Lying on the ground, Zion Chen felt a sense of comfort spread through his limbs, as if he were being wrapped in warm blankets on a cold winter night.
"This feels... so good."
Closing his eyes, he began to assess his body's condition. The aches, the crushing fatigue from an afternoon and evening of tilling the earth... it all gradually faded away. However, even after he had recovered, the sensation didn't stop, lingering for another full minute.
When the feeling finally subsided, he pushed himself up from the ground and looked at his hands. Before, they were torn and bleeding; now, they were completely healed.
"This is incredible!" He opened and closed his fists, scarcely believing what was happening. He noticed a fraction more strength in his grip. The tremor in his arms was less. It was an infinitesimal difference, but to someone with his sensitivity, he could feel the change.
'Could it be...?'
Looking down at his right leg, he began to walk. Even with his limp, Zion felt his walking speed had improved. He tried to run. He found that, though he still limped, his right leg could keep pace without buckling like it used to.
He stopped running and approached the small square of tilled earth. Crouching down, the first thing he noticed was the change in the soil's color. What was once black as coal was now a strangely vibrant, deep brown.
He scooped up a handful. It was soft, with a bit of moisture, completely different from the rocky hardness of before.
"This is strange." He tossed the dirt back and stood up, puzzled. It wasn't just the changes to the soil and his body that were strange. He felt an uncanny closeness to this land, as comfortable as if he had been born here.
"Could this be the 'artifact' the old documents spoke of? It's the only thing that could explain this connection I feel."
Looking toward the cabin, he sensed an invisible connection between himself and everything on the farm, as if a small, intangible thread linked everything to his body—or more precisely, to his soul.
Zion Chen was not ignorant of the world. He had seen it all and had even dealt with the supernatural side of it that had always existed.
"This is fantastic news! Hahaha!" He began to laugh to himself, overjoyed to have stumbled upon something so miraculous. He immediately grabbed the pouch of seeds he'd brought from the barn and planted them in the small square.
"This spacing should be enough. If what I'm feeling is real, they'll grow larger than normal." He smiled as he looked at his first crops. He made three rows and planted five seeds in each, with equal spacing between the rows and the seeds.
The connection between him and the farm was abstract, but as he planted, he felt a profound joy, an absolute certainty that everything would grow in the best way possible—perhaps even better than expected. This certainty seemed to stem from the connection between his soul and the farm.
"I never expected to find something like this, especially not now... Maybe... maybe I can actually recover?" A look of longing appeared in his eyes. For someone as skilled as he had been, to be in this state was beyond lamentable. To live with limited movement and constant pain was not a life anyone would desire.
'But what is this thing I've found? The whole farm is an artifact? That would be surreal.' In all the records he had studied, artifacts were from an ancient era when the supernatural was commonplace. But even then, they were not easily found. Only a 'Supreme Master' was capable of possessing one, and a few of those had left their mark on the planet's history.
'I have to investigate this more. The Directory didn't have much information on artifacts themselves, only that specific legends were confirmed: King Arthur's sword, used to rule; the Nine Cauldrons of Yu, used to grant prosperity; and the Grimoire of Solomon, which invokes demons. Those were the only artifacts confirmed by humanity to have truly existed, but they all vanished at some point in history.' As he recalled the confirmed historical artifacts, he grew even more intrigued.
'If those artifacts made history, why has something of this size never been noticed? This is serious. I have to be careful. If someone powerful finds out about this, I'm screwed.'
Remembering the recent changes in the world, Zion Chen's expression shifted. Strange organizations had begun to emerge, not publicly, but governments and existing organizations were already aware of this potential new threat.
'If I do recover, I have to be careful not to end up like this again.' He gripped his right leg, recalling the incident that had left him this way.
He shook his head, forcing the thought away.
'It doesn't matter what it is. It matters what it does. And now that it's done, all I can do is wait.' Looking up at the full moon shining in the sky, he grabbed the axe from the pantry and headed for the barn. He began organizing things—a shovel, ropes, nails, glue, and various other items—into a giant camping backpack.
'I'll fortify my perimeter. I can't leave myself this exposed.' At the thought, his eyes turned serious and cold. He slipped out into the forest in the dead of night, axe in hand.
...
The sun rose in the east, signaling the start of a new day. Birds began to chirp and sing, bringing life to the forest.
"That's enough for today." Watching the sunrise, Zion Chen sighed and placed a makeshift cover of branches and leaves over a hole he had dug.
He had spent the entire pre-dawn, setting traps throughout the woods, mapping out favorable terrain for an ambush, and identifying the likely trails his enemies might use.
"Time to head back and make some hot coffee!" He stretched and started back to the cabin, excited for the day.
He emerged from the forest behind his property and headed for the cabin. But as he passed by his small plot of tilled earth, he froze, his eyes widening in disbelief.
"Already...?"
Small, 15-centimeter-tall sprouts had burst from the soil wherever he had planted a seed. The stems glowed with an impossibly vivid green. It was unbelievable. A little over eight hours ago, there had been nothing but barren dirt.
He approached and gave one of the stems a light tug. He met with resistance, which made him raise his eyebrows. It seemed the radish had grown significantly.
"It's big!" He pulled harder, yanking it free, and was shocked at its size—it was as big as a billiard ball.
Even caked in dirt, the radish had an inherent sheen. Its rosy color was vibrant, a sign of perfect health.
Rumble...
"Looks like I've got breakfast." His stomach growled. He went to the well, drew a bucket of water, and washed the radish thoroughly.
"It's practically gleaming." He was even more surprised as he watched the light play off its skin. Anxious for a bite, he crouched by the well and took a large chomp.
CRUNCH!
At the first bite, his brown eyes shone with life. The radish's crisp skin gave way after a brief resistance, letting loose a flood of juice that was followed by an avalanche of flavor.
"THIS IS DELICIOUS!!!"
Zion's eyes shot open and he leaped to his feet. The succulence of the snow-white flesh released more flavor with every chew, and the crisp skin had a perfect texture.
Suddenly, he felt a familiar sensation. Something warm was flowing inside him.
"Is this... some kind of energy?"
Closing his eyes, he could feel a warm current spreading from his stomach throughout his entire body, like gentle threads unfurling and branching out. These threads of energy converged on the damaged areas of his body, acting upon his old injuries and the hidden, long-healed wounds from his past.
"IT'S POSSIBLE!!!!!" Zion Chen shouted, unable to contain his excitement as he realized this mysterious farm phenomenon could actually help him recover.
Maybe every time he planted and harvested, the food would give him this feeling.
Looking at the half-eaten radish, he couldn't wait. He devoured the rest in two bites, savoring the flavor and freshness.
"It helps me heal, and it's delicious!" After swallowing, he began to open and close his hands. This time, he couldn't distinguish an improvement as obvious as the one he'd felt last night when he 'Awakened' the soil.
But Zion Chen was certain the phenomenon was the same. The energy felt the same, the sensation was the same, and, most importantly, his chronic pain was completely gone for a few seconds before returning.
"Now that my stomach is full, some coffee would be perfect," he said, heading for the cabin.
Knock. Knock.
Interrupting his state of euphoria, several loud knocks echoed from the cabin. He hadn't even been back for five minutes, and there was already someone at the door.
"A visitor? This early?" Zion entered the cabin, his good mood obvious.
...
"Should we break it down, sir?" a man in a black suit and sunglasses asked. He was clearly annoyed; he'd been knocking for almost twenty minutes with no sign of anyone.
"You're not breaking down a cripple's house! Invaders!"
As the man spoke, a childish shriek cut through the air. Mia Chen came running from the farm's entrance, furious. She passed the group of guards and slid to a stop in front of the door, her arms spread wide and her chest puffed out.
"Nobody is invading Uncle Zion's cabin! He's just a poor, crippled man!" The girl, her black hair in pigtails and wearing her classic red dress, put on her bravest face to scare off the visitors.
...
Zion, arriving behind the door, heard the entire exchange. Black lines formed on his forehead.
'That little brat!!!' He was utterly indignant. 'I'm a cripple, I'll admit, but I am NOT poor!'
Zion looked through the peephole. He identified two familiar old men, five armed bodyguards, little Mia (trembling like a leaf but holding her pose), and the silent forest beyond, where he knew real assassins could be watching, though his instincts said no.
He let out the most tired sigh of his life.
"I just... wanted to make some coffee."