The next morning, the sun barely crested the hills when Roland led Pine out into the fields. The dew sparkled on young sprouts, the scent of earth and herbs thick in the cool air.
"Pine," Roland began, kneeling beside a small patch of sprouted roots, "today I want to show you something important about Farmer's Rain." He drew a small circle in the dirt. "It's not just water. When you cast it, the water can absorb ambient mana from the air. That way, the soil gets nourishing mana without you draining your own energy."
Pine's eyes widened. "So the water pulls in the magic around us?"
"Exactly," Roland said, letting a thin stream of sparkling water drip from his hand. The droplets floated for a moment, catching faint green sparks, before landing on the soil and seeping into the roots. "See? The plants drink, and the mana goes with it. The more aware you are of the energy in the air, the more efficient the rain becomes."
He handed Pine a small watering gourd. "Try it."
The boy took a deep breath, focusing on the rhythm of the soil, the wind, and the faint glimmer of magic above the fields. Slowly, droplets of mana-infused water shimmered as they fell. Pine's smile was bright. "It… it works! I feel it going into the soil!"
"Good," Roland encouraged, clapping him lightly on the shoulder. "Now remember, learning doesn't stop here. Anyone who wants to learn this technique should be taught. Don't let the knowledge fade. It's not just for today — it's for tomorrow, and the day after that. For your village, and the world you'll tend one day."
Pine nodded eagerly. "I'll teach others!"
Roland stood, looking out across the field. "That's right. And to make sure nothing is lost, we'll write it all down. Step by step — what we learn about the soil, about planting, about Farmer's Rain, about crop rotation, and how to care for the trees. If something ever happens to me, or if the village faces hardship again, these books will give hope. Maybe someone new will rise — a Greenbud, like the legends of the old Greenbound farmers."
Pine's eyes sparkled with awe. "A Greenbud… like a new farmer that can bring life to the land?"
"Exactly," Roland said, smiling. "And one day, it might even be you."
For the rest of the morning, Roland guided Pine through the fields. He practiced controlled bursts of Farmer's Rain, first small, then gradually stronger, always mindful of the ambient mana. Roland corrected Pine's form gently, praised his concentration, and showed him how to let the land guide him, instead of forcing results.
Meanwhile, Verdalis' faint glow brushed over the seedlings, subtly enhancing the growth, and Brontus patrolled the edges of the field, watching over them with steady golden eyes.
By the afternoon, the boy was drenched in sweat but grinning, his confidence blooming like the young crops around him. Roland leaned on his shovel, satisfied.
"You've got the basics," he said. "Keep practicing every day. And write down everything you learn. Draw diagrams, note the timing, record what works and what doesn't. One day, these books will help a village full of future farmers — maybe even a Greenbud who will bring the land back to life again."
Willow, watching from the edge of the field, stepped forward. "Thank you, Roland. For teaching Pine… and for thinking of our future."
Roland shook his head. "No thanks needed. If this knowledge dies with us, then everything we do today is lost. We make it last so everyone can grow stronger."
Pine ran to help gather the first sprouting vegetables, already talking excitedly about showing his friends the new techniques. Roland smiled, looking out over the fields — a quiet promise in his chest: the legacy of a divine farmer, passed down through care, guidance, and careful writing, would not be lost.
Over the next several days, the village square was alive with the quiet hum of progress. Roland had set up a small writing area under the shade of a sturdy tree, parchment and quills at the ready, while Pine eagerly copied every lesson into the growing book of knowledge.
"Pine, let's add a section about different farming techniques," Roland said, spreading a fresh sheet of parchment. "It's important to record not just how to farm, but why each method works."
Pine's hand moved quickly, copying as Roland explained.
"Basic processes first," Roland said. "Land preparation, planting, irrigation, and harvesting. Those are the foundations. Then, modern methods—things like precision farming and vertical farming. They make the most of space and resources."
Pine nodded, writing furiously.
"Next, sustainable practices. Crop rotation, cover cropping, reduced tillage, and integrated pest management. They keep the soil healthy, prevent disease, and help plants grow stronger."
"Crop rotation…" Pine murmured. "Like we practiced already?"
"Exactly. Ancient techniques, too," Roland continued. "Mixed cropping—planting multiple crops together—and pastoralism, where animals and plants are cultivated together in harmony."
He leaned closer, pointing to a small diagram. "Advanced methods exist as well: hydroponics, aquaponics—growing crops without soil, letting water and nutrients do the work. These are useful when land is limited or depleted."
Pine's eyes widened. "Magic can help with that too, right?"
Roland smiled. "Yes. Magic allows us to adjust environments. Some plants need more light, others more humidity. With careful mana infusion, you can simulate those conditions. But the principles remain the same—you still need care, planning, and observation."
As they worked, only one other child showed interest in learning — a shy, curious boy named Rowan, who had been watching Pine intently. Pine eagerly took him under his wing, showing him the basics while Roland watched from a distance, proud of how the boy absorbed the lessons.
Meanwhile, Roland had gathered a variety of seeds and tubers from his inventory—ordinary mortal crops enhanced with his subtle magic to help them take root quickly. He handed them to the villagers.
"Plant these in pots first," he instructed. "Label each one. Track how they grow. This way, you'll have food, but also knowledge of what each plant needs."
Willow and the village elder followed his instructions carefully, putting seeds into pots and naming them meticulously. Hawthorn, Lunara, Lavender, Ash, Juniper, and the rest of the villagers helped with spacing, sunlight, and watering. Over time, the pots filled the village square, a small, orderly garden of promise.
By evening, the sun had dipped low, casting long shadows over the fields. The village felt alive again—quietly, steadily, and with hope.
Roland looked over the scene, satisfaction in his chest. He knew it was time to move on.
"Tomorrow, I'll leave," he told Pine, Willow, and the elder. "I'll take Sol and Brontus with me. The land here is on the mend, and Pine has learned enough to guide any who want to continue."
Pine's shoulders tensed. "But… will you come back?"
Roland smiled, crouching to meet his eyes. "I may return someday, but for now, it's your turn to help the village grow. Teach anyone who wants to learn, write it all down, and make sure the knowledge doesn't vanish. That's more important than anything I can do from outside."
Rowan, standing quietly beside Pine, looked up with wide eyes. "I'll learn. I promise."
Roland patted the boy on the shoulder. "Good. That's all I need to hear."
The firelight flickered across the village as the villagers prepared for night. The great pots still simmered softly, the seeds in their labeled pots waiting patiently. And Roland, with Sol and Brontus at his side, felt the quiet satisfaction of knowing that even in this small village, life and hope would grow.
By dawn, he would leave. But the knowledge, the practice, and the seeds he had shared would stay behind, ready to blossom in the hands of those who cared.