After stacking the last potato beside the field, Rowen turned back, wiping the sweat off his forehead. "Alright. Let's get the next batch growing."
He walked over to the patch of soil, ready to plant—but paused.
The basket where he'd kept leftover seeds was empty.
"...I'm out of seeds?"
Fern, still hovering nearby and munching on something invisible, rolled his eyes. "Obviously."
Rowen sighed. "So now I need to go buy more?"
Fern floated upward and made a lazy twirl with his finger. A faint swirl of green energy shimmered in the air, and with a soft pop, a small pouch appeared and gently dropped into Rowen's hands.
Rowen blinked in surprise and quickly opened it. Inside were several small, glowing potato seeds, fresh and pulsing faintly with mana.
He looked up. "These are…?"
Fern nodded. "As long as you plant and nurture crops here, the land will return seeds after harvest. You don't need to keep buying them."
Rowen was speechless for a second. "That's… actually incredible."
He knelt and began planting the next batch of seeds into the tilled soil. One by one, he covered them carefully, patting the dirt down.
Then it hit him.
"Wait," he muttered, standing up, "I haven't recharged the energy yet."
Fern gave him a lazy glance. "Yeah, don't blame me when your crops sprout slower than a turtle. Feed me already."
Rowen fished out two low-grade mana stones from his bag and tossed them toward Fern. "Eat up."
As the sprite caught them mid-air and bit into them like crunchy apples, the air around the field shimmered faintly—warmth, vitality, and a hum of life returning to the soil.
Rowen exhaled slowly.
"That gave us... sixteen points," Fern said after a moment, licking his fingers. "Still a long way to go."
Rowen didn't respond. Those two stones were his entire month's savings.
But now, with thirty glowing potatoes ready to sell, he had a real chance.
He could go out, sell this stuff, and earn mana stones—recharge the land, develop it further, and maybe even get rich.
By the time Rowen stepped out of the portal, the morning sun was already high. He checked the time—8:00 AM.
Back at the shop, he descended the stairs, flipped the sign to "OPEN," and placed the thirty glowing potatoes into a woven basket by the entrance—right where customers could easily spot them. He scribbled the price on a small board and sat behind the counter.
It felt strange.
He had never done anything like this in his entire life. He'd always been at school during shop hours. He had no idea if there was actual foot traffic here or if anyone would even show up.
Minutes passed.
Rowen noticed a few carriages and mana-powered vehicles passing by outside. Curious, he stepped out and leaned against the doorframe.
Adventurers.
Lots of them.
Where were they all going? Was there an event nearby?
Velor raised an eyebrow. "Dropped out?"
"Yeah," Rowen said quietly. "I figured… school wasn't really for me. Not anymore. I've decided to run the shop full-time. Maybe grow and sell vegetables and see where it goes.
There was a brief silence.
Then Velor gave a slow nod, arms crossed. "Bold move. Risky, too. But your grandfather… He always said this shop had potential. Guess it's finally getting an owner again."
Rowen managed a small smile. "Thanks. I'm just figuring things out as I go."
Velor's gaze softened a bit. "Well, if you ever need scrolls—or advice—my door's open."
Rowen nodded gratefully. "I appreciate that, Mister Brown."
"Call me Uncle Velor," the man replied with a faint smile.
"Alright… Uncle Velor. Thanks again."
With that, Rowen turned to leave. As he stepped back onto the street, he gave a small wave over his shoulder. "I'll see you around."
Velor raised a hand in return. "Best of luck, kid."
Rowen made his way back to his shop, the bustle of morning activity buzzing louder around him now that he was truly noticing it—clinks of armor, laughter from passing adventurers, and the sound of mana engines.
He unlocked the door and stepped inside.
After flipping the sign to OPEN, he closed the door and walked over to the counter.
The basket of glowing potatoes was still near the entrance, easy to see from outside.
Rowen sat down behind the counter.
This was it—his first day running the shop instead of going to school.
From here on out, Rowen just needed Fern to feed on mana crystals.
As long as Fern had enough energy, he could take care of everything—monitoring mana levels, managing crops, and even harvesting when needed. Rowen wouldn't have to keep going back and forth anymore.
It made things simpler.
He still had to plan and grow, but the pressure of watching over the field every hour was finally gone.
Now, he could focus on what came next.
After that, Rowen gave Fern one more instruction—"When it's time to harvest, just do it yourself and hand them over to me outside the portal."
Fern yawned and gave a lazy salute. "Got it. I'll drop the basket right in your room."
That was all Rowen needed to hear.
With Fern handling the farm directly, Rowen didn't have to waste time jumping in and out of the portal just to check crops. He could manage everything else from the outside.
Now, he could finally shift his focus—to himself and to the shop.
After that, Rowen left the space and told Fern to close the portal behind him.
This time, Fern didn't disappear.
Instead of vanishing to sleep like he usually did, he floated along behind Rowen, arms crossed and eyes half-open.
"Can't nap today," Fern muttered. "Gotta keep an eye on the farm."
Rowen glanced back at him. "So you're staying outside now?"
"Yeah," Fern said with a shrug.
The two of them made their way downstairs, heading back to the shop together.
Rowen glanced at the wall clock—it was already past 2:00 PM.
All that work had made him hungry.
He grabbed his phone and ordered from a local food delivery app. Nothing too fancy—just a mana-rich meat dish he'd seen before but never had enough mana crystals to try. This time, he could afford it.
When the delivery arrived, he paid with two low-grade mana stones and took the bag inside.
The smell hit him right away—warm, savory, with a faint mana signature that made it feel like the food itself had energy.
Rowen sat down and started eating slowly, really tasting it. After a few bites, he noticed Fern floating nearby, staring at the food with wide, drooling eyes.
"…You want some?" Rowen asked.
Fern didn't answer—but the look said everything.
Rowen sighed and passed over a small portion. "Just this much."
Fern snatched it out of the air and stuffed it into his mouth.
"Finally!" he said between chews. "About time you shared real food."
After eating, Rowen cleaned up the utensils, rinsed everything in the small sink, and wiped down the table.
Then he walked over to the corner behind the counter and sat down, letting out a quiet breath.
"Fern, go ahead and put the harvested potatoes on the wooden shelf," he said.
Fern gave a small nod, still chewing the last bit of food. "Yeah, yeah."
He floated over, lifted the basket, and carefully stacked the potatoes onto the shelf near the front window—just where customers could see them.
Once he was done, he drifted back over to the counter and plopped down on the table, arms crossed and eyes half-lidded.
Rowen looked at him, a little amused.
"Sleepy?"
Fern didn't answer. He was already snoring softly.
Rowen leaned back against the wall, eyes starting to close as well. For now, everything was quiet.
Suddenly, the front door swung open with a sharp ring of the bell.
Rowen opened one sleepy eye and glanced toward the entrance.
Four people stepped inside.
He blinked, straightening up when he recognized them—it was the same group from before: the two knights, the mage, and the young master. Darian Velastra.
But this time, they looked completely different.
Their clothes were dirtied, scratched, and covered in dried blood. Mana traces clung faintly to their armor and cloaks. They didn't look injured, but it was clear—they had just come back from a fight where they almost didn't make it.
Rowen immediately understood.
They'd figured it out.
They knew about the effect of the potatoes.
He didn't say anything yet, just stood slowly and waited for them to speak.
This time, it was Darian Velastra who stepped forward.
His posture was still proud, but his tone was different—calmer, more polite.
"We'd like to buy the potatoes you have for sale," he said, glancing toward the wooden shelf.
Rowen didn't miss the change.
Last time, they had barely looked at him and tossed mana stones without a second thought. Now, they were speaking properly—like customers who understood the value of what they were buying.
Rowen nodded slowly. "Take what you need. Price is still the same—ten low-grade mana stones per batch."
Darian walked over to the shelf, examining the glowing potatoes carefully.
He turned back to Rowen. "We'll take them all."