The era of Griffin's adventures still belonged to the age when Classical Magic flourished.
In that era, wizards all learned a theorem: mass was directly proportional to energy—the greater the mass, the greater the energy. Starting from that theorem, one might ask in reverse: could greater energy result in greater mass?
Put another way, giants possessed tremendous strength. If one possessed tremendous strength oneself, would one become a giant? Without question, immense strength could support an enormous body.
Following this line of thought, Griffin devised a series of experimental plans according to traditional wizarding methods.
The first problem these plans needed to solve was how to increase his strength.
The method was simple. One word: eat.
And so, this wizard trapped in desperate straits began eating frantically. From three to five grains of rice a day, to thirty or fifty, then three to five hundred, three to five thousand—until eventually, he consumed an entire giant granary in a single day.
His appetite grew larger and larger, but his body never grew.
Until one day, as Griffin walked down a street in Giant World, he discovered that the world which had once terrified him beyond measure had somehow become loose and flimsy, as though it were made of paper.
With every step, his legs pressed deep spatial folds into Giant World. The paving stones beneath his feet seemed as brittle as bean curd dregs, while the giants' ferocious faces now appeared particularly comical.
Griffin knew that his strength had reached its limit.
But he was still not a giant.
What troubled him now was no longer how to survive in this dangerous world, but rather the difficult process of solving a very interesting experimental problem as a wizard.
*I am merely a very strong ant. I am still utterly insignificant in