They wore rough clothes made from leaves, bark, and some kind of thin vine, which for them, counted as clothing, even though each piece was no larger than a fingernail.
Each miniature being carried a tiny basket also folded from leaves on their back, holding tools finer than a toothpick in their hands, as they lay on a bush’s branches, carefully scraping the Nightmare Dust from the surface.
With every dusting, they gently placed it into their basket, with skilled and delicate motions, evidently well-versed in this procedure.
Duke’s gaze swept across the entire gentle slope; not just this bush, nearby several other shrubs, there were at least dozens of the same miniature beings, scattered around over twenty shrubs, each absorbed in their work.
Their distribution was uneven; some shrubs gathered four or five beings working simultaneously, some only had one or two, and others carried baskets already filled, moving towards one direction atop the slope.
Duke followed that direction with his gaze, spotting an extremely concealed entrance beneath a jagged piece of shale the height of half a person at the slope’s summit.
The entrance barely the size of a fist, partially concealed by several dried leaves and a deliberately placed small stone; if not for those tiny beings heading in that direction with their baskets, he would never have noticed it was an entrance.
This was a complete collection team, organized, with division of labor, and a fixed entrance to their base.
These were not wandering individuals that had accidentally intruded, but a miniature intelligent species settled in the Nightmare Plane.
In the Six-Ring Tower Library, while perusing the Nightmare Plane’s literature, Duke had come across sporadic records of native intelligent life on the Nightmare Plane.
Most of the literature only skimmed over them, as exploration of the Nightmare Plane by the Wizard Plane was scarce, and even fewer people made it back alive.
Duke could only infer from other documents read that these were humanoid creatures named Glowing Elves, bearing some resemblance in form to elves, but tiny in size, naturally possessing the talent to blend seamlessly into their environment, usually foraging for a living, gentle and timid in nature, never actively attacking outsiders.
These must be akin to them, Duke’s gaze locked onto one tiny being standing atop the foliage, in charge of vigilance.
Its size was slightly larger than the ordinary members, about as tall as an adult’s index finger, dressed in armor crafted from bark finer than the other beings, wearing a dark-toned helmet made from a kind of beetle elytra polished atop its head.
A slim shortsword ground from thorn spikes hung at its waist, the hilt wrapped with a barely visible vine.
Its energy signal noticeably stronger than other beings, roughly at Level 1 mid-tier.
Achieving this level in thumb-sized creatures was already a rare achievement.
Duke stood behind a tree trunk observing for a while, his mind racing with judgment.
Their concealment ability was astonishing; earlier, when he came within thirty steps, the conventional spiritual power scan completely failed to detect their presence.
After observing the situation clearly, Duke gradually approached them, not deliberately making any noise to disturb these beings.
It was the leader who first discovered him; as Duke took the first step, the leader was checking the progress of one plant’s collection.
Its body stiffened slightly, then turned its head with extreme slowness and restraint.
When its gaze fell upon Duke, its entire body trembled violently, as if struck by thunder.
Its nearly indiscernible small eyes widened to the fullest, mouth opening then closing, closing then opening, the tool for collection finer than a toothpick silently slipping from its grip, fell upon the leaves of the bush with a nearly inaudible faint sound.
A thumb-sized life looking up at a giant standing about 1.8 meters tall; even though Duke’s height was middling among human wizards, to them the contrast was still utterly striking.
They could also clearly sense the hidden and dangerous aura emanating from Duke, a life form far exceeding their capabilities.
The Nightmare Plane housed many powerful beings; amidst it, Glowing Elves were near the bottom of the food chain, shaping their timid nature.
A huge terror arose in the little leader’s heart instantaneously.
This terror wasn’t fear of death, but rather more primal, the awe and horror when facing an existence entirely beyond one’s comprehension, that made the soul itself tremble.
Its helmet, polished out of beetle elytra, slightly tilted, slipping to above its brow amidst its trembling, yet it didn’t even raise a hand to adjust.
Then panic rippled out like a pebble dropped in a pond.
Duke stood motionless at the slope’s edge, silently watching the low vegetation thickets before him boil over in chaos.
His gaze swept the slope, all over twenty thickets there were tiny beings fleeing for their lives, some shrubs saw three to five beings leap out simultaneously, engrossed moments ago in scraping Nightmare Dust, now scattered like disturbed ants.
From the nearest bush to Duke, a tiny being putting dust into its basket looked up, saw him and let out a squeal that barely exceeded the buzz of mosquito wings, then without even taking the basket and collecting tools, directly rolled from the foliage onto the rocky ground below, somersaulting twice before scrambling up, one shoe of tree bark slipping off a foot, and oblivious to retrieve, with one bare foot dashed toward the cave.
Another, a bit farther, was standing on a branch of a bush looking into a basket, turning to see Duke saw the entire creature leap, nearly spilling the dust from the basket, without thinking burrowing deeper into the foliage, dense with branches and leaves gaps too tight to penetrate, anxious spinning in place countless circles before remembering to run another way.
Farthest on the slope, several tiny beings having been heading to the cave with baskets already filled, suddenly hearing their companion’s scream turned back, seeing Duke, two threw away their baskets immediately.
Gray-white dust scattered from the overturned baskets along the way, they ran headlong to the cave, two slender legs on the stone ground almost leaving after-images.
Amidst this boiling chaos, Duke’s gaze noted a detail.
One tiny being racing to the cave suddenly halted, turned to glimpse behind at the Nightmare Dust scattered everywhere.
It looked at the dust on the ground, then at Duke the giant, two legs shaking like dead leaves in the wind, yet those tiny eyes forced out an incongruous mix of hesitation and heartbreak.
It froze on the spot for about two seconds, then suddenly closed its eyes tight, turning back at full throttle to the scattered baskets without ever raising its head to Duke, just desperately scraping the scattered dust back into a single broken basket, frantic and rapid in movement, muttering something silently to itself.
But Duke did not observe it for too long, because the most noteworthy action on the entire gentle slope wasn’t made by it.
The leader, amidst this rapid retreat of the community, hadn’t fled, although its legs visibly shook, shaking worse than that tiny being going back for the dust, yet it stood, holding its ground.
Then it raised both hands over its head, ten slender fingers intertwining each other, bending, then unfurling in an extremely complex rhythm.
The curious gesture, more ceremonial than spell-like, using fingertip motions to communicate a particular meaning.
After completing the gesture, the leader deeply bowed, forehead almost touching its feet.
Duke waited a moment, sensing a strand of subtle spiritual tendril extending from the leader, cautiously reaching in his direction.
The tendril so thin as to nearly become transparent, trembling in the air, with every bit closer to Duke it shook violently, as though struggling amidst a storm, offering forth the filament.
Upon receiving its spiritual power’s message, Duke understood; the leader of the Glowing Elves was negotiating, petitioning to exchange these Nightmare Dust for their tribe’s safety.
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