I was acutely aware of the pessimism radiating from the men.
It was suffocating.
They were dangerously close to giving up before we even started. I needed to shift their perspective. Immediately.
"Tell me about the weather here," I said.
I paced slowly in front of them. "Is the rainfall heavy?"
A weathered man near the back raised his hand slightly.
"It gets quite heavy when we approach the winter months, my lord."
Subtropical climate.
Perfect.
"The soil here is rich and fertile," I explained. My voice projected absolute certainty. "We are going to plant wheat."
I pointed to the expansive plains on the right side of the village.
"I have already inspected the land over there. It is more than suitable."
"But will it actually work?" another villager asked.
His voice was fragile. It was laced with the trauma of repeated failures.
I offered a confident, unwavering smile.
"Relax. Leave the planning to me."
We spent the entire day carving out a massive plot for the wheat.
The labor was grueling.
We used whatever makeshift, rusted hoes the village had left in their storage. We dug into the earth and sowed the leftover seeds from their previous, failed attempts.
By late afternoon, the job was done.
The seeds were neatly and widely planted.
Water was brought up from the river. The soil was thoroughly soaked.
I stood at the edge of the freshly turned earth, barking out instructions.
"When this crop yields," I announced to the exhausted workers. "The harvest belongs entirely to this village. Free of charge."
The work for the day was finally finished.
The next morning, I gathered the men again.
My first order of business caught them completely off guard.
"I need you to collect cow dung from the ruined pastures," I instructed. "Gather whatever you can find and put it in wooden buckets."
They stared at me.
Wide, skeptical eyes.
"What is he going to build with cow dung?" a black-haired teenager whispered to his friend. "Maybe he wants to eat it."
I heard that clearly.
I kept my smile perfectly intact, though I cursed him vividly in my mind.
"So, what is the dung for, Lord Fragha?" Oderick asked. He tried to bridge the awkward tension.
"We are going to create organic fertilizer," I explained patiently. "The soil is already prime for planting. But adding this will drastically accelerate the growth."
A burly man frowned.
"Fertilizer? Is that not a luxury good? The merchants say those things are expensive."
"I have no idea what the merchants sell," I replied with an optimistic smirk. "But we are going to make a cheap, highly effective version right here."
I walked them through the process.
We gathered dry leaves, piling them up as a base layer.
We placed the collected dung on top.
Then, we covered it with a thick layer of abundant humus soil.
Finally, we laid broad tropical leaves over the entire pile.
It was left alone to let the natural decomposition process run its course.
"This is quite complicated," the black-haired teenager muttered.
He wiped the sweat from his brow.
"And how long do we wait for this pile of dirt to become fertilizer?" the man next to him asked.
"It will take quite some time to rot properly," I admitted. "Because of that, we need to prepare something else. Something we need immediately."
"What is that?" Oderick asked.
"Conventional pest control," I stated firmly.
Since the men were exhausted, I delegated the next task.
I gathered the women of the village near the central well.
"We need garlic and the spiciest chili peppers you have," I instructed.
Under my guidance, they crushed the spices into a fine paste using heavy stones. We mixed the pungent paste with several liters of water.
"Now, we let it sit for twenty-four hours," I told them. "Once the water absorbs the heat and the oils, we will strain out the solid waste."
By the following day, the potent liquid was ready.
Without modern sprayers, we had to improvise.
The women carried the strained liquid in small wooden buckets out to the fields.
Using bundled twigs and their bare hands, they meticulously sprinkled the spicy mixture. They lightly dusted the earth, warding off any insects that might try to eat our precious seeds.
Night fell over the village.
The air was cold. But there was a faint, unfamiliar sense of hope lingering in the settlement.
I retired to my small, drafty room in the chief's wooden house.
I lay on the impossibly hard mattress, staring up at the leaking roof.
My mind wandered to the bizarre reality of my situation.
I was in a different world.
A world that mirrored the fantasy webnovels I used to read.
"If this is a fantasy world..." I muttered into the darkness. "Then maybe..."
I cleared my throat.
I spoke slightly louder.
"System. Come out."
Silence.
Only the sound of the wind rattling the wooden walls answered me.
I sighed heavily.
"Of course. I knew that would not work."
Suddenly, the space above my bed illuminated.
A sleek, translucent blue screen flickered into existence right in front of my eyes.
Rows of text and icons materialized. It detailed a list of purchasable skills.
In the top corner, a small counter blinked softly.
It was a point system. I had earned it from the newfound happiness of the villagers.
"Madness," I whispered. My heart hammered against my ribs. "It actually worked."
[Your Points: 30p]
I sat up instantly, my exhaustion forgotten.
I eagerly scrolled through the digital catalog.
"Let us see... Fire manipulation? Ice creation? Interesting."
I lay back down.
I rested my chin on my hand, analyzing the market.
"There is nothing truly powerful that is also cheap," I grumbled. "The elemental skills are completely out of my budget."
I stroked my chin in deep thought.
I scrolled down.
Past the common magic.
Down to the very bottom of the obscured, forgotten categories.
My eyes scanned the blurry text.
Then,
"Wait. This skill..."