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Guardian's Farm 5
🕑 Added 2024-12-14 13:02:25 +0000 UTCWhen the first light of dawn filtered through the canopy of trees, casting dappled patterns on my face, I was already awake.
“Pain,” I grumbled as I stood up, every muscle in my body stiff, shouting in agony. It seemed that two years of luxury had been enough to overshadow two decades of adventuring. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, focusing on my body, and a warmth spread through with each breath, dealing with the stiffness.
It would be tragic if I hadn’t figured out a few tricks during my adventures. Too bad it wasn’t as effective against the lingering damage from my wounds, both old and new, collected during my long career.
As the guardian of the party, I had always been the first one to face the threats, protecting the others at the cost of receiving those wounds myself. And, not all of those wounds could be cured.
“No pondering about the past,” I reminded myself as I prepared myself for my morning routine, a three-hour long grueling exercise program that was designed to keep me in peak condition — or at least in as peak of a condition as possible, considering my advancing age — when I remembered it wasn’t necessary.
There was no challenger waiting to be addressed. I could actually take it easy.
Instead, I walked around my new homestead. I had a few reasons to do so. First, it gave me a chance to set a few traps. There was one advantage to the distance from even the nearest village: hunting would be easier. I didn’t even need a bow, which would not have been exactly cheap for my new financial situation.
But, as I set the traps, I examined the ground, including the best location to build my cottage. It needed to be near the center of my land, preferably somewhat elevated to give a nice view of the area when necessary.
And, most importantly, it needed to be near a water source. There were no convenient springs within walking distance, but that didn’t mean I was helpless. I had a shovel. I just needed to dig a well.
“Time to get to work,” I muttered as I carefully examined the ground, trying to see any signs of underground water. If Anna was here, she could have pointed out the best spot in a second … but she was not, so I needed to focus on the present.
I had my own methods of discovering water, mostly based on the thickness of vegetation and soil quality. Soon, I had my first prospective location, and started digging.
It brought back memories. I had to dig for water many times before deciding to leave the village for adventuring, which had always been an event, with dozens of people moving around, taking turns digging, moving away the dirt, laying bricks…
Of course, they didn’t have an oversized man like me with some excess physical strength, one that had been developed to physically contend against actual giants, rabid monsters, and mad dragons. Digging felt like a break, and carrying an oversized bucket filled with dirt barely required any attention.
“Finally, a good way to use my abilities,” I muttered as I tapped into the residual strength that always lingered within me, the powers that had only been used against spoiled children for the last two years. Digging a well was a much better use of my time.
Especially since I didn’t have to wear my ceremonial armor, which I had grown to hate. It wasn’t the fault of the armor, as Victory Eternal had saved my life many times during my adventures. However, it was also designed for very unique defensive purposes, while others handled the offense.
It made things harder during the duels; looking back, I could see that it was a mistake. Back then, it felt like not wearing it during the duels was not an option due to my newly created position, but ultimately, it only held me back, making them much harder than was necessary.
“Not my only bad choice,” I said while I continued to work, glad that my extraordinary strength and endurance were proving useful. Under my might, the soil yielded easily, and the pile beside the hole grew steadily.
Too bad that, when I reached six feet, I hit a large rock, marking the first attempt to dig a well a failure.
It took me three more tries until I found a better spot, which avoided any large rock formations. And, once I reached fifty feet, my feet finally started to get wet —
Before the ground gave up completely. I was barely able to hold onto the steps I had carved to the side, hooking my arm while the shattered ground had disappeared into the depths of the water. I managed to hang onto the shower, but the primitive bucket I used to bring out the dirt disappeared into the water. Not a big loss.
“Success,” I said, climbing up. The water rose behind me, showing that the underground source had some pressure. It was promising.
Once I climbed the primitive stairs, I looked down, noticing the water level steading ten feet below the ground level, which was more than enough. I rubbed off the sweat trickling down my brow, feeling the satisfaction of hard work done.
It had been two years since I had felt even a hint of glory, and even before then, most of my victories were tinged with melancholic loss. No battle could be won without sacrifices.
I looked up, realizing it was almost midday, with hunger gnawing at my stomach. Curious, I visited the traps, and received the reward of a large, fat rabbit. “A perfect lunch to celebrate a water source,” I said, feeling nostalgic as I quickly processed the beast.
It was good to see that my lack of practice didn’t slow me down. Several minutes later, the rabbit was hanging on an open flame, seasoned only with salt.
While the rabbit cooked, I fashioned another bucket, which was good enough to work before I started making a few clay pots for convenience. I filled it, before I took the first sips from my brand-new well.
The water tasted like victory.
“My lunch and my drink is ready. Now, all that remains is the dessert,” I said even as I walked toward the woods, careful not to get too far away from the fire pit. The last thing I needed was to lose my bounty to a hungry beast. But, I wasn’t worried too much. Years of experience in the wilderness had honed my ability to notice the subtleties of nature.
Still, I didn’t go deep into the woods, choosing to stay where I could see my fire pit. Soon, I came across a cluster of familiar berry bushes. It didn’t even have a name, just called summer berries, which I loved in my childhood.
“It has been a while since I tasted any,” I said to myself and reached for the branches, heavy with dark, ripe fruit. I smiled as I plucked a few of the familiar berries, enjoying their sweet and sour taste. “These will do nicely,” I thought. I collected some but left the rest to grow.
Though, realizing just how long it had been since I had eaten one, I couldn’t help but feel depressed. It was not a delicacy that could be found in the capital. It didn’t yield enough to be worth farming, and it also didn’t hold up well while being transferred.
Admittedly, as the Grand Guardian, I could have requested some as a special, but I did not, thinking that it would be just another point that would highlight my peasant background, making the policies I had been trying to push look like sentimental drivel rather than well thought-out plans.
“Jokes on me, it didn’t matter either way,” I said as I began my march back to my campsite, delaying slightly to get a few wild mushrooms. One of the benefits of having traveled extensively was learning which mushrooms were safe to eat, and which were better ingredients for sabotaging the food of my enemies.
Adding them to my haul, I returned back to the fire. Lacking any kind of pot, I had no option but to roast them. Mushrooms, I skewered on a small branch, listening to their sizzle while I munched on the berries, and using my blade to a couple plates and some temporary utensils. I was nowhere near a professional carver, but I was good enough to make some usable stuff. My spoons were not fully symmetrical, nor were my plates flat, but those were acceptable tradeoffs.
Once everything was done, and the meat was appropriately cooled, I started my lunch. Despite my hunger, I ate slowly, savoring each bite. It was a simple, poor meal, but it was delicious nonetheless. A combination of nostalgia and freedom…
If only a certain person could be with me… Too bad it was never an option. The path I picked had ensured that I would never see her again, not even accidentally.
“It’s not a topic fitting for my first day,” I decided as I stood up. After tidying up the remains, I started working on the well. I didn’t have proper bricks, but I didn’t need them. I looked at one of the rocks that I dug out, squeezing my palm. “Let’s see if I can still do this,” I said as I closed my eyes, feeling the warmth dancing on my body for a moment before it collected upon my fists.
I brought it down, and the rock cracked. “Not bad,” I said. It had been a while since I had used that trick without a weapon, which felt liberating. The rest of the day, I used the broken rocks and mud to put together a workable structure around the well, which took less time than braiding a rope from the branches.
Could I have purchased a rope from the market? Certainly. I just needed to make a trip deep into the forest and hunt a beast that would net me a dozen silver coins. It wouldn’t be difficult. But, I didn’t want to start bringing dangerous beasts to town. The last thing I needed was some undue attention.
Besides, there was a certain satisfaction to fashioning everything by hand. After the well and the rope, I used my axe to fell a tree, my physical might once again helping me to process it faster. Turning it to planks without a proper saw was not possible, but by the time night arrived, I had already managed to cut it to pieces enough to make a small storage shed with a door, enough to keep various sundries safe from the curious paws of any wild critter that wanted to use my budding farm as a supply depot.
As the sun began to set, painting the sky with hues of orange and purple, I closed my eyes, yielding to exhaustion. It wasn’t the suffocating exhaustion after the battle, one that left me empty with leaden limbs and a crazy beating heart, but a low buzz that made me happy.
My first day playing the hermit had paid off beautifully.
Comments
Notcreepycreeper
Also that was bit harsh. This story is generally scratching my Retired OP MC itch. So thanks for writing!!
Notcreepycreeper
Enjoying the story, but there’s only so many times you want to hear a man ogling his own muscles. I get that a lot of it is him enjoying using his strength for something other than fighting. And some of that is solid character building, but perhaps a bit more sparingly - we know he’s a big mountain of a man, we’re reminded when he pulverizes rocks with his hands, we don’t always need him to again clarify through internal monologue
