Innate Farming Saint Body

Chapter 34: Born to Farm

Brook now felt a complete awakening of his bloodline.

He had a strong urge to plant anyone who dared stop him from farming into the ground.

Every spare moment, he dove straight into the ring to tend to his vegetables and fruit trees.

Watering, fertilizing—he never tired of it.

Watching them grow bit by bit.

Even weeding, a task he could easily finish with a single command to the Shanhe Sheji Map, he now preferred to swing a hoe himself, savoring the most primal form of labor.

He was busy as could be every day.

"Brook, there's a Halloween Feast soon. Don't go busy yourself at the farm."

Brook quickly shook his head. "No can do. The peaches are ripe. I have to pick them in the next few days, or they'll rot."

Hermione sighed helplessly. "You can't just skip the feast, can you?"

Brook was now obsessed with the farm to the point of madness. As long as there were no classes, he'd definitely go tend to his crops.

It was utterly speechless.

"It's not as good as hotpot anyway. I'll just eat at the farm," Brook replied nonchalantly.

"No, Brook, you can't keep this up. You're going crazy. You have to come tonight."

Hermione's voice rose, her tone firm.

Not studying properly, always thinking about farming—it was too irresponsible.

She absolutely wouldn't let Brook sink like this.

Brook looked at Hermione's serious expression, even seeing her bare her teeth.

He had no choice but to compromise. "Fine, you go first. I'll come over in a bit."

Hermione: ε=(´ο｀*))) Ahh~

"One hour. At most one hour. You have to come, or don't expect me to talk to you again."

She held up one finger, her tone stern.

"That's a bit short." Brook was about to haggle, but seeing Hermione's glare, he changed his tune.

"Fine, one hour. I'll definitely be there."

Hermione nodded in satisfaction.

She picked up the basket of big, juicy peaches. "Hurry up."

Brook wasted no time. He vanished on the spot, entering the ring.

Continuing his busy yet joyful life as a farmer.

Though Hermione said she wouldn't talk to him, it was just a scare.

That little girl definitely couldn't follow through—a little coaxing would fix it.

But Brook wasn't in the habit of lying to her.

As the feast approached, Hermione carried a basket of washed peaches into the hall decorated for Halloween.

Thousands of "Snapes" flew across the walls and ceiling.

Another thousand hovered like storm clouds above the dining tables.

Huge pumpkins were hollowed out, candle flames flickering inside.

The dishes appeared on golden plates, just like at the start-of-term feast.

Hermione handed out peaches to those around her, chewing her food without tasting it.

Just then, Professor Quirrell burst into the hall, his face full of terror.

"Troll... troll in the dungeons..."

Before he could finish, he collapsed to the floor, unconscious.

The hall erupted into chaos. Students screamed and shouted in panic.

Dumbledore had to fire sparks from his wand. With a sharp bang, everyone gradually quieted down.

"Prefects, lead the students back to the dormitories."

Percy immediately puffed out his chest and shouted, "Follow me! If you listen to me, there's nothing to fear..."

Hermione had no mind for Percy's commands. Her thoughts were all on Brook.

Brook hadn't come to the feast yet. Was he still at the farm, or on his way?

What if he ran into the troll?

It was all her fault. If only she hadn't insisted he come to the feast.

If anything happened to Brook, she'd blame herself forever.

So, taking advantage of the chaos in the crowd, she quietly slipped away from the group and headed toward the side corridor.

Hermione didn't know where Brook was.

But going to that empty classroom on the first floor where Brook had entered the ring was definitely the right call.

"Ron, look at Hermione." Harry tugged Ron's sleeve and whispered.

Ron looked equally confused. "Where's she going?"

"Brook didn't show up. Hermione's probably going to tell him," Harry guessed.

"The Troll's still wandering around—that's so dangerous!" Ron's tone carried a hint of worry.

"No, we have to follow. If we run into it, we can help," Harry said firmly.

"Well..." Ron hesitated.

They weren't exactly close with Hermione.

"Brook helped us before," Harry reminded him.

Ron thought of those 75 Gold Galleons and gritted his teeth. "Fine."

Meanwhile, Brook emerged from the ring with a face full of joy.

Pressure brings out the best in people.

That saying was spot on.

If he'd worked at his usual pace, he wouldn't have finished in an hour—or even after a whole night of effort.

But to keep his one-hour promise with Hermione, he'd mastered the Accio spell he'd always been shaky with, using it like a pro.

His progress could only be described as rocket-fast.

The Levitation Charm made the ripe peaches leave the branches, and Accio precisely collected them into the crate.

It was practically perfect.

He felt like he'd found his motivation for learning magic—

making life more convenient.

The moment Brook came out, the smile on his face vanished.

He quickly reached up and covered his nose.

"Why does it stink so bad???"

His nose was several times more sensitive than an ordinary person's, almost like a dog's.

The thick, foul stench hit him like a sharp dagger straight to his skull.

It smelled like a thousand dung bombs had exploded right next to him.

He hurriedly pointed his wand at his head.

"CircumProtego!"

A lopsided, semi-transparent glass dome appeared over his head.

It was his still-rough Bubblehead Charm.

Since Defense Against the Dark Arts class was always filled with the smell of garlic, Brook had refused to attend, claiming he couldn't stand it.

So Hermione had found him the Bubblehead Charm.

Even if it looked ugly, it was enough to block out the stench.

Brook pushed open the classroom door and saw a figure over three meters tall blocking the entrance.

At first, he thought it was Hagrid and was about to greet him, but when he looked closer through the blurry glass dome, he froze.

The creature in front of him had skin of an eerie gray, with a body so out of proportion.

Its legs, less than half a meter long, were thick as tree trunks, supporting its massive frame.

In its hand, it clutched a thick wooden club.

How did a Troll get into Hogwarts?

His sudden appearance seemed to stump the Troll's tiny brain, no bigger than a tennis ball, for a moment.

Man and monster stood there, staring each other down.

Brook's eyes were bigger.

"Roar!" The Troll finally snapped out of it, letting out a deafening bellow as it raised its club and swung it viciously at Brook.

Brook wasn't flustered at all. He was about to duck into the ring when he suddenly heard Hermione's scream.

"Ah!"

Harry and Ron grabbed the scattered stones from the floor and hurled them hard at the Troll.

"Hey, you big idiot! Look over here." Ron shouted loudly, trying to draw the Troll's attention.

Harry was also banging a metal pipe he'd picked up against the floor, making a harsh clatter.

Hermione yelled toward Brook, "Brook, find your chance and run the other way."

(Do any readers remember the empty classroom George took Brook to in Chapter 24?

It's on the first floor—the Troll in the original story also appeared in the girls' bathroom on the first floor! o(≧v≦)o~~)

(Anti-Quibbler: In the original, the Troll's head was described as the size of a cocoa bean.

Cocoa beans are too small, so Little Author swapped it for a tennis ball.)