Chương 316: B5—Chapter 36: Fields of Plenty, Hoarders Anonymous

Mahya stared at the core, her expression distant and contemplative. Her lips pressed into a thin line, and I could almost see the gears turning in her head. Suspecting her hesitation, I broke the silence.

"We should leave this dungeon alone. When this world finally pulls its head out of its ass, this dungeon will be worth a lot." She let out a long sigh, her shoulders slumping as she nodded.

"Yeah, you're right. Doesn't mean I have to like it." On the way down, Al turned to Rue, tapping his fingers against his thigh.

"Rue, if I give you my share of the eggs we collected, would you trade me the fertilizer?" Rue's tail thumped me so hard I had to grab the wall to keep my balance and not go over the ledge.

"Yes!" he said, his tone excited. I raised a hand, cutting in.

"You know that's not such a great deal, right?" Rue tilted his head toward me.

"Why not?"

"Because I keep all the foodstuff," I explained, "and I cook for everyone. Which means Al will still get to eat his share of the eggs anyway." Rue paused, clearly processing this new information. Then, with a huff, he declared,"Rue no plant bananas!"

"Okay, buddy. If you're sure," I said with a shrug, trying not to laugh. Al's glare could've melted through the tree trunk.

"You tried to sabotage me," he accused.

"Hey, don't look at me like that," I said, raising my hands in mock surrender.

"It's my job to protect his interests." He didn't look convinced, though his glare softened into mild annoyance.

"Fine," he grumbled, his voice tight.

"I concur." We continued traveling for two weeks, and nothing out of the ordinary happened. Occasionally, we had to fend off attacks in the air, which was frustrating, given that the balloon was supposed to exude a strong "Ignore me and think of something else" vibe. Unfortunately, it seemed to work only on some birds and flying creatures—the status unclear whether they were monsters or just beasts—but definitely not all. When we landed, things didn't get much more manageable.

We had to repel attacks on the ground, too. The usual culprits were the flying snakes, which seemed to be everywhere in this world, and roaming packs of wild dogs. But it wasn't just them—this world had a talent for variety. One day, it was vicious donkeys with claws and sharp teeth; the next, scraglin brutes lumbering toward us, their bodies riddled with embedded junk. The strangest one, though, was a scraglin behemoth I had to deal with—again.

This massive thing was practically a walking scrapyard stuffed with vehicle parts and rocks. I took it out with Aggressive Clean, scrubbing it to death. A bizarre way to kill a monster, but effective. It was one colossal bastard, and I gave my Aggressive Clean spell a metaphorical pat on the back. No matter what Mahya said—or how many times she twisted the name to mock it—this spell was fabulous. We ran into a few other aggressive creatures along the way, but we dealt with them easily.

Nothing else compared to that overgrown scrap heap. The wind led us to four more dungeons, all of which they cleared without needing me. This time, the rewards weren't anything extraordinary, so there was no reason for me to participate from the start, and we didn't bother waiting for the dungeons to regenerate for me to get something worthwhile. In one dungeon, they received swords—not magical or enchanted, but solid, reliable weapons.

Rue also got one, which prompted Mahya to take the core rather than leave it for me to clear. The other dungeons only gave gold—nothing special. The silver lining was that Mahya now had 97 cores, and I could finally see the light at the end of the tunnel. Of course, I hadn't heard her say anything along the lines of, "I'll have enough soon," which made me suspect she had no intention of stopping at 100. Sure, she'd said,"At least a hundred," but still—a boy could dream, right?

I held my fingers crossed and hoped for the best. At the end of those two weeks, we reached an area that must have been the breadbasket of whatever country once thrived here—maybe even the entire continent. On the Map, it was still endless green, but instead of forests, it stretched into fields that seemed to go on forever, as far as my eyes could see. And now, thanks to my improved perception, that was really, really far. If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen.

Please report the infringement. Nature started reclaiming the land, with clusters of trees scattered across the fields and patches of wild, half-fallow crops. Still, the sheer amount of available food was staggering. There were fields of grain and vegetables, orchards bursting with fruits and nuts, and massive herds of livestock. Beef cattle roamed freely, along with those big, hairy hogs, and what seemed like a variety of sheep analogs.

On Earth, we had sheep, goats, and maybe llamas if you got creative and threw them in as a variety. But here there were at least seven distinct breeds, each with unique features. No horses, though. Not even anything that remotely resembled horses. No wonder the people here rode those strange, oversized dogs instead. Without horses, they must have adapted in the weirdest ways, and those giant dogs were probably the closest thing this world had to a trusty steed.

The closest city on the Map was at least two weeks away by balloon, and probably a month or more on those giant dogs. So, the odds of anyone from this world harvesting these fields were practically zero. On the one hand, just looking at the endless fields made my mana channels itch at the thought of how many times I'd have to cast the harvest spell.

On the other hand, the sheer variety of food here was tempting—ingredients I could experiment with, sell, or maybe even give to people if we came across a city worth visiting. It was hard not to see the potential, even if the workload loomed like a scary cloud over my head. Mahya found the whole situation hilarious. She kept clapping me on the back with that wicked smile, tossing in an occasional wink for good measure.

I wasn't sure what amused her more—the endless fields or the thought of me working myself to the bone casting the harvest spell. Al, on the other hand, was far more subdued. He could cast the spell plenty of times with his sizable mana reserves, and I'd even made him a spell marble for it. It was time for him to pull his weight, and judging by the look on his face, he knew it. No words were needed—his resigned expression said it all.

"I wonder if the edible dungeon was this world's way of warning me," I said morosely. Mahya burst out laughing, clapping her hands together.

"I like your description."

"Well, it was edible," I said, shrugging.

"Yeah, sort of," she said with a grin, leaning against the side of the balloon.

"But whether it was a prophecy or not? No clue. Probably not—it's too far."

"I'll leave the beef, hogs, and the rest to you," I said, waving a hand toward the fields.

"Though honestly, I'm not sure if we need more beef. Between the dungeon and that farming community, we've got plenty already."

"You didn't sell any to the cultivators?" Al asked.

"No. I only sold them the stuff we didn't want—like those turkeys with the toothy beaks." Mahya visibly shuddered.

"Don't remind me." I opened my house and began the laborious task of harvesting the fields and orchards. A week in, I hit my first snag: space. Even with all the stuff I'd sold, storage was becoming an issue. To buy myself some time, I moved all the coolers packed with beef into the Inventory I got with my Merchant profession. That helped—a lot, actually—for about three more days. But eventually, I hit the limit again. I had no choice; I needed to expand my Storage. This time, I was smart about it.

First, I converted one ability point into five stat points and put them all into intelligence, just in case. After that, I spent two more ability points to enlarge my Storage twice. There was no point doing it in stages when I already knew I'd need the extra space. Better to get it done all at once. Now, I had 373, 248 m³.

It was scary—like looking at a cavernous warehouse that stretched so far into the distance, you couldn't see the end, the kind of space that made you feel small and insignificant just thinking about it. And, of course, it gave me an even worse case of vertigo. But there was a silver lining. Every time I enlarged my Storage, I "pressed" on the top and "stretched" the length to achieve more "normal" proportions. It seemed that either my mana or the Guidance finally got the memo.

This time, there was no awkward growth in height—just an extension in length. Small mercies. Mahya and Al managed the "live" food while I harvested produce. Eventually, I had to relocate my house; our foraging had taken us so far from its original spot that it wasn't practical to keep trekking back and forth. At some point, I started skipping fields and orchards full of the same types of crops. Two or three tons of something was manageable, but twenty or more tons was just an overkill.

Variety was the goal now—no point drowning in one thing when there was so much more to collect. We kept pushing further and further out, eventually needing the bikes and ATV to reach the next area. Once again, I had to relocate my house to keep up with our progress. Mahya and Al each enlarged their Storage once to contribute space for the growing mountain of supplies. After six weeks of nonstop work, broken up only by periods of active regeneration, we'd all had enough.

Between the three of us, we'd amassed enough food to last for years—even if we sold off ninety percent of it. It was time to move on. On our last evening before taking off, Mahya casually said, "I wonder if the fields further north have different types of food." The look Al and I gave her was so sharp that she instantly recoiled, her expression shifting to one of alarm. Good! She could keep those thoughts to herself. Some ideas were better left unspoken.