Morning light filtered through the trees, cutting soft golden lines across Arlen's half-finished walls. Birds chirped like tiny, annoying alarms overhead. His eyes opened slowly, and for once, he didn't feel the crushing weight of failure.
The pain in his muscles reminded him that he'd actually survived the night. The cuts on his arms, the stiffness in his back, the soreness in his hands—it all confirmed something simple and powerful.
He was still alive. And he was doing something. Building something.
He sat up with a groan, rubbed his eyes, and looked around. Gourd was snoring. Or at least, making some low grumbly noise that resembled snoring. Arlen didn't know if sentient pumpkins actually needed sleep, but he let the pumpkin have his peace.
He walked past the half-built barricades and glanced at his fields. His first real field. The crops stood proud despite the chaos from the night before. Dreamleaf. Sunroots. Even the Brightplum sapling was standing tall, its leaves trembling slightly in the wind.
Then he looked at the portal.
That steady, pulsing glow.
He hadn't stepped back inside the dimensional world since the day he'd planted his first seeds. The place had been overwhelming, full of wild terrain, strange energy, and a deep silence that felt… ancient. But today, something tugged at him. A quiet voice in his chest. A whisper from the Hoe of Vitality. Or maybe it was just the weight of curiosity finally winning over caution.
He packed up some food—basic dried root cakes and a slice of smoked meat he'd bartered from a traveling merchant a few days ago—and walked toward the portal.
"Hey," Gourd's voice called lazily. "You're heading in?"
"Just to check on the soil. Nothing long."
"Yeah, that's what all farmers say before they vanish for three days and come back with new gray hairs."
Arlen smiled faintly. "If I'm not back by sunset, don't eat my jerky."
"No promises."
The portal shimmered as he stepped through, swallowing him in a single heartbeat.
"....."
The dimensional world greeted him with a familiar chill. Not cold, exactly—but ancient. The kind of stillness you only feel in places untouched by time.
He stepped out into his private world.
Vast, unending land stretched in all directions. Hills, cliffs, crystal lakes, and thick forests twisted together in unnatural harmony. Everything looked real—but also slightly off. The colors were too rich. The sky had two suns. The wind made no sound, yet he felt it press against his skin.
His crops had grown here too.
He knelt by one of the Dreamleaf plants. It had sprouted taller than the ones outside. Healthier. The soil was rich. Absurdly so. Even weeds here looked strong enough to fight.
"This place…" he muttered. "It's cheating."
He wasn't wrong. But he also wasn't ready to live here. Not yet. He needed shelter. He needed defenses. He needed understanding.
He reached out to touch the soil and activated the Hoe of Vitality.
[Dimensional Soil Quality: Tier 3 - Magical Infusion Present]
[New Feature Unlocked: Dimensional Blueprint Storage]
[You may now save and build layouts within this dimension]
[Would you like to scan your current external base and save it here?]
His eyes widened.
He hit "Yes."
A soft blue light enveloped him for a moment.
[Structure Scan Complete. Base Blueprint Saved. Name: 'Forest Homestead v1']
This changed everything.
He could now build—here. And not from scratch. His camp outside could be mirrored, improved, and stored like data. It was a small step toward true kingdom-building. Not just survival, but design.
Still, something gnawed at him. A tension in his gut. He didn't want to lose touch with the outside world. With real dirt and danger and people. He wanted this place to be a tool, not a crutch.
But he'd use it. Definitely. He'd be stupid not to.
He spent the next hour harvesting samples of wild herbs, testing strange trees, and planting one new seed from his quest reward. It was labeled: "Mystery Vine (Unstable Variant)." That alone sounded like it could either kill him or make the best salad in the universe.
As he worked, he talked to himself. Not just for comfort, but to sort his thoughts.
"If I expand my farm here… I could triple crop yield. But if I stay too long, I lose grip on the outside world. Maybe I make this place my vault. The rare stuff. Dangerous stuff. Everything else stays outside where I can deal with threats and learn the terrain."
It sounded reasonable. It also sounded like something future Arlen would laugh at while sipping tea in a throne room.
He stared at the dimensional sky. The suns were starting to move apart, marking the passage of time.
Time to go.
He stepped back through the portal and returned to the outside world.
The contrast was immediate.
Birds. Real ones. Bugs buzzing. A breeze that smelled like dirt and pine and something burning—
"Wait. Burning?"
Smoke.
Arlen's heart dropped.
He ran.
Past the creek. Around the newly set traps. Toward his crops.
He skidded to a stop.
Half the Sunroots were smoldering. A chunk of his wall had collapsed.
And standing in the middle of it was a man in rough leathers, holding a still-burning torch and laughing.
"Guess the weakling farmer's home," the stranger sneered.
Arlen's hands clenched.
"Who the hell are you?"
"Just a message from your family. They want you to know you're not welcome back. And they don't want you building anything out here. You're supposed to disappear. Not grow crops."
The rage hit fast. Hard.
He didn't speak.
He just raised the Hoe of Vitality and walked forward.
The man sneered, reaching for his dagger.
Arlen moved fast—faster than he should've. The hoe caught the man's hand mid-swing, knocking the blade away. He twisted, jabbed the blunt end into the man's ribs, and then swept his legs out.
The man hit the dirt with a grunt.
Arlen stood over him, eyes hard.
"This is my land now. You've got one chance to crawl away before I start planting bodies."
The man stared up at him, shocked. Then spat. But he ran.
Arlen didn't chase. He just watched.
Gourd rolled up beside him, slow and grim.
"Trouble's coming," the pumpkin said.
"I know."
"You're gonna fight them?"
"No."
Gourd blinked. "What?"
"I'm going to outgrow them."
He turned to look at the burned crops. At the half-built home. At the world he was just starting to tame.
"I'll grow a farm so powerful, kingdoms will kneel just for a taste of my potatoes."
"…that's a weird threat."
"I know."
He smiled.
But this time, it wasn't a tired smile. It was sharp. Focused.
This wasn't just about surviving anymore.
It was about building something they couldn't take from him.
Not now. Not ever.