On the last day, Sylutia let Comia and Karen do as they pleased instead of following her around.
"I'm planning to take a walk around the edge of the village today and ask the local farmers about their farming experience."
"Are we not picking mushrooms again today?"
"We've already covered the nearby forest. It wouldn't be safe to go any deeper." The girl shook her head slightly. She wasn't afraid to go alone, but Comia and Karen were another matter.
"All right." Comia supposed that made sense.
"Then Karen and I will go fishing." She quickly perked up again.
After saying goodbye to the two, Sylutia left with a small basket. Inside were her books and notes, some bread for lunch, and a small bottle of water.
Just as she'd told Comia, she first asked the local villagers about their farming, then crouched down and used her fingers to examine the local soil.
She remembered that on the day she'd first arrived at Luan Tree Village, Teacher Heide had said that the wheat yield here was a little over sixty jin per mu. In other words, sowing six jin of wheat seed produced sixty jin of wheat.
Compared with the rest of the Regas Kingdom, that was already a very good yield. She'd heard that in some barren regions, sowing six jin of wheat seed produced only a little over twenty jin of wheat.
When she'd first heard those figures, Sylutia had found them hard to believe. In her memory, didn't wheat easily yield several hundred jin per mu? Hadn't there even been cases of yields reaching a thousand jin per mu?
Only after talking with and asking the local villagers about it did she gradually understand the situation.
They didn't use fertilizer, had to let their fields lie fallow in rotation, and didn't irrigate enough. Their crop varieties were poor, too, and pests and diseases took their toll. All these factors directly contributed to the low yields.
It seemed there was still a long way to go before food production could be improved. After briefly sorting through her thoughts, she figured the villagers would need to learn to fertilize and get used to it, build irrigation channels, use better seeds, and control pests and diseases, among other things, before the current situation could be completely changed.
None of that could be done in a day or two. For now, all she could do was make a note of it and try when she had the time and resources in the future.
After satisfying her curiosity and learning what she could, Sylutia carried her basket to the woods not far from the edge of the village.
The sun was bright today, and the grass was dry and pleasant. She set down her basket, picked up a stick, and practiced the swordsmanship she hadn't worked on in some time.
She started with Basic Swordsmanship. Recalling what she'd seen at the competition some time ago, as well as her own review and conclusions, she found that certain details in her movements had become more complete and fluid, bringing her strength and technique into a curious balance.
("Basic Swordsmanship" proficiency +2, Basic Swordsmanship Lv.4, progress 856/1200)
Her swordsmanship was gradually reaching a bottleneck. She'd only managed to make some progress after watching the competition a while back; otherwise, it would have been difficult to improve through training alone.
Should I take a walk in the forest? she thought, looking at the stick in her hand before shaking her head.
She'd need to bring a proper weapon, at the very least. She wondered if there was still time to go back and get her sword. Just as Sylutia packed up and prepared to head back, the faint rustle of leaves from the distant woods made her look up. She blinked, then quickly spotted a boy leaning on a tree as he walked in the distance on the hillside.
It was Mick. She recognized the boy with the somewhat fierce-looking eyes.
He seemed to be injured, and one of his legs wasn't working properly.
After considering it for a moment, Sylutia carried her basket over to him.
Huffing and puffing, Mick took another breath and looked at the village at the foot of the distant mountain. The discomfort eased a little.
Almost there, he repeated to himself, then struggled to move his painfully aching left foot again.
Most of the students hadn't gone up the mountain today, but he had. He wanted to find more game so he could save up and pay Jero back.
Since he'd started studying under Scholar Heide, he'd had almost no income. He'd nearly run through the money he'd saved, too. If Jero hadn't helped him out, he probably would have had to quit studying long ago.
Sorry, Jero. I didn't place in the competition.
If he'd placed in the last competition, he would have won a prize from the viscount. A piece of equipment like that could sell for a gold coin on the market, which would have been enough to pay Jero back all at once.
Money mattered. It mattered a lot, especially to the poor and ordinary folk.
Often, when people got injured or sick, it wasn't that they couldn't be cured. They simply couldn't afford medicine or a healer. Or they got sick because they had no money and had to eat spoiled, low-quality food.
He wanted to become a powerful adventurer. That was how he could earn a lot of money.
Being an adventurer really was a wonderful profession. In a single month, you could earn what an ordinary job paid in half a year, or even a whole year. Mick had always wanted to become a skilled adventurer like Jero.
However, compared to those seasoned adventurers, Mick was still far too green. His successful hunts over the past two days had given him quite a bit of confidence, but he hadn't expected an accident to happen today.
While chasing a fox, he'd stepped into empty space and slid down the mountainside. Although he'd reacted quickly and adjusted his posture, he'd still planted one foot in a crevice between rocks hidden beneath fallen leaves. The force of his weight had wrenched his left foot, and it might even have been broken.
The mountains weren't all that safe. If someone couldn't save themselves, they might never make it out.
Gripping a moss-covered tree trunk, he struggled to lift his right foot and take another step, dragging his painful left foot along. Beads of sweat rolled down his face, and the tree bark left tiny cuts on his palm.
One step, then another. The village chief's home was almost there. He kept trying to encourage himself.
Maybe he was completely exhausted, or maybe his vision was blurred. He didn't notice the stone on the ground and knocked his right foot against it, tumbling down again. His arm hit the jagged edge of a rock, leaving a stinging wound.
At least my head's fine. He lay on the ground, panting for a moment, then forced himself upright again and slowly started walking.
Mick tried not to think about how long it would take to arrive. The only thought keeping him moving was that he had to reach the village.
At last, with sweat blurring his forehead and cheeks, he saw a black-haired girl in a black dress standing before him.
Who is that...? His mind was already growing hazy.
Sylutia looked at the boy lying in front of her and bent down worriedly to examine him.
He seemed to be suffering from heatstroke, and his foot was injured as well.
Even in autumn, Rising Wind Season was still as hot as midsummer. The rain a few days ago had made things bearable, but it had heated up again over the past two days. Recalling the local climate, Sylutia took the small bottle of water out of her basket.
The water was in a ceramic bottle that Karen had prepared that morning. She hadn't drunk any of it yet. Sylutia uncorked it, poured some water into the mouth of the boy who'd passed out on the ground, then dragged him over to the shade of a tree and settled him there.
A little over ten minutes later, Mick slowly came to. Only then did his awareness gradually return.
He looked around, then glanced toward the girl sitting in the shade of a tree nearby, reading. At last, he realized he'd passed out.
"Thank you." His voice was weak.
"It's nothing, but you're not in good shape." Sylutia walked over and held her hand near the boy's forehead again.
His skin was warm and feverish. She couldn't tell if he had a fever or if his body was still overheated from the heatstroke.
They said that during Rising Wind Season, prolonged exposure to the blazing sun could easily raise your body temperature due to the influence of the Blazing Sun Aspect Power. If it wouldn't come down, you might eventually die of a fever.
But this was the ninth year of Rising Wind Season. The Blazing Sun Aspect Power was weakening, and the worst of its peak season was already over.
Sylutia blinked and checked the boy's condition again.
Name: Mick Race: Human (Mortal Body) Status: Healthy (Injured, Fracture, Heatstroke) Talent: Vital Blood [Good Grade]: The pulse rhythm of his blood is active, making it easier to sense and practice abilities related to the "Blood Law" Fate Card: [Mountain Youth] (Rank: None) 'A child of the mountains, nimble of hand and foot, and full of wildness' Ability Cards: [Breathing Technique Lv.2] [Empty Slot] [Empty Slot] Skills: [Basic Swordsmanship Lv.3] [Wilderness Survival Lv.1] ----
Thankfully, he didn't have a fever from an illness. It was only heatstroke. Sylutia lowered her hand.
Feeling the cool, soft hand against his forehead, and the faint floral scent coming from the girl, Mick was momentarily stunned. For the first time, his mind and body were absorbed by something other than hunting, earning money, or training.
Watching the girl rise and walk away, he even felt a brief sense of regret and reluctance. If he were a little more seriously ill, would she stay by his side a little longer?
His last bit of reason quickly rejected the strange thought, but he was still surprised by how vulnerable and smitten he felt.
He'd never felt this way even around that striking blonde heiress from among the students. Could people really become more emotionally fragile after getting hurt? His head, already hot from the heatstroke, felt a little dizzy.
"I can't carry you by myself. Can you wait here for a while?" Sylutia's gentle voice struck deep within him once more.
"I... I'm fine..." The last vestige of his masculine pride made him feel he shouldn't show weakness in front of this girl.
"Then wait here a little while. I checked the area around here, and there aren't any animals nearby. I'll go get help right away." Sylutia bent down to reassure him again, then straightened up and ran in small, quick steps toward the foot of the mountain.
His vision blurred. He watched her walk down the hillside until she disappeared from view and he could no longer see her. At last, his exhausted eyelids could no longer stay open, and he fell asleep.
Half an hour later, Solin and the others followed Sylutia's directions up the mountain and found Mick unconscious. They each took hold of a leg or an arm and lifted him up.
The jolting and swaying along the way made Mick open his eyes again. When the people around him saw that he was awake, they teased him.
"Heh, you were lucky. If Tia hadn't found you, we might not have come looking for you until nightfall."
"You got into trouble because you went out alone, didn't you?"
"Lone wolves don't cut it, idiot."
"I..." Mick wanted to explain himself, but he didn't have much strength at the moment.
He looked up at the deep blue sky, his body swaying like a little boat with nowhere to land. He was exhausted, and under normal circumstances, he should have felt miserable. But the teasing voices around him and the arms carrying him gave him a faint sense of relief and gratitude.
Maybe things aren't so bad after all.
Before you continue