Three Months

Sol thought he really was too kind, worrying about whether his dependents lived or died.

That old fellow Bahamut really ought to move his backside off the throne of the foremost good dragon and make room for Sol.

But he could only turn those words over in his mind. He would never dare say them aloud.

Who knew what powers the gods of this world possessed? If one happened to sense him speaking their name, and they happened to be narrow-minded, he would be in for a world of suffering.

After planting the corn kernels, Sol set about teaching the Boarfolk to make simple fishing tools and set trigger-activated snare traps.

The tasks weren't difficult. Even with only seven intelligence, they could get the hang of them after a few tries.

One would think a race like theirs, which had long made its living in the wild, should have mastered these skills ages ago.

But that wasn't the case. The traps might look simple, but there was plenty to them: a certain knowledge of mechanics, the skills to process materials, and abstract thinking beyond the demands of mere survival. None could be left out.

The Boarfolk clearly lacked those things. Even the primitive humans of Sol's previous life, whose intelligence wasn't particularly low, had never developed complex traps either.

Dragon dung lived up to its reputation as a super fertilizer. After about a week, the planted corn sprouted, and from then on it grew vigorously, looking almost different each day.

The stalks rapidly shot up and unfurled leaves. After roughly 60 days, sorghum-like tassels emerged from their tops, followed by small ears of corn pushing out where the leaves met the stalks.

About 30 days later, the corn gradually ripened. From a distance, the crisscrossing stalks were covered in plump little ears.

By then, Sol had grown to 15 feet long. He broke a ripe ear off a stalk taller than himself, tore away its yellowing husk, and tossed it into his mouth, chewing in great bites.

This Kiko Corn was much smaller than the ordinary corn he had seen in his previous life, only about the size of a palm, and it looked somewhat like ornamental corn.

But it was very sweet and had a good starch content. Even the cob was as crisp and sweet as fruit. If it were sold in human lands, it would surely sell well.

Feeding it to the Boarfolk was an outrageous waste. How could these boars appreciate fine food?

But they were his only dependents at the moment, and red dragons happened to be pure carnivores, so he could only let them have it.

After swallowing the corn in his mouth, Sol scanned the field before him and roughly estimated that it would yield around 2,000 jin of kernels.

Each Boarfolk would get less than 100 jin. It didn't seem like much, but the kernels could be stored for a long time, and if they ate sparingly, it would be enough to last through the next winter.

Should I draw some other crops next?

Damn it! I'm a red dragon, a fierce, brutal, and powerful red dragon. How did I end up as a farm owner?

Now he finally understood why the vast majority of evil dragons rarely took dependents before reaching the young adult stage.

It was entirely because they weren't strong enough. The dependents they could subdue were so weak that they were no help at all.

If he hadn't needed to obtain Mental Power Essence from these Boarfolk, Sol might already have thought of abandoning them.

Compared with Sol's irritation, however, the Boarfolk had been living quite happily lately.

Under Sol's instruction, their hunts had become much more successful. And thanks to the three wyrmlings, there were far fewer dangerous predators nearby, making the area much safer.

With the corn about to ripen on top of that, these were the most comfortable days they had known since birth.

Freed from the pressures of survival, their desire to reproduce had surfaced. Quite a few female Boarfolk had become pregnant, and before long, a large batch of young Boarfolk would likely be born.

Although the Mental Power Essence provided by a hundred Boarfolk in the course of daily life only equaled that of one wyrmling, it was still a considerable increase for Sol, whose main source of income currently came almost entirely from Xisitana and Kalpu.

But as things stood, the Boarfolk probably wouldn't be able to feed so many young.

Creatures in the wilderness had a pitifully low survival rate to begin with. Even young true dragons had a survival rate of no more than 50 percent, to say nothing of these Boarfolk, who weren't very intelligent and had no special abilities.

When it came to survival, they might not even measure up to real wild boars.

After all, wild boars ran on four legs and were larger, giving them an advantage in the wild.

With no other choice, Sol went ahead and made another ten-pull. His Mental Power Essence balance, which had only just risen above 30 points, dropped in an instant.

As neon-like light flared, the outermost wheel began to turn with a rumble. Once it stopped, a flood of notifications appeared before him.

"Congratulations! You have obtained [Battered Shield] [Might Seed] [Rathalos Whisky] [Bomberry] [Machalite Ore]... Withdraw immediately? Yes/No."

He clicked withdraw, and with a flash of shimmering light, all the items appeared before Sol. One glance was enough to tell him that the vast majority were useless junk.

The only things that interested him were probably the Machalite Ore, Rathalos Whisky, and Might Seed.

Machalite Ore was a pale blue ore, a widely used material in the world of Monster Hunter. Its hardness and toughness far exceeded those of steel.

The Might Seed was a plump seed shaped like a clove of garlic. It was bright orange-red, with golden energy patterns on its surface.

It could be eaten directly to increase a creature's strength for a short time, and was also an ingredient for making other advanced potions.

As for the Rathalos Whisky, it was a bottle of highly concentrated liquor.

Sol flicked his tail, sweeping all the useless junk out of the cave. Then he looked below the notification and, sure enough, another guaranteed reward had appeared.

Another point of Mental Power Essence was consumed, and this time, what he wanted finally appeared.

"Congratulations! You have obtained [Large Sack of Potatoes]. Withdraw immediately? Yes/No."

Now this was good stuff! Potatoes were easy to grow, produced high yields, and were rich in the nutrients the human body needed. When necessary, they could even serve as a person's sole staple food.

With a flash of shimmering light, a burlap sack half the height of a person appeared before Sol. He untied it and looked at the large, plump potatoes inside, then tied it shut again.

Summer had only just begun, so it was the perfect time to plant them. They could be harvested before the young Boarfolk were born.

"Another 11 points of essence gone. How many Dragonvein Crystals could I have traded those for? I just hope spending it on them brings me a greater return."

Sol picked up the Rathalos Whisky beside him, feeling the loss. The glass bottle was nearly 40 centimeters tall and bore a picture of a Rathalos soaring with its wings spread.

He bit the cork off the bottle, held it in his jaws, and tipped his head back. A torrent of liquor gurgled down his throat, and he drained it in one go.

The next second, his stomach felt as though a fire were burning inside it. The blood throughout his body began to circulate faster, and a tipsy sensation rushed straight to the top of his head.

"Hic! It really lives up to the name Rathalos Whisky. That's got a kick!"