Wizard: Starting with Symbiosis with Algae

Taming shouldn't be too difficult for Ruby. She has violence, cold magic, and a whole system of knowledge about worms.

Logically speaking, it shouldn't be so difficult that you need to ask Lynn for help.

So, Lynn leaned against the metal countertop of the testing station, pushed aside a tray of freshly prepared powder, and said with a hint of doubt, "I'm not an apprentice of the Worm School. Are you sure?"

Ruby continued to plead.

"I know. The situation is a bit special, and perhaps your experience can give me some inspiration."

Lynn couldn't think of too many possibilities. After all, the temperature had been rising these past two days.

In Lynn's memory, apart from hail and low temperatures, there was nothing that could frighten the flying stick.

Ruby is a professional, so it's impossible that she didn't take these two factors into account. This makes it even more suspicious.

Lynn was suspicious as she reached under the sink and touched the drawer.

Because he and Ruby are in the same boat.

I'll need to consult with you again about the wizarding academy.

Inside the drawer, Ruby had installed a layer of perforated metal mesh in a small compartment she had modified at the very back of the refrigerator.

As soon as I opened the cubicle door, a blast of cold air hit me, and Ruby's throwing stick lay quietly inside.

The rope was looped around its head and chest joint and wrapped around the outside of the box. Just untying the small compartments and the rope was quite a hassle.

If it weren't for the fact that we're currently in the middle of the garbage time while waiting for the spaceship.

Lynn had absolutely no interest.

But unexpectedly, the flying stick suddenly bounced up aggressively, as if it were about to pounce.

Excitement?

interesting.

The cold is still surging, which is definitely not a normal situation.

We must deliver a powerful blow.

Lynn carefully examined the restless flying stick in the cubicle.

Its electric light is dim, but the flashes are extremely fast, and its abdomen is raised, like a spiny dragon.

Upon seeing Lynn approach, he began breathing on her without saying a word.

"Heh heh."

Lynn was stunned for a moment

That little gadget is quite courageous.

This flying stick looks like it's challenging his position as leader.

Because it was poisoned and captured, it wasn't allowed to use its full strength, so it was resentful. Social animals might indeed think this way. From a certain perspective, fair competition followed by food seems to be the proper way to domesticate it.

But Lynn didn't think so. Now that he had the advantage, he wasn't going to give it up for nothing.

Since the flying staff was at its weakest, the best course of action was to press the attack.

Lynn waved his finger at the throwing stick, then pulled it out with his left hand and held it in front of him.

The flying stick swung back and forth, its body bent, as if trying to deliver a head-on blow to Lynn using a swing-like motion.

Naive

naive

Lynn was not about to let him succeed.

He muttered a word to himself.

"Cold..." A chill ran through his hand, freezing the flying stick solid.

Then, he reached out and touched the belly of the flying stick.

Bend up and stick out.

Thump...

Lynn flicked the flying stick at him.

once.

twice

Knock knock, twice more.

Is he trying to act tough by not saying a word?

They truly are the elite among worms.

Lynn curled his lip. Ruby must have used an attack of this level before. Ruby also had the Wizard's Hand, and was even stronger.

What do we need him to do?

Ruby remained silent.

Lynn glanced at the two bloated, symbiotic flying sticks beside him and immediately had an idea.

Since humans cannot tame flying sticks through violence, what about the flying sticks themselves?

Since electric worms are social creatures, they must also be flying rods.

"Go and teach it a lesson..."

It froze instantly, just like when facing a drill instructor during military training.

This is why training dogs with dogs is twice as efficient.

...

A few hours later, Flying Stick was convinced and Ruby thanked him. Compared to what Ruby had done, Lynn didn't feel he had done much more.

It's just a hassle.

Lynn's elite flying clubs returned to his side.

He clapped his hands, and blue algae grew to keep the flying rod warm.

They inadvertently discovered another flying stick in the corner.

It was much more normal; it was just the flying stick with only two-thirds of its body left, and Lynn gave it a good name: 0.67.

That is, two-thirds, and hopefully it will feel ashamed and then strive to improve.

Having just emerged from the air conditioning, 0.67 shook its head and slowly rubbed its head against Lynn's ankle.

It's as docile as a squirrel.

Lynn scratched his head

It's really strange how the personalities of the flying sticks are so different.

Lynn looked down at the docile gray-blue mass on his ankle, then looked up and caught sight of the unusually intact flying rod in the cubicle.

I couldn't figure out what the problem was, since all the worms looked pretty much the same that night.

But then I thought, why should he think so much?

He's leaving tomorrow; he doesn't have enough time.

A gentle, patient drizzle was falling outside.

Lynn put her thoughts aside and looked out the window.

Lightning flashed and thunder roared over the plateau to the northwest. The lightning unleashed its energy relentlessly across the plateau.

He could only stand at the window of the experimental station, gazing into the distance through the fine rain.

He wasn't envious; he simply put on his clothes and decided to herd the sheep one last time.

While we're at it, we'll also clean up the debris from the airship crash site.

Therefore, he specially brought the small stone cart with him this time.

He called out to the worms

"Guys, come with me, it's time for the Last Supper."

...

At dusk, the sky was ablaze with fiery red.

This wasn't Lynn's first time herding livestock, but it was definitely the slowest he had ever moved.

Lynn has adjusted the herding rhythm again and again.

With the flying stick, he no longer needed to do everything himself.

Those two symbiotic flying rods are his sheepdogs, and he only needs to adjust their direction occasionally, while he can use the rest of his time to do other things.

He remembered the scene of herding the sheep that morning very clearly.

He led the bug car team eastward along the coastline.

Lynn did not personally chase them away.

He merely gave a vague command to the two flying rods through the symbiotic connection.

He let them drive the worm swarm towards the thickest part of the fungal carpet. Then he sat on a protruding red rock and watched it all happen.

Lynn's assignment of tasks to the two flying rods was vague. One was probably responsible for patrolling the perimeter, moving back and forth along the edge of the insect vehicle formation.

The other one was responsible for driving them away, swimming close to the tails of the worms, occasionally speeding up.

The command is simple, but the effect is quite good.

In less than half an hour, the thickest patch of fungal carpet was gnawed away, revealing the reddish-brown sand beneath, as if it had been bulldozed. The worms' bellies swelled up, and their movement slowed visibly; they were full and too lazy to move.

Lynn used his flying stick to free himself from herding duties.

Thanks to the addition of the flying stick, the total number of worms he caught after the hailstorm doubled.

There were originally fewer than forty, scattered sparsely across the fungal carpet, not arranged in a row.

He now has nearly ninety herds, divided into three groups: one group eats in the hot spring area by the sea, one group rests in the cave, and the other group comes out with him to graze.

Each was being watched by a different flying stick.

The temperature inside the cave is higher than outside, and the humidity is also sufficient. Because there is not enough time, potatoes will no longer be planted, and the cave will be used as a temporary enclosure for worms.

Lynn crouched down at the cave entrance, watching the noisy creatures. He felt a little smug.

These guys are probably worth a fair amount.

If they were a little fatter, the nutritional extracts from these worms alone could be exchanged for a considerable amount of magic stones once we return to the wizarding planet.

After finishing his recitation, Lynn went to the crash site of the spaceship next to the cave.

A sail is planted in the mud, and the red sand buries the questions of the past.

"Worms, come here and move it away..."