The next morning greeted Ikenna with the sound of birds, the gentle babble of water, and the unmistakable snorting of Professor the mule, who had decided to nudge his sleeping face with a moist nose.
"Ugh, okay. I'm up," Ikenna muttered, pushing the mule's head away with one hand.
The field shimmered softly under the morning sun. The Spirit Rice had grown to his shin now, vibrant green leaves reaching for the light. It wasn't just growth—it was transformation. The soil smelled fresher. A few curious butterflies hovered above the sprouts. Life was returning.
Field Report:
Spirit Rice: 42% Growth
Soil Condition: Healthy
Energy Flow: Stable
New Visitor Detected.
Ikenna blinked. "Visitor?"
He stood and scanned the horizon.
There—at the crest of the hill—stood a young girl. Barefoot, skinny, maybe sixteen. She had thick braids coiled around her head and wore a patched dress with an oversized straw hat. Her hands held a wooden basket filled with weeds, roots, and something that looked suspiciously like wriggling mushrooms.
Her eyes locked with his.
Neither of them spoke for a long moment.
Finally, she called out, "You the crazy man who made the cursed land grow?"
"…Maybe," Ikenna said cautiously. "You one of the villagers?"
"I'm Amara," she said, stepping closer, basket swinging at her hip. "I forage the outer edges. That field's been dead for five years."
"I noticed."
Amara looked at the field again. "And yet here it is. Not dead."
"Thanks for the vote of confidence."
She shrugged. "They'll come ask about you soon. The elders. The herbalists. Maybe even old man Kadiri."
"And who's that?"
She grinned. "The grumpiest farmer in the village. His cabbage once got stolen by a bird and he blamed the wind."
Ikenna laughed. "Sounds like a delight."
"You got food?"
He blinked. "You mean, for you?"
"For both of us," she said, already sitting cross-legged near the field, pulling out two root tubers. "You seem like someone who forgets to eat."
"…You're not wrong."
He joined her, and together they roasted the roots over a small fire. They shared salt from her pouch—coarse, grayish stuff, sharp on the tongue but not unpleasant. For a while, they ate in silence.
Then Amara asked, "You from the west?"
Ikenna paused. "I'm… from somewhere else. Farther than west."
She didn't press. Instead, she eyed the scroll floating faintly near his shoulder.
"That thing yours?"
"Apparently."
"You a mage?"
"No."
"A priest?"
"Nope."
"Then what are you?"
Ikenna thought about that. Back home, he was a lecturer. A researcher. A man who walked around in cardigans and corrected people's grammar on WhatsApp.
Here?
"I guess I'm a farmer," he finally said.
She nodded, seemingly satisfied.
By midday, Amara had shown him how to weave spirit grass into water traps, pointed out edible mushrooms that glowed faintly blue, and even gave him a pouch of dried herbs she claimed would make stew taste less like "dirt boiled in hope."
When she left, she said simply, "You're not bad. For a bookworm."
"Thanks. I think."
She waved once and disappeared into the trees.
Quest Progress:
Befriended: 1 Spirit Creature
Befriended: 1 Human NPC (Amara – Trust Level: Low-Moderate)
New Blueprint Unlocked: "Basic Shelter (Straw & Mud Variant)"
Ikenna blinked at that last line. "Wait, she taught me enough to unlock a building?"
The system chimed.
Wisdom lies not in how much you know, but how well you listen, Host.
"Right. Cryptic and smug. Got it."
That evening, he began building his first shelter.
Amara had shown him the trick to binding straw with mud and wood: apply gentle pressure, let it sun-dry before adding another layer, and keep the base round to reduce stress.
As he worked, a soft rustle came from the brush.
Ikenna turned. The same young Spirit Hare from the other day stood at the edge of the field, nose twitching. It carried a small bundle in its mouth—wrapped leaves holding what looked like a glowing nut.
It hopped forward and dropped it near the rice field.
[Spirit Hare has offered a gift.]
Item Gained: Lumina Nut (Rare Fertilizer Ingredient)
Bond Level: +1
The hare chirruped once, then hopped off.
Ikenna stared at the offering, then looked at Professor.
"You seeing this?"
The mule blinked, then promptly walked into the half-finished hut and sat down like it belonged there.
Ikenna sighed. "Of course."
He stood by the rice field, Lumina Nut glowing in one hand, wind blowing softly through the stalks, and for the first time, a thought occurred to him—not as a joke, but as a truth.
He could build something here.
Something real.