Chapter 13: Bull's Horns Ranch

Thomas got off Karl, and walked to the door of the farm house before him. He had read Bull's Horns Ranch on a sign as he had first laid eyes on the farm, and he had known that there could be work for him in here. If not as an adventurer, then as a farmhand.

The summoner knocked on the door three times, and waited. Soon, an old man opened the door, and stared pass Thomas and straight at Karl.

"Are you a bandit?" The old man spoke, as he touched the hilt of his sword, which was strapped to his hip.

"No. A freelancing adventurer," Thomas clarified. The last thing he wanted was for the first farm that he approached to spread the rumors that he was a bandit. Although, he could see how people could see Karl and go to that conclusion.

"Hm, you are a bit too well-mannered to be a bandit. What, with you knocking and all. Are you lost, boy?" The man asked, and Thomas tried to hide the fact that he was nervous. It was now or never.

"I am looking for a quest. It doesn't have to be about killing monsters, I can also work on the ranch," Thomas looked hopefully at the old man, who nodded.

"The Orestria guild deals with all the pests around here. But I won't say no to a farmhand. How good are you in painting fences?" The man pointed at the fence of the ranch, which looked like it hadn't been painted in months.

"I have painted my own apartment several times. Surely, there is not much of a difference?" Thomas allowed a small smile to creep into his lips when the man nodded.

"My name is Owen," the old man offered his hand, and Thomas took it.

"I am Thomas, the slime-dragon behind me is called Karl," the dark-haired man pointed at the slime behind him. Owen waved at it, and it wagged its tail.

"Keep it away from my animals," Owen ordered. Then, he got back in the house and came out with a bucket of paint and a brush. "I can offer you the barn, as a place to stay. Three meals a day, plus, something for your pet. In addition to that, you will get fifty copper coins per day as a wage for as long as you stay in here. This is more than what Mathew, the owner of the closest ranch to this one, will offer you."

"Sounds fair," Thomas was not about to argue. This arrangement was going to give him time to evolve Karl and maybe train some more. Lose more weight, so the trek around the countryside wouldn't be littered with so many stops.

The chubby man took the bucket, and went to one end of the fence. Karl watched him with interest, and it tried to dip its tail inside the bucket.

"That is not for you to eat. You will get sick, Karl," Thomas swatted the tail away, and dipped the brush inside the bucket. "Stay still and sleep, or something."

Karl did not lay down. Instead, the slime sniffed the grass, and then began to graze. Thomas began to paint, letting the rhythmic movements of the brush lull him into a calm state of mind.

The fence seemed unending. The adventurer had to admit that this was a big ranch. He would be painting for many days. Still, he was called in the house, just as the sun set. Hungry, he wasn't even thinking about his diet.

Then, as he looked at the chicken roast with squash and bean soap to the side, he remembered. He was on a diet. If he didn't uphold it, then he would just get fatter.

Not wanting to insult his host, he took enough of the chicken so that it could fit in his palm. Then, he took four rings of the squash, instead of bread. For fat, he poured some olive oil on top of the squash, and he took one nectarine for dessert.

The brown-eyed man had read Lucius's booklet from cover to cover. He had memorized the food portions and could recite them in his sleep. So, he was fairly certain that he would still be in the zone.

"You are going to eat just that? Are you certain? I won't let you just waltz into my kitchen when you are hungry during the night," Owen pushed the bowl with the bean soup closer to Thomas.

"I am on a diet," Thomas told him, as he dug in. Ah, homegrown chicken was better than the chicken in the markets, to be sure. For one, it had more fat on it. For another, it smelled better. Or, maybe it was because of the spices?

"You will lose weight after I work you ragged. Eat, boy," the farmer pushed the bowl closer. Thomas took it, and handed it to Karl, who was in human form.

"Eat, Karl. You will be training tomorrow," Thomas told the slime. Karl blinked a couple of times, then began slurping the soup. After only one gulp, Karl made a face, and returned the bowl to Thomas.

"You like only fresh food, right?" Thomas mused. He took a cucumber from a bowl, and handed that to the slime next. Karl ate it without thinking too much on it.

"Now that soup has slime in it," Owen grumbled. "It will have to go to the pigs."

"Sorry, I keep forgetting he can't eat cooked food," Thomas smiled sheepishly, and continued to eat his food.

That night, as Thomas was laying in the barn, using Karl as a pillow, he couldn't help but feel lighter, somehow. Today had been different from most of the days he had experienced so far. Sure, the work was monotone, but he had had fun.

Now that he thought of it, being a receptionist had really sucked the life out of him. To constantly being able to see strong adventurers and to never be able to be one of them had been disheartening.

"We will become the very best, Karl," Thomas vowed. "And guilds will line up to offer us contracts."

Karl let out a puff of smoke from his maul, and closed his eyes.