Outside, the rain changed. It shimmered faintly under the moonlight — not ordinary rain, but something thicker, more vibrant. Each droplet left a faint trail of blue light as it sank into the soil.
By dawn, the farm glowed.
When Roland stepped outside, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he froze. The entire field seemed… alive. Leaves were broader, stalks thicker, roots pulsing faintly with light. The air smelled richer, sweeter.
"...What in the world?" he breathed, staring in awe.
His gaze drifted to the crow totem by the field's edge. It gleamed faintly, the carved feathers slick and radiant, as if freshly polished by unseen hands. Roland frowned, unsettled but too distracted by the crops to think much on it.
Brontus and Maphala approached from the barn, their horns still faintly glowing.
"That was mana rain," Brontus said, his deep voice calm and certain. "A rare blessing. The world breathes deeper when it falls."
Maphala nodded, her tone gentle. "It nourishes all living things — soil, plant, and beast alike. Even our horns drink it in."
Roland blinked, heart quickening. He used divine inspection to examine the nearest crops — thick-stemmed carrots, wide-leafed lettuce, plump tomatoes glistening with dew. He reached out, brushing a leaf and invoking Farmer's Insight.
[Carrot – High Quality]
Flavor Bonus: +50% Sweetness. Eating Bonus: Doubles stamina recovery for a day.
Every single crop was like that — stronger, richer, radiant with life.
He leaned back on his heels, awestruck. "The rain… boosted everything. Quality's doubled, and even the eating bonuses got stronger."
Brontus let out a satisfied rumble. "A good omen. Perhaps your farm is being watched kindly."
Roland smiled faintly, looking toward the sky where the clouds were breaking apart into pale morning light. "Maybe so," he murmured. "Maybe it's the land's way of saying… welcome home."
He breathed deep, feeling the world pulse faintly with mana and promise. He looked towards the sky and thanked the world and gods for their blessings.
Roland stood in the doorway for a long while, watching the dawn glint off waterlogged leaves. Everything shimmered with a faint, soft light — proof that last night's strange shower had been no ordinary rain.
When he finally bit into one of the fresh carrots, the taste nearly made him laugh aloud.
It was incredible.
Sweet, crisp, and earthy — like the flavor of pure sunlight and morning dew. The mana had done more than grow the crops; it had elevated them to something close to divine produce.
"Alright then," Roland grinned, rolling up his sleeves. "Let's make breakfast worthy of a miracle."
Before long, the kitchen filled with warmth and the comforting smell of sizzling vegetables. He mixed chopped potatoes and carrots into a thick skillet, added diced tomatoes, and sprinkled herbs with a practiced hand. When he finally ladled out steaming portions into wooden bowls, everyone was already gathered — drawn by the smell alone.
Maphala's eyes softened as she took her first bite. "By the goddess… this is divine, Roland."
Brontus let out a deep approving rumble between chews. "A farmer's meal worthy of a king."
Aeris bleated happily, tail twitching as she chewed on her portion, while Sol's tail wagged so hard it thumped rhythmically against the floorboards — thud-thud-thud! — like a drumbeat of pure joy. He barked once, twice, then three times, his eyes practically shining with excitement.
"Easy, boy! Don't break your tail off!" Roland laughed, reaching down to scratch behind his ears. Sol only barked louder, as if arguing that it would be worth it.
Breakfast was full of laughter and warmth — the kind that made the small house feel alive. Even the gentle creak of the rafters sounded content. When everyone had eaten their fill, Roland leaned back with a deep sigh, satisfied and full of energy.
After the meal, he went out with his harvesting basket — though he barely needed it. Using the Verdant Bracelet, he gathered the ripened vegetables one after another, storing them into his system's inventory with practiced ease. Every carrot, potato, and tomato shimmered with mana-rich color before vanishing into safe storage.
"Alright," he murmured. "Half for cooking, half for stock… and the rest for emergencies."
His expression softened with quiet determination. No one will go hungry if I can help it.
As the afternoon sun rose high, Roland slung his Magic Seed Bag over his shoulder and headed into the fields again. With a hum and a soft gesture, he scattered seeds across the fresh soil — ordinary and fantastical alike.
"Let's see how you do," he said, sprinkling Cucumber of Clarity seeds beside a patch of normal cucumbers. "And you… good old potatoes. Can't ever have too many of you."
Each planting motion was careful, almost reverent. He'd learned that patience was as sacred as sunlight to a farmer.
When the last row was covered, he stood at the field's edge, squinting thoughtfully.
"Hmm. Two more plots would fit nicely."
With a wave of his bracelet, the soil shifted — plowing and smoothing itself into perfect new beds. He planted fresh rows of tomatoes there, their bright green leaves already promising abundance.
Before heading in, Roland walked toward the riverbank. The water shimmered faintly with leftover mana from the rain, and Purifish darted playfully beneath the surface, nibbling at bits of soil that had washed in overnight.
"You little gourmets," Roland said with a laugh. "That dirt's your delicacy, huh?"
He knelt and dug a small hole thirty feet from the river's edge, pulling out a single Apple Seed — smooth, golden-brown, and faintly warm to the touch. He pressed it gently into the soil, covering it with care.
"Grow strong," he whispered. "I'll be here to see you bloom."
The breeze carried the scent of wet earth and the distant chatter of the river. As Roland straightened, brushing his hands off, a contented sigh escaped him.
He turned back toward the farm — his home — where the animals rested and the crops shimmered in the light. It was quiet, peaceful, alive. Everything here belonged.
That night, before resting, Roland opened his worn leather journal and began to write by lantern light:
> Mana rain… rare and miraculous. It strengthened everything — crops, soil, even the air feels different. The vegetables taste richer, purer, almost sacred. Everyone's happier than I've ever seen them — even Sol might wag his tail right off one day.
I planted new crops today — cucumbers, tomatoes, potatoes, and one apple tree by the river. Expansion feels good, but I can't forget why I do this: to feed people, not just myself. The farm isn't just mine — it's hope, stored in soil.
If this rain was a gift from the gods, then I'll honor it the only way I know how — by growing more, sharing more, and never letting this land go to waste.
He waited for the ink to dry thenhe gently placed the book down the ink still glistening in the lamplight.
Today was a good day he smiled to himself before heading to bed for a good night's sleep.