The Harvest Landscape
In this world without modern tools, no one could survive on their own strength alone.
From building a house to moving even a single large rock out of a field, everything required the help of others.
Naturally, the same was true when it came time to harvest.
"Chief, I've been farming since I was a boy, but I've never seen crops grow this fast and produce such heavy heads."
"And look at that... the oats... whoa... I've never seen them bear so many grains before."
"Same here."
"Even though I'm seeing it with my own eyes, I can hardly believe it."
It was the season just on the cusp of summer, and our fields had reached the time for harvest.
While every field in the village was like this, ours in particular had an astonishing number of oat grains hanging from each stalk.
They were so heavy that the stems bowed low, nearly touching the ground.
People said the other fields were also producing far more grains than those in other regions.
"It's a relief the farming went so well," I said lightly.
The faces of the men who had come to help with the harvest changed at once.
"Chief, this is no small matter."
"Normally, you harvest three or four grains for every one you plant. These days, with the rain so scarce and the soil so poor, getting even three is considered a great success. In the village where I used to live, we were lucky to get one grain back for every one we sowed."
In that case, you'd have to plant every last grain as seed for the next year just to harvest the same amount again.
Countless people would starve to death.
Most of the people who had come here had experienced that kind of hardship, they said.
Hearing it put that way, I finally understood just how vital farming was in this world.
The men gazed at the oats with excitement in their voices.
"But... just look at that. It's..."
"I've never seen or even heard of a sight like this."
"We knew the spirits' blessing was powerful, but I never imagined it would be this astonishing."
The villagers' eyes turned toward Popcorn, who was fluttering through the air.
It seemed today was one of the days he chose to be visible.
Usually Popcorn would bask in everyone's admiration, but lately he'd been busy looking after the baby spirits.
Right now, he appeared to be... sliding around with them?
He would glide down one stalk and then another, and every so often Popcorn and the baby spirits would nibble at the grass together.
The surrounding spirits watched and laughed, then nibbled a little grass themselves.
Hey, you little rascals, stop eating the crops.
I wanted to shout it, but the spirits had been snacking on crops for ages. It wasn't anything new.
It was the same in everyone else's fields.
The spirits seemed to prefer the crops people had cultivated over wild weeds.
Maybe that was why the grains were so plentiful. I couldn't exactly scold them.
Of course, it might also be thanks to Pudding.
Every corner of our village had been touched by Pudding and the spirits, so it was impossible to say whose influence was greater.
Probably both.
Since we were all gathered together, it seemed Pudding had grown curious.
It wobbled over with a purururu sound, then climbed up my leg.
Its slightly cool body felt wonderfully refreshing in the warming weather.
Maybe that was why the children liked carrying Pudding on their heads.
If it grew a little bigger, they might even be able to wear it like a cooling hat.
I smiled at the thought, and Pudding stretched itself into a thin stalk.
The slender part, like a snail's eye stalk, rose all the way to my face and stared at me quietly.
It really looked as if an eye were attached to the tip, watching me.
To be honest, it looked a bit like an alien at times like this, and it was slightly creepy.
But Pudding seemed proud of its ability to stretch like that.
The village men each offered a comment as they watched Pudding.
"No matter how many times I see it, it's still fascinating."
"Do all slimes do this?"
"We're always grateful to you."
"It's such a relief that you catch the mice for us."
Pudding hadn't been limiting itself to the fields lately.
It wandered freely through the village hall and every house, apparently devouring small animals.
"Last time I saw it sprout four legs and run. It was incredibly fast."
When one man spoke, the others nodded, saying they'd seen it too.
"It can grow legs?"
When I looked surprised, the men laughed.
"It seems it doesn't do that in front of you, Chief."
"Maybe because the sight is a little grotesque."
Why, though?
Now that I thought about it, Pudding often showed me a new shape or ate something once, then never did it again in my presence.
It felt like it avoided doing anything I might dislike.
"...."
No way. Haha. I must be imagining it.
As if to deny my thoughts, one man tilted his head and said,
"For some reason, Pudding only ever shows you its prettiest sides, Chief."
Was that true?
I almost never expressed my feelings outwardly, yet it could read my mood?
The idea that Pudding possessed such delicate sensitivity felt strangely odd.
While we chatted like that, everyone gradually gathered.
"All right, let's get started."
At my words, the people surged toward the fields.
Today was the day we would all harvest our field together and, at the same time, examine my farming methods.
In this world, people normally just scattered seeds across the field without any spacing.
I'd found that strange from the beginning and raised an objection, so a few fields—including mine and Ji-geu's—had been planted with seeds placed at regular intervals after digging proper holes.
To me, who had lived on Earth, it was only natural, but here it was considered an unfamiliar, brand-new farming technique.
Although the villagers usually listened to me well, they had hesitated a great deal when it came to anything related to farming. Only a few who agreed with me had tried it as an experiment.
At the time I couldn't understand why they were so reluctant to try a better method, but after hearing about the seeds, I understood now.
Unlike other tasks that could be adjusted or corrected midway, once you planted crops, there was nothing to do but pray until harvest time.
You had to obtain both next year's seeds and food for your family from a single planting. If the yield was that low, it was only natural to hesitate before trying a new method that carried the risk of failure.
When your family's lives were on the line, caution was only sensible.
Besides, I was a complete beginner at farming, so it must have been hard for them to follow my suggestions without question.
Although my field produced far more grains than anywhere else, the fields that had followed the same spacing method—including Ji-geu's—were also yielding significantly more than the traditional way.
Even a rough visual estimate suggested the actual harvest would be even greater.
Once we harvested, threshed the grains, and confirmed the results, it looked like everyone would follow my method next time.
Already, some people were creating furrows in the newly cleared fields.
With more grains and faster-than-normal crop growth, it seemed we would be able to sustain ourselves without needing to expand the fields any further.
Pudding crawled up slowly and settled on my shoulder.
Even as I swung the sickle to cut the oats, it stayed firmly in place.
With the hand not holding the sickle, I gently stroked Pudding.
"You've been a huge help too. Thank you for your hard work."
Pudding's excrement seemed to be more than simple fertilizer.
The small stones in the field had become so soft that they crumbled easily when struck with a pickaxe.
Thanks to that, expanding the fields had become much easier.
When I stroked it, Pudding trembled happily with a pururu sound.
Popcorn, who had been playing with the baby spirits in the field, must have noticed. It flew over and clung to my nose.
"Pi-pi."
Was it jealous?
I laughed, and Popcorn held out a baby spirit toward me as if pleading for something.
It seemed to be saying that while I worked in the fields, it had been taking care of the baby spirits.
It wasn't exactly helping me directly, but I patted it a couple of times and said it had done well. That seemed to satisfy it.
"Pi-pi-pit!"
It thrust the baby spirit forward to show Pudding, then puffed its nose proudly.
We had spirits that brought abundance to crops and a slime that enriched the soil.
If only we had something that could devour the weeds that grew back the moment you turned your back after cutting them, everything would be perfect.
While I could manage the cultivated areas somehow, the weeds in the untilled open ground were truly a nightmare.
No exaggeration—cut them, turn around, and they'd already sprouted again.
It would be wonderful if something could just devour all those weeds in one go.
Well, that's probably asking too much.
My gaze suddenly drifted toward the flock of ducks in the distance.
They ate grass well, but they weren't nearly enough to clear this vast expanse of weeds.
I guess I'll have to cut them by hand after all.
A sigh escaped me involuntarily.
I stretched my back, then started moving my hands again after the brief rest.
The others were already far ahead, cutting away with steady strokes.
Since I was falling behind, I needed to hurry.
I was rushing in fear that Marguerite might see me lagging when children's voices rang out from afar.
"We've brought lunch!"
During harvest, we ate right there in the fields to save time.
When I turned my head, Marguerite and the village women were all coming over together.
"...."
My dignity as a husband was in tatters.
I hurriedly swung my sickle to cut more oats when Ji-geu shouted loudly.
"My dad is in first place! Mom! My dad is number one!"
Everyone burst into laughter.
I felt a little embarrassed.
When I glanced at Marguerite, she smiled brightly and waved her arms.
It seemed she didn't mind that her husband was slower at cutting than everyone else.
"...."
Thank goodness.
But next time, I was definitely going to be first.
My competitive spirit blazed up.
"Pi-pi?"
"Kkur kkur...?"
Popcorn and Pudding tilted their heads at the same time as if they found it strange.
At moments like this, they really seemed like fraternal twins.
The moment I thought that, Popcorn and Pudding suddenly started hitting each other.
Hey, why are you two fighting all of a sudden? These guys really don't get along.
"What did you say? Baldo the priest is missing? What on earth does that mean?"
The High Priest unconsciously raised his voice.
At the High Priest's sharp rebuke, the priest who had brought the news turned deathly pale.
"I am deeply sorry. Baldo has always taken his meals as simply as the lower priests. Lately he has remained in the prayer room at all times, and he had the apprentice priest who attends him bring his meals there. That is why we noticed his absence from the room so late."
"Then you're saying you don't even know when he left the temple!"
"...."
The priest shrank back and bowed his head.
Baldo was the priest who had first discovered the sprout of the World Tree.
He had also been present the moment the sprout disappeared.
Until the matter with Marguerite could be settled, the High Priest had essentially confined Baldo to his room under the pretext of investigating the sprout.
It wasn't that he felt no guilt.
Baldo was a gentle and deeply devout man.
Ever since the High Priest was a child, Baldo had cared for him almost like a father.
He was especially kind to the young priests.
If God truly watched over humans, He would surely punish someone who had locked up such a person for questioning.
Still, for the sake of his father the King, the High Priest had cast aside his conscience.
Because of that, the other priests had criticized the High Priest, but Baldo had willingly remained in his room, saying he wished to pray to God.
Even after the restriction on leaving had been lifted, he had continued to stay.
Could it be that was all an act to deceive the others?
The High Priest quietly reflected on Baldo's recent behavior.
The more he thought about it, the more every action seemed like nothing but groundwork for this very moment.
Suddenly his thoughts turned to the apprentice priest Baldo kept with him.
The boy was a descendant of those who could see spirits.
In the past, the royal family had gathered such people and conducted certain experiments, it was said.
What those experiments were, he did not know.
He only knew that such things had happened, and that children had been born as a result.
Baldo's apprentice was the child of one of those born from the experiments.
He had heard the boy possessed no special abilities.
But Father...
It was the King who had brought the child into the temple, saying his powers might awaken someday.
When he heard of this, Father would surely be disappointed.
He would receive a stern rebuke.
The High Priest's heart sank heavily.