Geo is the most common element, which also means it lacks a strong presence.
Something that seems ordinary can be transformed into a weapon with overwhelming destructive power—something no other element can achieve.
Pyro, Electro, Hydro, Cryo... no matter which of them appears on the battlefield, they all stand out immediately.
After receiving Elliot's approval, Morax looked delightedly at the spear prototype forming in his hands.
"Brother, what about this part? How should I shape it?"
Having pieced together over a dozen fragments, Morax had puzzled over one particular section for ages without finding a solution, so he finally asked.
"Make this part thinner, and let that edge stick out a bit," Elliot instructed, guiding the placement of the small stone fragment.
Ever since Morax had given the spear a name, he had clearly grown much more patient, diligently piecing it together.
But this only made things harder for Elliot, who was constantly being asked questions. And when Morax's mind just couldn't grasp something, Elliot's blood pressure would spike.
"I can't do this anymore. I'm done."
Several days later, Elliot finally broke. This was the most difficult student he had ever taught, and he was beginning to regret ever showing Morax how to make this thing.
He had spent days on end with him, skipping food, drink, and even sleep, just to help him craft the spear.
To Elliot, this was the simplest task imaginable. Yet somehow, Morax—the God of Geo—was learning at a painfully slow pace.
This frustration mostly came from Elliot setting Morax too high and himself too low. He had raised his expectations while downplaying his own ability.
The truth was, the reason Elliot could do this so effortlessly was because his spiritual power was enormous.
Forging these Magic Scale Spears? He could create several in mere seconds, let alone days.
To him, it was child's play—no more complicated than teaching a kid to add and subtract numbers under ten.
The problem was, after days of trying, the kid still hadn't learned.
He was on the verge of collapsing, so he simply decided to slack off.
"What does 'slack off' mean?" Morax was exhausted too, but seeing the spear already halfway done, he gritted his teeth and kept going.
Hearing Morax's question and seeing the fiery determination in his eyes—if even someone so hot-tempered could calm himself down and devote this much effort—how could Elliot give up first?
"Slacking off means working even harder," Elliot replied casually, making up an explanation on the spot as he resolved to be more patient.
"Oh, I see... Then I'll slack off too!"
Seeing Brother Elliot's patience, Morax proudly repeated the new phrase he'd just learned.
"......"
Elliot was momentarily speechless. The way Morax said it sounded strange, but he couldn't be bothered to correct the meaning.
"Slack off, don't slack off, whatever works. Let's just finish this quickly so we can rest."
With Elliot's encouragement, Morax's confidence surged again.
Together, they spent half a month before Morax finally completed his very first Magic Scale Spear.
He stared at the weapon in disbelief, frozen in place.
In that instant, he felt a sense of accomplishment unlike anything before—even greater than winning a battle.
"This... I actually made this...?"
Morax gently caressed the spear, as though it were a rare treasure. His eyes brimmed with affection and delight, as if the weapon weren't a tool of war but a long-awaited lover.
"I'm exhausted." Elliot flopped down on the grass, too tired to care.
"Magic Scale Spear..."
"This is my Magic Scale Spear!"
Morax was so excited he bounced around like he'd been injected with pure adrenaline, waving the plain-looking spear in his hands as he jumped about.
To an outsider, he might have looked insane. But his reaction was only natural—Morax was combative and hot-tempered, never the patient type.
Yet he had forced himself to endure two full weeks just to make a single weapon.
That alone earned Elliot's respect.
Still, it was probably because the move looked cool. Morax was the kind of man who would put everything on the line just for style.
Or rather, the kind of boy who would.
"Youth really is something," Elliot sighed as he lay on the grass, watching Morax swing and thrust the spear at the empty air, endlessly energetic.
"Morax." After a long rest, Elliot slowly sat up and took out his tea set.
"What is it, bro?" By now, after half a month, Morax had grown completely used to addressing him that way.
"Come here. I need to tell you something."