Defending the Lord's Rye Field

[You have entered the Lord's rye field.]

The moment Vulcan set foot in the rye field, a cascade of notification windows popped up. But he didn't need to scrutinize each one. He already knew the contents inside out.

The only difference from a standard monster bird chase quest was that it failed and auto-terminated at 50% destruction instead of 70%. Probably because it was the lord's rye field—they were treating it more preciously.

Vulcan quickly waved his hand to dismiss the windows, then double-checked the rye field boundaries marked in his vision.

"Blessing of Strength!"

Before the monster birds appeared, he sprinted at full speed toward a pre-scouted spot. If luck was bad, they might dive right away, but early on, a big shout would probably scare them off. He'd also chosen nighttime for this quest to thin their numbers. Random or not, he'd learned from past quests that monster birds moved sluggishly at night.

"Alright, first one here... Install!"

Upon reaching his destination, Vulcan pulled something enormous from his subspace pocket.

"Scarecrow Guardian!"

It was none other than a scarecrow—a massive one Vulcan had to crane his neck to look up at, bursting from the subspace pocket. No way it should've fit in a front pocket, but subspace was a gateway to another dimension, so size didn't matter as long as it fit within the total capacity.

Compared to a normal scarecrow, it was dozens of times bigger, heavy enough that even Vulcan could barely lift it—but that was unavoidable. To handle monster birds, this was necessary.

It was a new type of structure: a giant scarecrow infused with the life guardian crafting technique. To cut costs and weight, the frame was wood reinforced with durability potions to rival metal hardness. The cross-shaped upper body was clad in crude armor—or rather, metal chunks shaped like armor.

'Even with more time, making proper armor for that would've been overkill.'

It wasn't really armor; it was a vessel to hold and protect the life orb.

"Electric Armor, activate."

It also served as a medium for the Magic Imprint: Electric Armor. A minor spell that zapped targets on contact with a stinging static shock—not high-level, just 1-circle magic. That was the limit Vulcan could reliably imprint right now. He could've pushed to 2-circle with effort, but no suitable spells came to mind, and it would've taken too long. This one was low-mana, sustainable for 24 hours non-stop.

"Now chase off every approaching monster bird."

Kuwing—

At Vulcan's command, the Scarecrow Guardian's eyes gleamed as it activated. Its proficiency was low, so it couldn't match the natural fluidity or command variety of one made by a master life mage like Kapus, but it could handle basic orders and movements.

Walking would trample the rye, but spinning its upper body in place like a post fulfilled its scarecrow role perfectly. Its simplicity might invite mockery or attacks from birds, but a metal fist or Electric Armor zap would scare them off. Why risk it when other fields were easier pickings?

"Please earn your keep."

Its combat power wasn't top-tier, but the investment was hefty, so Vulcan eyed it prayerfully. Wood was cheap, the body cheap dulcopper, but the mana stones for operation and Electric Armor magic book weren't.

He'd picked the cheapest mana stones since it only needed 24+ hours, but they still stung.

"Alright, before they swarm, let's set up the others."

He wasn't limited to one. Dividing the field by guardian range, he installed more. Destruction ticked up slightly each time, but totaled under 1%.

"Now for this... Heave-ho!"

But Vulcan's prep didn't end there. His goal was overachievement and extra rewards—not just defense, but a bigger play.

It was for hunting monster bird flocks. Culling their numbers should count as overachievement, right? Hence the giant bird-catching nets: oversized fish scoops aimed skyward, placed at the field's four edges to snare side approaches, not vertical dives.

Monster birds couldn't reverse, so once caught, they'd thrash helplessly. For insurance, he'd slathered adhesion potions alchemically. They'd stick like flies on web.

'My blood money... Sob.'

To bear unknown weights, poles were solid metal chunks—pricey, but worth it for the quest profits.

- Stingy as always, yet you splurge on this trivial stuff.

"Tch. No choice. Nailing this could get me what I want in one shot."

- No idea what you're on about, but make it ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠work. Crude, but effective against crude foes.

For now, it was a minor quest, so Tud was puzzled but shrugged it off. This was just a stepping stone; ace it, and he could skip to his target quest.

'Lord's rye field—plenty of potential.'

Temple start, but Vulcan aimed for the lord. Land that quest, earn favor for a prime spot, and level-up was inevitable. He'd ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠surged ahead before despite the worst slot.

- They're coming.

Lost in memories, late night saw the first flock. Not many at night, but ripe fields drew them.

'Let's see.'

Early yet—a shout would scatter them. But it might wake others, and he needed to test his setups, so he watched.

"Chijijack?!"

Flap flap!

Debut was rocky. Over half snagged in nets on arrival, flapping futilely.

"Chiaek!!"

Splat!!

Higher fliers fared worse. Dodging Scarecrow Guardian punches, unlucky ones flew off smashed. He worried about trampling rye, but they sailed outside—light bodies or mighty punches? Electric Armor stiffened them mid-twist for clean hits.

"Phew. Thought we were done."

Other crops toppled—whatever. As long as not his quest field. Destroy elsewhere? Fine, unless deliberate sabotage.

'This is safe.'

Daylight hordes? Manageable now.

"Time to hunt?"

Defense secured sans Vulcan. Now overkill hunt for levels.

Ting- Ting-

Next: shoot arrows at netted birds. Most had potion vial slots, but some plain for this, wired for remote retrieval.

"Reusable like this."

Item Master boosted bow mastery rank too—solid damage sans skills. Not one-shots, but bursts worked. Yank wire, repeat—net birds grayed fast. Corpses vanished eventually, lightening nets.

"Combat class? Sweating buckets chasing 'em. Heh!"

Wanted Serpent of Despair stabs from atop poles, but too big, sticky potions—risky. So arrows.

Mechanical draw, retrieve, repeat—flock dwindled. Night passed, dawn, noon—unchanged.

Vulcan's scarecrow-and-net defense lasted three full days. Shairun wanted 24 hours, but knowing max overachievement was triple, he held off declaring end.

Other users? Exhausted wrecks after three sleepless days. Vulcan? Glowing, well-fed and rested.

"...Why no 'perfectly'?"

- Misread conditions? If you're idling, buy chocolate! Been out an hour!!

His face soured. Triple was 72 hours—filled, yet only "splendidly," like day two. Too easy? Tools not "his power"? Nah—crafted with his skills.

Or more than triple? 'Make rye grow properly—harvest time?'

Face crumpled. No way? Sustainable with occasional culls and mana refills, but endless wait sucked. Low exp from birds now anyway.

"Just spray pesticide?"

No pesticides in Gloria Saga, but Dragon Eye showed growth potions—maybe?

"...Huh?"

Glancing wearily, odd text caught his eye.

- Tsk tsk. Finally noticed? Dense as ever.

Tud chided, implying wasted effort.

Vulcan gaped. Famous fertile Raseu rye contaminated? Not bird stress—growth environment issue.

"Poison plot?"

- ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Possible. But contaminating specific spots past temple eyes? Hard.

Suspicious for lord's private field, but Tud doubted limited scope. Curses needed, and Radin temple ties would've caught it—especially with bishop-level here. If Shairun came as planned, busted instantly.

"Maybe a connection."

A quest he'd eyed linked here.

"Bigger deal than thought."

This minor quest might thread a major storyline—and rewards to match.