Self-Reliance

The Dry River wound past the rocky ridge on the western side of Greystone Post. Its banks were vast stretches of cracked mud, the network of fissures spreading into the distance like a spiderweb.

Shane stood at the edge of the riverbank. Ignoring Sern behind him, his gaze slowly followed the path of the riverbed.

The riverbed was significantly lower than the surrounding terrain, by about a meter. The mud along the edges had been baked into a hard crust under the blazing sun of the dry season.

But Shane was not focused on the cracked surface. Instead, he looked at the grayish-brown soil layer faintly visible deep within the cracks, its color much darker than the surface soil.

He squatted down, pinched a handful of surface sand between his fingers, and brought it to his nose to sniff. It was dry with a slight alkaline scent, with no trace of humus.

Then he grabbed another handful of soil, crumbled and rubbed it, and even put a little in his mouth to taste. He muttered to himself, “The surface layer is sandy soil with low organic content and poor water retention.”

Shane stood up and raised his hand to summon a skeletal hound. At his signal, the skeletal hound began digging along the edge of the riverbank.

At first, it only dug up fine sand and cracked mud clods. But once it reached about thirty centimeters deep, the soil's color began to darken, and its texture became sticky.

Shane scooped up a handful of this mud. It didn't slip through his fingers as quickly as the surface sand had; instead, it clung together slightly, forming a loose clump with just a bit of pressure.

“Ha, as expected.”

Shane smiled, a look of understanding flashing in his eyes. “There's a clay layer underneath. Otherwise, the riverbed wouldn't have cracked so evenly on the surface.”

Then he stood up and directed the skeletal hound to move to another spot and keep digging. After testing several locations in a row, Shane had a rough grasp of the soil conditions along this stretch of the riverbank.

Just then, a wave of whispering drifted into Shane's ears on the warm breeze. He turned around to see the group of Greystone Post residents, led by Karl, standing on the sandy slope behind him with digging tools in hand.

“What is he doing?”

“I don't know. Didn't they say we're planting trees?”

“Yeah, but don't you find it weird? A necromancer planting trees... shouldn't that be...”

Everyone's eyes fell upon Elon, who stood silently nearby. Obviously, in their eyes, when it came to planting trees, the druid was far more trustworthy than the necromancer.

After all, those people were naturally gifted at dealing with plants and animals, and they also had the blessing of the Goddess of Life.

But to their confusion, Elon didn't say a word from beginning to end. He just stood there quietly, watching Shane busy himself up and down the riverbank. He only raised an eyebrow slightly when Shane tasted the sand, yet he still made no move to step forward and offer guidance.

This struck the crowd as bizarre, and they began to mutter among themselves.

“Why isn't the druid saying anything? He's just letting that necromancer do all the work.”

Old Karl glared at the speaker and lowered his voice. “If he's not speaking, he surely has his reasons. Why are you worrying so much?”

As they spoke, Shane dismissed the skeletal hound and walked toward the crowd. Arriving in front of them, he turned and pointed to a gentle slope to the east. “We'll start with this section.”

“Leave a two-meter buffer zone on both sides of the riverbed, and start digging beyond that. Plant the Red Willows on the slope, and the Suosuo at the foot of the slope and the edge of the riverbank. Alternate the two.”

When he finished speaking, silence fell over the area. Everyone looked at one another, but not a single person moved.

“What are you all standing around for?”

Old Karl was the first to act. Having lived for so many years, he saw things much more clearly than the others. He looked back and glared at those who were still hesitating. “They've already pointed out the spot. What are you still standing there like statues for?”

With that, Old Karl walked over to the designated spot Shane had indicated with his shovel. He spat into his palms, bent down, and drove the shovel into the hard earth.

The blade of the shovel barely went in half a knuckle's depth before getting stuck in the hard ground. Seeing this, Old Karl pressed down hard. The shovel went in a bit further, but his progress was visibly slow.

“Still standing there? Come and help!”

Urged by Old Karl, the others finally began to drag their feet forward.

But faced with soil that had hardened like bricks, their efficiency was incredibly low.

Shane watched from the side for a while, his brow gradually furrowing. He walked straight toward the nearest young man, who was swinging a pickaxe at the ground. Every strike was off by a few inches, and the holes he made were shallow and tiny.

Shane reached out and held the handle of his pickaxe, which gave the young man a fright. Shane didn't get too close to him, but pointed to where the pickaxe should land. “Chisel a circle at an angle first. Once it's loosened up, dig downward. Don't use brute force.”

He gestured to show the angle and distance, then squatted down to draw a circle on the hard ground with his fingertip. “Break the surface layer first, then the lower layer. If your strikes are off by too much, you're just wasting your strength.”

The young man stared at him blankly, then looked down at the circle on the ground. After a moment's hesitation, he adjusted his stance and swung the pickaxe again.

This time, the pickaxe bit much deeper than before.

His eyes lit up, and he struck twice more in rapid succession. Shards of earth flew everywhere, and his efficiency improved visibly.

Shane then turned and walked to the other side, correcting a middle-aged man's digging technique and giving a woman a tip on how to save her strength.

Within moments, Shane had made his rounds through the crowd, ensuring that the depth of every hole met the standard.

Standing on the slope not far away, Elon watched Shane, feeling deeply moved.

The instructions Shane used to correct those people's movements seemed simple, but every word was highly practical, without a single bit of fluff.

In the past, Shane had always planted the trees himself while Elon assisted, so Elon hadn't paid much attention to this. Looking at it now, Shane really knew an incredible amount about this field.

As he watched Shane take out the Red Willow cuttings, this feeling became even more pronounced.

“Insert the cuttings at a slight angle so the root system has room to spread horizontally.”

“Don't fill the hole with soil all at once. Fill it halfway first, hold the cutting steady, and then fill the other half. Apply even pressure when packing the soil so you don't break the roots.”

Shane spoke slowly so that Old Karl and the others could hear him clearly. Under Shane's guidance, some of them couldn't help but try planting with their own hands. Their fingers trembled as they held the cuttings, clumsily mimicking Shane's movements.

Elon finally couldn't hold back anymore.

He walked down the slope to Shane and, taking advantage of a moment when Shane stood up to stretch, asked in a low voice, “Tell me honestly. Before you became a necromancer, you weren't a druid, were you?”

Shane tilted his head and gave him a strange look. “How could that be?”

Elon also knew it was a stupid question, but he couldn't help but wonder. He looked at Shane, opened his mouth to speak, but ultimately said nothing, simply shaking his head and stepping aside.

Whatever, he had thought Shane seemed like an old farmer from the very beginning anyway.

Before long, Old Karl squatted beside the Red Willow he had just planted. His rough fingers gently touched the tip of the cutting before quickly pulling back, as if terrified of breaking it.

He then looked around. The others were also squatting by the holes they had dug, staring blankly at the cuttings they had just covered with soil.

“Can these... really live?”

Old Karl muttered to himself anxiously. Hearing this, the surrounding residents nodded in agreement. Even though they had followed Shane's instructions step-by-step, they couldn't shake the unsettling feeling of doubt in their hearts.

Hearing this, Shane stood up from beside a newly planted Red Willow and walked over to Karl.

Without saying a word, he simply bent down and placed his hand over the sandy soil at the base of the cutting.

Green light seeped from his palm, gradually soaking into the soil.

Everyone present held their breath.

A few seconds later, a bright green luster began to shimmer on the surface of the cutting. Immediately after, the curled tender leaves at the tip began to unfurl.

In no time, they became glossy, and their color deepened.

Then, under everyone's wide-eyed gazes, a tiny new bud sprouted from the very top of the cutting.

“Hiss!”

Old Karl gasped, nearly falling backward onto the ground. His finger trembled as he pointed at the new bud, his lips quivering for a long moment before he finally squeezed out, “It's alive! It's really alive!”

The surrounding residents immediately swarmed over, straining their necks to look at the Red Willow, letting out all kinds of amazed exclamations.

“Hey, it really grew!”

“And it was just planted!”

“This is simply miraculous!”

Standing on the outer edge of the crowd, Elon took in Shane's actions, his eye twitching slightly.

Shane then stood up, looked at the excited residents, and said, “This is the basics of planting. The rest just involves watering them once the well water is purified. Fortunately, the nutrients in this riverbank are more abundant than I expected, so we probably won't need any other external aids.”

From the looks of it, these newly planted Red Willows wouldn't even need a Living Soil Pouch, which couldn't help but make Elon feel a bit disappointed.

But this feeling didn't last long.

The sand not far away suddenly bulged, and Sara's massive figure emerged. She waved her two giant pincers, her stinger held high in the air, looking as if she had encountered something very pleasing.