A Huge Haul

The next day, the sun shone brightly.

On the East Coast outside Runestone, lush green grass stretched as far as the eye could see.

"Baa baa~~"

A flock of goats swayed their plump rumps as they lowered their heads to munch on the grass.

From above, they looked like a bag of cotton candy that had fallen onto the ground and gotten dirty.

"Stop licking me. Go make trouble somewhere else."

Aemon, dressed differently today, tightened his little face as he shooed away several curious goats that had wandered over.

His short little legs spread into a horse stance as his hands clenched a clump of dark green grass and yanked with all his might.

He had gotten up early so he could sleep well and grow taller.

"Say, why are we pulling up all this grass?"

A head popped out from another cluster of goats. William complained reluctantly.

He pushed aside a goat that was getting in the way and shook a clump of Sweetgrass, roots and dirt included.

Aemon gathered his strength, gritted his teeth, and said in a trembling voice, "You wouldn't understand!"

Rip!

The Sweetgrass came out by the roots, and the recoil sent him tumbling backward.

Aemon landed on his butt, rolled twice, and climbed back up. His little face was flushed red from exhaustion.

"Phew, finally got it."

He brushed the dirt off the roots, smoothed out the blades, and placed them into the basket beside him.

Aemon had come fully prepared to harvest Sweetgrass and Magic Essence.

Resting one small hand on it, he leaned against the basket, which was nearly as tall as he was.

A simple layer of Sweetgrass lined the inside, with the Black Dragon Egg casually placed on top.

After catching his breath, Aemon took out a waterskin from the crossbody bag at his waist and tipped back several gulps.

The bag had a green cloth base, and its flap was embroidered with a white tower wreathed in flames.

Worn on his back, it looked both exquisite and snug.

"I'm alive again. Back to work."

In high spirits, Aemon put the waterskin back into his bag and gave it a pat.

It was a farewell gift from his good friend. He usually could not bear to use it.

William strode over, so tired that he felt dazed. "You're a prince. You don't need to do this kind of dirty, exhausting work."

Anything he wanted could be handled by Servants.

Aemon's big eyes shone as he pointed at the guards scattered in the distance, searching around. "They're all working. If I help out, we'll finish faster."

Sweetgrass was a treasure for getting rich. How could a few guards possibly be enough?

He could not sit still!

Aemon felt perfectly justified and worked with even greater enthusiasm.

In just one morning, he had reaped quite the harvest.

He had found five clumps of Sweetgrass and gained Magic Essence +5.

The Magic Essence Panel opened, and the exchange page had new offerings.

1. +5 Essence: After exchange, gain 5 Magic Essence.

The first gray card filled the vacancy left by yesterday's exchange and was priced at 10 Magic Essence.

2. Physique +1: Safely and harmlessly strengthen your body.

It was white and likewise cost 10 Magic Essence.

3. Swift Straw Shoes: After putting them on, you'll be faster than a horse.

They were a dazzling green and cost a whopping 50 Magic Essence.

Aemon looked through them one by one and scorned the first gray card.

It was an obvious scam. Who would spend twice as much to get half the original value?

Wasn't it afraid of being locked in a little dark room?

The panel also revealed something new.

The contents of the three revealed cards were not fixed.

At midnight each day, they would randomly change into new ones.

Their quality varied, and their prices were clearly different.

Ignoring William's endless lecturing, Aemon poked the second white card with one small finger.

Pop~~

The card shattered into bubbles, turning into a pale stream of light that entered his body.

He closed his eyes in anticipation. He only felt his whole body lighten, the soreness and numbness in his arms vanishing and being replaced by a sense of strength.

He bounced a few times. His one-foot-long little legs could now jump a foot and a half high.

Aemon was overjoyed. Strengthening my body—this was totally worth it.

He had originally wanted to test the effect of Physique +1 and make pulling grass easier while he was at it.

He had not expected such a noticeable improvement.

"If a Physique card refreshes every day, won't I become Superman?" Aemon's mind filled with fantasies.

In the world of ice and fire, personal prowess had always been an important measure of a person.

The number of truly skilled warriors in the world could be counted on one hand.

Give him ten years to grow up, and then...

"I don't eat beef!" Aemon suddenly blurted out.

"What? You want beef for lunch too?"

William was interrupted mid-sentence and nearly dropped his jaw.

In Westeros, where productivity was low, large livestock like cattle were extremely valuable.

Unless one died by accident or old age, even ordinary nobles rarely got a bite.

Aemon immediately came to his senses and arrogantly raised his chin. "I said I don't eat it. Are your ears broken?"

As if he did not know—William definitely wanted some himself.

And he wanted to use Aemon as an excuse.

Hmph, not a chance!

After resting for a while, they buried themselves in work again.

Aemon was full of drive, determined to save up more Magic Essence and exchange it for an indestructible body.

William could only follow along, bending over to search through the sea of grass for the scarce dark green blades.

After working for quite some time, he was dizzy with exhaustion and still had not found a single clump.

He straightened up while clutching his waist, baring his teeth in pain. "Prince, why doesn't he have to work with us?"

He secretly pointed toward a high slope not far away.

Aemon followed his finger and saw a two-meter-tall, burly man with messy black hair.

Gonsal sat boldly on the ground in a suit of Bronze Armor, leisurely admiring the scenery.

Seeming to notice the little dragon's gaze, he took a two-handed greatsword from his back.

It was his personal sword. His build did not allow him to use a bastard sword or a one-handed sword.

Those would look like toothpicks in his hands.

As Aemon watched, he began moving with a blank expression.

He took a lemon from his pocket and bit into it. The sourness struck his taste buds, making his already rough features even more ferocious.

He stretched out his neck and swallowed the pulp, then dipped the remaining half of the lemon into an open bag and methodically wiped down the greatsword.

The sharp-eyed little dragon saw it clearly: the lemon had been dipped in white salt.

This was one way to maintain a sword, and it cost even more than applying grease.

Because salt was expensive.

"Is he really strong?" Aemon stared in a daze.

You could race horses across those arms. He had to be terrifying in a fight.

One punch, one little squashed pumpkin.

"Of course. Gonsal is Runestone's Trainer."

William curled his lips jealously and urged, "He should be working too. He'd pull them up one after another for sure."

"You want to go ask him?" Aemon said lightly, exposing his scheme at once.

"Forget it, forget it."

William gave an awkward smile. How could he dare?

If he provoked Gonsal, his tiny body would get smacked around like a windmill.

The two continued searching for Sweetgrass, rummaging through the grass as they wandered about.

When a man would not go to the mountain, the mountain came to the man.

After finishing the greatsword's cleaning, Gonsal rose and came down the slope toward them. Even the goats blocking his way obediently moved aside.

William was nearly scared senseless, breaking out in a cold sweat.

"Do you need something?"

Aemon stepped forward on his short legs, planted his hands on his hips, and stood in front of his little brother.

That was right, his cousin was actually his little brother.

Even if it was Gonsal, he had to face him head-on without hesitation.

"I'm here to supervise you." Unexpectedly, Gonsal was not looking for trouble at all.

Gonsal lowered his head and stared at the little brat who was not even knee-high. "Lady Rhea also asked me to remind you not to keep rolling around in the grass. Spend more time preparing your royal etiquette."

"The next hunt will be held in the King's Wood, at the King's summons."

During the new book period, the standard is four thousand words per day.

Friends, please forgive me~~