Harvest Galore

Early the next morning.

Not long after Rhode and Serie left the village, an unexpected visitor arrived at Amuro's humble cabin.

"Old man, I came to say goodbye."

With a bundle at his feet and a battle axe strapped to his back, Som stood outside the door and spoke solemnly.

Amuro did not look up, focusing only on the red-hot metal in the forge before him as though he had not heard his son. This forced Som to repeat himself.

At last, Amuro stopped what he was doing and sat in his chair with his back to his son.

"Oh, I know. I understand. So in the end, you still didn't listen to me."

He had sensed something was wrong the moment his son woke up last night with that strange expression on his face.

He had thought that asking Serie to spar with him would make him recognize his own strength and give up on the idea of going out adventuring. Instead, it only helped him make up his mind.

In the end, he still could not stop him, just as no one had been able to stop him when he stood before his own father a century ago.

Only this time, their roles had changed. He had become the one standing in opposition, and only then could he understand how his father had felt.

"No, you wouldn't listen to my explanation."

Som had long wanted to go out adventuring. Whether or not he had sparred with Serie, he would have put that desire into action.

He wanted to prove through an adventure that he was a proud Dwarf warrior and make everyone in the village see him in a new light.

After saying that, Som picked up his bundle and turned to leave, though he did not forget to say, "Take care, old man."

Only after Som had completely left the house did Amuro turn around, a helpless smile on his face.

He did not speak to stop his son, just as his own father had not stopped him back then.

Meanwhile, Rhode and Serie had reached a narrow path. No one knew which race had carved it out, or perhaps it was simply as Brother Xun had said: there had been no roads in the world to begin with, but once enough people walked the same way, a road naturally appeared.

Looking at Rhode carrying such a huge pack, Serie could not help asking, "Why are you bringing so many things?"

When she and Rhode had adventured together before, they had carried very few items. She had not even brought anything herself, relying entirely on Rhode to feed her.

Back then, Rhode had carried a small bag with exquisite craftsmanship. Serie had never seen such a finely made bag before, and it was remarkably durable as well.

According to him, he had been adventuring for nearly a year, yet the little bag had only suffered slight wear and no major exterior damage.

But now, Rhode was carrying a bundle that had obviously been sewn by Dwarves, its appearance worlds apart from that little bag.

Anyone who knew Dwarven craftsmanship knew their usual standard: if it worked, that was enough. Like the bundle on Rhode's back, it was full of patched and stitched-together seams.

In Serie's words, it was ugly.

But for Rhode, as long as it worked, that was enough.

"Oh, nothing much. Just some blankets and cooking utensils. I didn't expect these Dwarves to be so handy."

Given Rhode's opinion of Dwarves, calling them handy was already high praise. After all, one could not expect the huge hands that forged armor and weapons to pick up embroidery needles and stitch delicate patterns.

Even so, Rhode was already very satisfied.

That was the advantage of encountering an advanced civilization: one could leap from a primitive society straight into modern times.

Rhode had been transported into this world during an outing.

At the time, he had only been carrying a small bag with some food inside, without even a useful tool at hand.

Fortunately, his phone had contained plenty of wilderness survival knowledge before he was transported. He had crammed as much as he could before the battery died, then discovered an inexplicable power within himself.

He had survived until now by relying on his awakened magic. As for his phone, it had long since become a useless brick after running out of power, lying quietly in his bag.

I should have brought a solar power bank.

"What do you want for dinner? How about mushroom soup?"

Rhode could hardly wait to cook himself a pot of mushroom soup and see how it tasted.

Before this, he had not been able to get a decent pot at all. He could only fill his stomach with grilled mushroom skewers, and even boiling water had been difficult. Most of the time, he had simply gambled and drunk untreated water.

Of course, he had been lucky sometimes. For example, when he found hollow plants like bamboo, he could cut off a section and use it as a small kettle. Add some tea-like leaves he had picked, and he had himself a lovely afternoon tea.

Thinking of that, Rhode could not help sighing. Amuro really was a decent man.

Not only had he given Rhode a whole pile of things, but when they left that morning, he had even pulled out a large handful of gold coins to give him. Rhode had refused them.

After all, not many creatures in this era recognized gold as currency. At the very least, Serie and the Elf race did not accept it.

Besides, the stuff was ridiculously heavy, and Rhode did not want to carry it around.

Times had changed. Before he was transported, if he had seen such a huge pile of gold in front of him, he would have hugged it and run a marathon.

Now, it had become a burden instead.

Still, just in case, Rhode had brought one coin. If he happened to meet someone who accepted the stuff, he could still trade with it.

"Fine."

Serie was not picky about Rhode's cooking, since everything he made tasted good.

"Don't you think carrying all that is heavy?"

"I can't help it. These are all necessities. Look, we have to bring blankets for sleeping, right? It gets so cold at night. We can't rely on a campfire for warmth all the time, can we?"

Serie opened her mouth. Though she wanted to argue, she had to admit that Rhode made sense.

Besides, having a blanket while sleeping really would be comfortable.

"Then what about these iron tools? They're too heavy. Wouldn't it be better to throw them away?"

"No way! As the ancients said, satisfying one's appetite is one of life's great pleasures. We can't live such miserable lives, eating our fill one day and going hungry the next."

"I can teach you the elves' Photosynthesis Magic. It can keep you from needing to eat for an entire month."

Rhode looked at her suspiciously. "You used that magic a lot before, didn't you?"

He strongly suspected that the Little Ancestor before him had used this magic often.

After all, he simply could not imagine her going out to forage or cooking for herself. The most likely possibility was that she cast Photosynthesis Magic on herself every now and then.

Serie fell silent, clearly confirming Rhode's suspicion.

Rhode sighed. "Serie, sometimes food is about more than just filling your stomach." He patted his bundle. "Tonight, I'll let you try some delicious food in a different style."

Serie tilted her head, her long golden hair fluttering in the wind. "Whatever you want."

She did not refuse. Clearly, Miss Serie was also looking forward to what delicious food this man would bring her that night.