Arc II – Agrarian Revolution

Chapter 1 - The Argarian Relovution

Day 25 Since the Summoning

The morning sun was rising over the capital of the Armenas county.

Alan lay on his bed, one arm resting behind his head, the other held up in front of his face. He was still intensely studying his perfectly whole, unblemished fingers.

'I still have no idea what that was... but it obviously wasn't just a dream. The proof is right here, healed fingers. Who is this... Stranger? A local deity? Their version of the devil? Or someone else entirely?'

He got up and walked over to the mirror.

'Pfft... so he finds me interesting... well, he did give me some useful information. I'm not the only hero who ended up without magic. And... I'm incredibly lucky to have the brains I do.'

The guy started running his fingers over his fully healed lips.

'Hmm... he said he was tired of watching heroes degrade as individuals under the sheer weight of their magic... maybe that's the answer to my question: why hasn't this world changed after 300 years of summoning heroes? Or is it way more complicated than that? I just refuse to believe that all three hundred... or however many people... could be so drunk on magic that they didn't give a single shit about basic progress... no... there's definitely more to this than just vanity... but I have no clue, and there's no point digging into it when I know practically nothing.'

He stepped away from the mirror and stood by the window.

'The Stranger... should I ask Kamelia or Shergen who he is?'

Alan shook his head.

'Shit idea. What if, to them, the Stranger is... I don't know... some cursed demon, and associating with him is a mortal sin? Like making a deal with the devil back in my world. They burned people at the stake for that. No, I'm not asking anyone... it's too risky. I have to figure out who this Stranger is on my own. But how?'

He started pacing around the room, hands clasped behind his back.

'Maybe drop it casually with Kamelia? Like, 'Hey, who's the Stranger?' No... that's stupid. She'll definitely ask where I heard the name, and I won't have a coherent answer. Heard it? From who, exactly? I haven't left this room in days. Read it? Where the fuck would I read it? I can't even read their language. Nope. Lips absolutely sealed. I have more important things to deal with right now.'

Alan took one last look at his fingernails.

'A gift... pfft, some gift. Healed me once. Well, thanks for that, at least.'

He sighed, picked up the bandages, and started wrapping them back around his fingers. Once done, the guy headed for the door.

Stepping out, Alan was just wandering down the quiet corridor when he suddenly bumped into Golna, who was calmly walking somewhere with a pile of linens in her arms.

"Hey, you," Alan said.

The beastman maid flinched slightly in surprise, then turned around. "Yes, Lord Gothwald?"

Alan blinked. 'Lord Gothwald? Whatever, let it slide.'

"Your name is Golna, right?"

The beastman nodded. "Yes, my lord. How may I help you?"

Alan shoved his hands down, instinctively reaching for his pockets, but medieval trousers didn't have any, so he just awkwardly patted his thighs. He clicked his tongue and settled for putting his hands on his hips. "I need Kamelia. Where is she?"

Golna frowned slightly, confused by the strange gesture, but quickly smoothed her expression back into polite neutrality. "Lady Armenas is currently resting, but... she ordered me to wake her immediately if you came looking for her. I will fetch her right away." She gave a short bow and hurried off toward the stairs.

Alan stood there for a second, then headed toward the small throne room.

"Man... I need to tell the local tailors about pockets. That'd be a massive breakthrough," he muttered to himself.

A minute later, Gothwald was sitting at the table in the small throne room,
hunched over, tapping his fingers against the wood.

'What time is it, anyway? It's so... annoying. Back home, I could just check my phone clock at any given second, but here... who the hell knows. I think in the early Middle Ages they didn't even have basic clock faces, they mostly used sundials and water clocks... God, this world is so inconvenient, it's a nightmare.'

He let out a quiet sigh.

'No pockets, no clocks, no windmills, absolutely fucking nothing. How did I not think about this before? Oh right, yeah, I was too busy trying to save my own ass. Classic Maslow's hierarchy, really. Once a person doesn't have to worry about surviving another day, they finally start thinking beyond their next meal.'

The door to the throne room opened.

Kamelia.

Her hair was a mess, her face slightly puffy, and her eyes were struggling to stay open. Her uniform was thrown on haphazardly and looked a bit crooked. The girl sat down across from him. "I hope you didn't wake me up at the crack of dawn for nothing," she mumbled.

Alan rested his elbows on the table and let his head drop onto his hands. "Of course not. I have an important matter regarding the famine."

The girl yawned. "I'm listening."

Alan opened his mouth, then closed it.

'Real smooth. You whined and complained, and now who's supposed to figure out where to start? Alright... improvise.'

He yawned too. "Well... for starters, we should discuss... uh... whatchamacallit... how to implement a preliminary fix for the famine, at least for the short term."

"Uh-huh," Kamelia said, resting her head on her hand, mirroring Alan's posture. "I'm listening closely."

The guy shot her a sideways glance, but continued, his vision practically blurring from sleepiness. "Right. First, we need to find a way to feed the peasants... like, here and now."

"Teru, ge yaki cpocob?"

"Come again?" Alan asked.

"Diy, ge yaky cpocob?"

Gothwald shook his head. "What?"

"I asked 'what method'. Are you deaf or something?" she mumbled.

Alan blinked.

'Ah... so if I'm half-asleep, the translator stops working? Got it.'

He opened his mouth, closed it. "Hold on... let me think."

The countess yawned. "Take your time, we have all day."

Alan nodded and zoned out for about three minutes, when suddenly he heard a soft snoring sound. He looked up.

Kamelia was fast asleep.

Gothwald snorted.

'Pfft... well, if an actual countess can catch some Zs in the throne room, why can't I?'

He got comfortable, resting his head fully on his arms, and a few minutes later, he was snoring right along with her.

Alan opened his eyes.

The sun was now streaming brightly through the windows of the throne room; it was probably around noon. The guy rubbed his eyes. He was covered in sweat, and his eyes felt bloodshot.

'Ugh... my head is splitting... this is exactly why I've always hated daytime naps.'

He sat up and looked over at Kamelia. She was still out cold.

'The countess is sawing logs. What a sight. But... the clock is ticking. How do I even wake her up? ...hah... let's try this.'

He walked over and started shaking her shoulder. "Wakey wakey, eggs and bakey, time for school. Come on, wake up, you ready for school?"

Kamelia struggled to open her eyes, also slightly bloodshot, and looked at Alan. "Huh?"

He pulled his hand back. "Get up, I said. Time to get to work."

Kamelia rubbed her eyes and reluctantly stood up. "Right... sorry I fell asleep like that." She yawned. "Let's go... out to the terrace, at least there's fresh air."

Five minutes later, they were sitting on a stone terrace under an awning. To one side, they had a sweeping view of the entire capital of Armenas, and beyond it, the endless blue sea.

Townspeople walked the streets, merchants hawked their wares in the square, and somewhere in the distance, the rhythmic clanging of a blacksmith's hammer rang out.

Golna stepped onto the terrace, set down two cups filled with some kind of pale blue liquid, bowed, and left.

Alan raised an eyebrow. "What's this swill?"

Kamelia blinked. "Ah... it's called oyre. A drink made from oyrigtoge flowers, they grow up north in the Faarkian Mountains. The servants bought some from a merchant who passed through three months ago."

Gothwald picked up the cup, his eyes locked on the drink.

'Hmm... Faarkian Mountains, new location. Noted. And this drink... is it their equivalent of tea or something?'

"What does it taste like?"

Kamelia had already taken a sip. "Sweet, with a slight bitterness."

Alan nodded, took a sip himself, and smacked his lips.

'Yeah... it actually does taste like regular tea, just without sugar. But it's naturally much sweeter and actually drinkable, not like that bitter dishwater back home. What kind of masochists drink tea without sugar, anyway?'

He squeezed his eyes shut.

'Okay, focus. Wrong priority.'

Alan opened his eyes and picked the cup back up. "Alright, I think it's time we talked about how we're going to solve this famine."

Kamelia stopped looking at the city and turned to Alan. "Yes. What ideas do you have?"

Gothwald leaned back in his chair. "Look... first things first, we just need to literally feed people in the short term. I have bigger plans, but let's think more practically for a minute. What's the food situation like right now?"

The countess gripped her cup a little tighter. "Bad. There's very little grain; the harvest failed, like I told you. As far as I know... no one is starving to death just yet, but I've heard that in some villages they're already eating tree bark."

Alan missed a breath.

'Eating tree bark... so that's what a real famine looks like, damn it. Hmm...'

He scratched his chin.

'We need to feed them immediately... maybe there's food literally lying right under their feet, but nobody knows about it? I mean, that happened in my world all the time. Slugs, snails, mushrooms, rye back in the day... all that shit was edible, but people either didn't know or just refused to eat it.'

"Listen, do you have anything edible around here that the peasants just refuse to eat?"

Kamelia took a sip of oyre and shrugged. "I don't know, I've never looked into it. Why? Is that a thing?"

Alan nodded. "Absolutely. Snails, for example."

She choked and started coughing. "Snails?! Those disgusting slugs?!" She set her cup down. "Alan, I understand that you know a lot of things, but that... honestly, even after everything I've seen, that sounds like the ravings of a madman."

Alan scowled. "Hey, in my world, snails are actually a delicacy."

The countess blinked. "What a bizarre world you come from. Only humans, everyone's an aristocrat, and now... you eat snails, too."

Alan held up a finger. "First of all, not everyone is an aristocrat, everyone just has a surname. Second of all... whatever." He lowered his finger. "We'll ride out to a random village later and get the details. But for now, let me tell you something much more interesting." He picked his cup back up and took a sip. "I'm going to tell you about something that, back in my world, was an absolute breakthrough."

Kamelia raised an eyebrow. "A breakthrough... what do you mean?"

"I mean it changed everything. Remember when I asked you about the three-field crop rotation system?"

She nodded. "Yes, I remember. What is it?"

Alan set his cup down and threw his hands up. "That idea is weak anyway, so we're going to skip straight to... the four-field system. In my world, it was called the 'Agrarian Revolution'... by the way, remember the word 'agrarian', I'm going to use it a lot. It means anything related to growing food."

Kamelia nodded slowly. "Agrarian... growing food," she muttered.

'Why didn't I think of this sooner? The Norfolk four-field system... my god... my god!'

His body started to literally tremble slightly.

'This is... this is a literal game-breaker in an early medieval world! The four-field system is a total revolution! Because of it, you could feed livestock CONSTANTLY, turnips in the winter, clover in the summer! Livestock populations exploded! More well-fed cattle means more manure, which means more fertilizer for the fields! This system led directly to the Industrial Revolution because everyone was fed, which freed up the workforce! If I introduce this here...'

Kamelia stared at Alan, who was vibrating slightly, his fists clenched, staring into space with a manic grin on his face. "Um... Alan, are you alright?"

"Kamelia!" He shot up from his chair. "You have no idea what I just came up with!"

The girl flinched back slightly. "W-what is it?"

"You let one field rest, right?"

"R-right."

Alan stepped away from the table and started pacing by the railing. "But I know a method where the field never has to rest!"

Kamelia blinked. "But... is that even possible? If a field doesn't rest, the soil will be completely ruined, won't it?"

Gothwald wagged a finger. "Actually, no, it won't." He sat back down at the table. "Do you guys have... well... turnips? You know... like a big root vegetable."

The countess took a sip of oyre. "Yes, we do. They grow them in some fields... to feed the livestock."

"Perfect." Alan smacked his fist into his palm. "Let me tell you how this played out in my world." He closed his eyes. "Thanks to this agrarian revolution... the problem of famine was completely and permanently solved."

Kamelia's eyes widened slightly. "What do you mean... solved?"

"Just like that! But... again. You're going to have to trust me. Because this is going to sound completely insane to you."

The girl sat in silence for a few seconds, then sighed. "After the sickness... yes. I trust you."

Alan shuddered slightly at the memory, but quickly shook his head. "Thank you. But this time, I'll explain exactly how it works and why."

She looked up at him. "...yes. I want to know." Her hand set the cup aside. "But we shouldn't waste any time. You said we need to ride to a village and assess the situation. Let's get ready, and we can discuss your argarian relovution on the way."

"Agrarian revolution," Alan corrected, then waved a hand. "Whatever, it doesn't matter. Let's head to the stables, then..." He winced slightly. "Time to chafe my balls off again..." he muttered under his breath.