? Like carving out a dry vertical shaft. I'm worried something unexpected might happen while I'm working."

The droplet may be small, but looks were deceiving — she was a full 10,000 MP compressed into one being. If she channeled her mana, she ought to be able to hold it back.

Contrary to my expectations, though, she didn't use mana at all. The surface of the droplet rippled — and the groundwater simply withdrew on its own, revealing dry sand and gravel beneath.

Huh? She can just... control water? That's a thing she can do?

Of course. She's a spirit, so of course she can.

I knew that, and yet I'd never quite registered it.

A genuine water droplet spirit. Impressive.

"Can you control earth by any chance?"

The droplet wriggled her body side to side in a shake.

So earth is beyond her since she's a water spirit. A shame — though I'd planned on doing it myself anyway.

First, I stretched a root straight down. The dried sand and gravel were carved through roughly, and when I reached the bottom, I hit bedrock. It was broader and larger than the boulder, but I wasn't afraid. That's a tunnel for later.

I coiled liquid mana around the settled root and hardened it into solid mana. Focusing my mana senses, I expanded the solid mana little by little, gradually pushing the sand and gravel outward until a working space opened up.

And then...

I extended solid mana from the mana pipe. Countless mana hooks laced and tangled through the surrounding sand and gravel, anchoring the pipe in place.

Yoo-hoo. I think that'll do it.

Worst case, I could remove part of the pipe and extend a root down to drink from the groundwater directly.

"You can release the water now. Thank you for your help."

The groundwater rushed back in and wrapped around the pipe. A hairline crack appeared. Whoa? I hurriedly reinforced it with extra mana, and it firmed right back up.

Even though my mana was thin, water is stronger than I thought.

Still, all's well that ends well — it's finished.

Yoo-hoo.

I narrowed my mind's eye and watched the tip of a branch.

A branch of solid mana had been installed at its end, with a droplet of mana resting on a mana leaf, swaying in the breeze. I watched in silence, but no mana was captured by the droplet — if anything, it swayed with the wind until it finally trickled off and away.

So once it leaves my body, my mana senses can't reach it after all.

When ambient mana in the wind gets startled by an unfamiliar droplet, someone has to soothe it personally — and that crucial step was missing. Looks like I'll need to raise my mana level for this one.

Honestly, even following the proper procedure felt so artificial I wasn't sure it would fit the true way of natural circulation.

I removed the mana branch and grew an honest, genuine branch instead.

My maximum height climbed from 1,280cm to 1,520cm, and my daily capture rose from an average of 80 to 90.

My mana capture has been climbing steadily, so if I keep leveling up, 20,000 MP should soon come within reach.

The pipe did eat up more mana than I expected — solid mana is hungry work — but given time, more will come regardless.

So what could I actually do with 20,000 MP once I gathered it?

Could I make another water droplet, maybe? Though I have no real idea how one goes about creating a spirit.

Then again, everything so far has been done without theory — just doing it first and figuring it out after. Maybe overthinking it would actually be the loss here.

While I was earnestly contemplating making my little spirit a sibling, the droplet herself came bounding back from an ecstatic trip outside.

Today's droplet brought no gift at all. She'd apparently played so hard she never had a spare thought for presents.

The helmeted droplet flew straight at me and hovered this way and that, as if to say: look here.

"I'm already looking."

Had she prepared something while she was out?

The droplet zipped down toward the rock. Huh? That place? She swept the leaf aside and picked up the discarded mana sword.

Whoa?

The droplet settled atop the rock and went still for a moment. Her surface shifted, her shape gradually transforming.

Tiny arms stretched out, legs sprouted into being. A head took form, water-made locks of hair swaying gently. A very small, water-gleaming maiden raised the sword.

Huh?

The spirit put on a grave expression and moved the blade.

The toothpick sword whipped through the air. She slashed this way, slashed that way, then turned to me with shining eyes.

Whoa.

"Amazing."

The spirit covered her mouth and giggled, then put her serious face back on and swung the sword through the empty air again.

Swish-swish, swish-swish-swish.

And then she looked at me expectantly once more. Her water-bright eyes sparkled.

"Whoaaa, amazing. The finest sword strike of my entire life as a plant."

The spirit bounced up and down, arms raised in a victory cheer.

Could it be... she'd felt guilty about the way I reacted when she abandoned the sword?

That must have been it. She treated me to a dazzling sword demonstration for a while, had her fun, and afterward promptly returned to her droplet form.

Apparently the droplet form is simply her preference.

"By the way, where did you learn to copy a form like that?"

The droplet tilted her upper half to one side. Her helmet's horn pointed in a particular direction — toward where the wooden arrow was.

I knew it.

Was there a training ground beyond there? A place where people shot bows and swung swords — how impressive.

The wooden arrow had looked crude, as if handmade, so maybe it wasn't a proper training ground. Perhaps just some girl's secret clearing.

When I checked that direction again, I found another wooden arrow lying beside the first one.

Huh? When did that appear?

I was fairly sure it hadn't been there yesterday. And I didn't think it was there at dawn either.

So someone misfired during today's archery practice, then...?

As I watched, a brand-new wooden arrow came whistling through the air and dropped with a tock right beside the others.

Whoa.

Their aim was perfectly consistent — in the worst possible way.

You could call this talent.

No lie, it genuinely looked like talent. Landing every arrow in the exact same spot means a rock-steady stance. With a little refinement, wouldn't they get good fast?

Just then, the thicket rustled.

A hand pushed the leaves aside. A foot stepped out onto the grass.

Pair of eyes scanned the ground back and forth. On spotting an arrow, they lit up with delight — then, on realizing there were three of them in the same spot, went utterly dumbfounded.

A rich mane of golden hair and deep blue eyes.

A girl with slightly long ears.

Whoaaa.

An elf.