Arc II - Agrarian Revolution
Chapter 16 - The First Technological Breakthrough
2 months and 5 days since the summoning
The midday sun gently warmed the beastkin village of Zoligasha, where nearly the entire population had gathered in the square. All eyes were actively drawn to the strange plow standing beside Alan.
Alan stood next to his creation. Beside him was Kamelia, and even Tsinker, who had made it very clear that he intended to be present as well.
The plow itself was wooden on top, but fitted with an iron moldboard, a curved plate, on the bottom. In front of the share, a heavy, sharp iron coulter was vertically secured. Most importantly, wheels were attached to the front of the plow.
Alan glanced sideways at his creation.
'Well... I originally planned to use disc blades, but I completely forgot that we have absolutely nothing to mount them with. Precision engineering is non-existent here... Had to change everything on the fly. It looks a lot like a Rotherham plow, if my memory serves me right... Oh well, this is actually pretty decent. Now I have to present this shit to the beastkin... though they don't really have anything to compare it to. Most of them have probably never seen a plow in their lives.'
Tsinker stared at the plow as if it were the sole object in the middle of a vast desert.
Kamelia gently tapped Alan's shoulder. "It is time to begin."
Alan nodded. "Ah... right, time to start." He took a step forward. "Well then, just as I promised, we've taken the first step to finally bringing agriculture to your village." He stepped aside and gestured toward the plow. "You'll be working with this plow. It's completely new, and absolutely no one has ever used anything like it before."
The peasants stepped closer almost unconsciously, while those in the back whispered, translating Alan's words that the translation magic had failed to convey.
An old bear-beastkin scratched his thick beard. "I have seen plows, but never one such as this. Lord Alan, how is it superior to the ordinary ones?"
"It's better in every way," Alan said, walking over to the moldboard. "This piece right here literally flips the soil over. As a result, the weeds get buried and rot, creating fertilizer, while the rich soil is brought to the surface." He tapped the metal blade at the front. "And this sharp part..."
"Alan," Tsinker interrupted.
He turned around in irritation. "What do you want? Can't you see I'm explaining how the plow works?" he whispered.
Tsinker did not even lower his voice. "The peasants understand absolutely nothing."
Gothwald turned back. Everyone was standing around, staring at the plow with expressions of solemn understanding. "What makes you say that?"
"First, it is obvious. Second, you know yourself that they have had no prior dealings with agriculture, and thus they do not comprehend the basics as ordinary farmers would."
Alan scratched the back of his neck. "Uh... alright, let's get straight to the practical test then. Kamelia, where are the oxen?"
She looked out toward the plains. "They shall arrive very shortly."
A burly beastkin with boar ears raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms over his chest. "Oxen? Why, can we not pull it ourselves?"
Several other strong beastkin nodded silently.
Alan snorted. "Pfft... highly unlikely. I mean, you guys are strong, sure, but you've never handled a plow before, and you don't really... get that it's not as easy as it looks."
The boar-beastkin snorted. "Allow us to try, Lord Gothwald?"
Alan shrugged. "Well, go ahead and try." Then he leaned in close to Kamelia's ear. "Watch this. It's about to be a circus," he whispered.
"A what?" she whispered back.
"It's gonna be hilarious, I'm telling you."
Four of the beastkin approached the plow. One tried to lift it but only managed to hoist it slightly. Together, the four of them grabbed it and simply dragged it along, and it moved very easily... until they noticed that the blade hadn't actually sunk into the dirt. The beastkin tilted the plow slightly and pulled again, making contact with the earth. The boar-beastkin positioned himself in front, while the other three took the back.
"Alright, boys, let's go," the first one said, and they all strained against the plow in unison. The plow began to move at an incredible speed, about an inch an hour. The men exerted themselves, pushing so hard their faces turned crimson and
the veins bulged on their arms. After a full minute of grueling effort, they had made a barely visible furrow.
Alan bit his lip to keep from laughing.
Kamelia suddenly began to examine the fence of a nearby house with great interest.
Tsinker simply watched the beastkin with a stony face.
The boar-beastkin finally stepped away from the plow, catching his breath. "Very well... that is not easy. Is this even a proper plow?"
Alan waved his hand with a slight smirk. "It's proper, alright. Don't go doubting the technology on me."
Behind them, the peasants in the crowd giggled softly, while the burly men silently retreated, their heads hung slightly low.
Kamelia cleared her throat. "Alan, the oxen are here."
He turned around. "Final... oh, holy shit..."
Led before them were two oxen, one brown and one black. Except, they stood several heads taller than Alan, and were almost as wide as Alan was tall. They possessed two grey horns twisted into tight spirals. They walked as if the entire world belonged to them.
Alan blinked. "Those are... oxen?"
Kamelia nodded. "Yes. Why do you look so surprised?"
"Well... I didn't think they'd be on steroids."
"On what... Very well. These are indeed oxen, yes. There are only two, but they are exceptionally strong, and should be sufficient for the entire field."
Alan slowly rubbed his eyebrow. "These are fucking John Deeres..." he muttered.
The peasants were already busy harnessing the oxen to the new plow. Tsinker approached Alan and stood beside him. "Is it advantageous or disadvantageous that the oxen are so large compared to your expectations?"
Alan tore his gaze away from these living tractors. "Of course it's good! With these beasts, everything's going to go way faster."
Utew nodded. "I see. What then do you plan to do with all of this?"
Alan watched as a group of beastkin guided the oxen toward the designated plot, followed by the two peasants who had brought the animals. "Look, we're doing the plowing in autumn on purpose... Autumn, you know what autumn is, right?"
The nobleman's eyebrow arched slightly. "Of course I do. What kind of question is that?"
Alan sighed. "Just wondering... thought maybe you guys had some other name for it or something... whatever."
Kamelia approached from behind, glancing over her shoulder at the oxen, which had already begun to till the soil. "What are you discussing?"
"Oh, Kamelia, perfect timing. We're just discussing the autumn plowing."
The Countess immediately stepped closer. "I am listening."
Alan cleared his throat. "Anyway, as I was saying. Autumn is the best time to plow because by spring, we'll have almost perfect soil. Over the winter, all the grass will rot and make great fertilizer. Though weeds will still pop up... we'll have to plow a second time right before sowing. And we can sow at the beginning of spring... By the way, what does your calendar actually look like?"
"Our calendar?" Kamelia asked. "Ah, of course... you do not know. Shall I list all the months for you?"
Alan nodded. "Yeah."
"The year consists of twelve months, beginning with Zhent, which marks the end of the second month of autumn, after the harvest. That is to say, very soon. Zhent, Listo, Grends, Sench, Lyugon, Bergef, Kviton, Trifon, Chergon, Ligon, Seruk, and Vernok. Currently, it is Vernok."
Alan blinked. "Zhent... Listo... it's gonna take me forever to memorize your months, but whatever. Anyway, in... what's the first month of spring?"
"Bergef."
"Right, we can start working the fields in Bergef. All that's left is to plow this and..." Alan's eyes widened slightly. "Rest? No way it's that easy... we just rest?"
"Tsinker did mention that something is brewing with Duke Gobano," Kamelia reminded him.
Tsinker looked away from the oxen and the peasants, who had already finished tilling one long row. "Indeed, it is certainly no time to rest. Even I do not know exactly when the cup shall overflow and the Duke will be overthrown."
Alan raised his hand. "Won't the King step in or... something? Or is the fragmentation here just too extreme?"
Tsinker shook his head. "The King is old, ill, and weak. He could not even attend the Hero summoning ritual due to his failing health."
"Ahhh," Alan drawled. "So that's why the King wasn't there when I was summoned... Wait, does that mean you were there?"
Tsinker nodded. "I was."
Alan blinked. "So you saw me too?"
"I did. Frankly, I did not think I would now be discussing matters of such import with a terrified boy in bizarre clothing."
Alan offered a tight smile. "Very sweet of you."
Suddenly, a low, greenish figure appeared near one of the houses. Tsinker caught sight of it out of the corner of his eye and spun around instantly, involuntarily taking a step back while maintaining his stone face. "What is that? A shinnor? Why is it in the village?"
The beast simply sat by the house, slightly wagging its tail as it studied the wall.
Kamelia squinted, then waved her hand dismissively. "Ah, that is... I forgot what they call it. But they have domesticated the beast; it assists the village, or some such thing."
Meanwhile, Alan stood like a statue. His breathing grew heavier with every inhalation, as if a hydraulic press were weighing on his chest. "I... I need to step away..." he said.
Kamelia simply nodded without even turning around. "Very well."
Alan quickly slipped behind the nearest house, pressing his back against the wall and clutching his chest. His pulse hammered so violently his hands shook. His face gradually turned white, and a cold bead of sweat dripped down his forehead.
'A shinnor... fuck, a SHINNOR... What... is... is that Kane? What if it's not Kane?! What if it attacks and tears me apart again?! I... I'm staying right here until it leaves!'
He slowly slid down the wall, gasping for air and staring straight ahead, occasionally peeking frantically around the corner to see if the beast had gone.
Alan peeked out from behind the wall once more, and instantly went entirely pale.
The beast was standing just a few paces away from them, sniffing the air. Tsinker watched the shinnor warily from a distance, while Kamelia simply stood with her arms crossed.
Alan's heart began to race like an engine.
'NO! GET AWAY! IT'S GONNA EAT YOU! GET THE HELL OUT OF THERE!'
Driven by curiosity, the shinnor approached almost within arm's reach and began sniffing the Countess's boot.
Alan gripped the corner of the wall so tightly it felt as if it might crack.
'You idiot, move! Get away from it! Move!'
He bit his lip almost to the point of bleeding, then stood up and marched abruptly toward them.
Kamelia leaned down slightly toward the shinnor. "Well, what interesting things have you found there?"
Utterly ignoring her words, the beast continued to inspect her boot with haughty curiosity.
Suddenly, Alan approached from behind. His gaze locked onto the beast, which paid him absolutely no mind, and Alan's legs froze as if stuck in a mire. He quickly wiped the blood from his chin; the bite on his lip had already healed.
Tsinker did not take his eyes off the shinnor, but he heard the footsteps. "I trust you did not relieve yourself behind someone's home? That is highly improper."
Kamelia turned around and froze. "Alan, what is the matter with you? You... I knew those apples were already bad."
Alan flinched. "Huh? What? Yeah... the apples must have been spoiled. Get away from... that thing... Kamelia."
The Countess looked down. The shinnor had already lost interest in her boots and was staring at Tsinker. "What? It is merely sniffing."
"Kamelia, move away... please."
She blinked, but silently stepped back and stood closer to him without saying a word. Tsinker, unable to read Alan's face or emotions, did not take his eyes off the beast for a single second as it began to show interest in him. The nobleman slowly, very slowly, began to take steps backward.
The beast remained still, then let out a snort as if offended, and wandered back toward the house where it had been sitting.
The Countess glanced at Alan, but chose not to ask anything and turned her attention back to the field.
"And why are you so pale?" Tsinker asked, turning to Alan.
He flinched slightly. "Ah... me? I just... got poisoned by those apples, and..."
"No," the nobleman interrupted. "You look as though you are afraid. What occurred?"
Alan opened his mouth, then closed it. The words wouldn't come.
"Tsinker," Kamelia said, casting a sharp look at him.
He stared at her for a few seconds, then shrugged and turned back to the field.
Alan exhaled.
'Kamelia, you are the greatest woman in the entire world.'
Meanwhile, during their conversation, the beastkin on the field had already plowed several rows, working faster and faster as they gained experience.
Alan straightened up slightly, the paleness beginning to recede. "Well... looks like they're managing pretty well on their own. I think they'll finish within a month, maybe even less."
Kamelia watched with wide eyes, and even Tsinker raised an eyebrow.
"Astonishing," Utew said in an absolutely flat voice. "I have never seen a field plowed at such speed."
Kamelia nodded slowly. "Indeed... with an ordinary plow, they would only just be finishing the first row. Alan, your device is a miracle."
The paleness completely vanished from Alan's face, and he stood tall. "Told you this was an awesome piece of gear, didn't I? Imagine if every village had one of these..."
Tsinker scratched his chin, watching how smoothly the next row progressed. "If every village possessed such a tool, the fields could be made incredibly more fertile, and they would demand far less effort. The peasants would tire less, labor more... Truly, this is a highly beneficial object."
Kamelia crossed her arms. "Heh, indeed it is, as you can see. But no one is plowing now; it is not the season. Thus... before spring arrives, we can construct more plows, and... oh, Svyatol..." She ran a hand through her hair. "How is it... how do you say it, Alan?"
"Cool."
"Yes... that will be VERY cool."
Gothwald watched the plow at work, seeing Kamelia staring spellbound at the field, and Tsinker keeping his gaze fixed on the innovation with his hands behind his back, and smiled faintly.
