Lord of Rot

Chapter 479: Chapter 424: Farming Magic for Just 10 Jinri

When Lisu Muma awoke from bed, the sun had already risen.

The temperature was beginning to climb in the region.

As she stretched, the thin blanket she had covered herself with the night before slipped away. Dressed only in a light nightgown, her curves were clearly outlined in the morning light.

A good night’s sleep had restored her depleted spirits from the past few days.

Arriving at the City Lord’s great hall, she heard voices chatting inside as soon as she pushed open the door. It sounded like Baron Leech and Tangkx Scholar. She had noticed Leech’s enthusiasm for Magic during dinner last night, but she hadn’t expected them to be engaged in another lively discussion so early this morning.

She pushed the door open gently, and the voices from within grew louder.

“So, according to the theory of bloodlines, if full-blooded siblings marry, their bloodline will be purer?”

‘Here is a scholar dedicated to the study of Magic,’ Leech thought, ‘not just a Caster who only knows how to use it. She understands the principles behind Magic, not just its application.’ He had specially invited Tangkx Scholar to breakfast for this reason.

‘Delving into Magic is the same as delving into my ‘golden finger’,’ he mused. ‘Maybe my true calling isn’t to be a lord, but a Grand Mage who can command the wind and rain.’

Tangkx Scholar was stirring the lingonberry jam in the cup before her with a spoon, a long loaf of bread in her other hand.

She would add a spoonful of lingonberry jam, then some honey, some gravy from the saucer, and cram in shredded ham wherever there was space.

This unholy combination left Leech dumbfounded.

But Tangkx took a large, satisfied bite, letting honey stick to her lips. Her tongue flicked out to catch the salty gravy that threatened to escape from the corner of her mouth.

As a scholar not in the service of any lord, and one who knew nothing of skills like herbology or alchemy, Tangkx was not well-off. She even had a group of young apprentices following her, their mouths wide open and waiting to be fed.

After arriving in Mama City, the Muma family seemed quite afraid of her, so she could only stay in her quarters and live off her savings. If not for Leech’s arrival, she probably would have had to leave Mama City soon to find somewhere else to live.

That was why, after Leech appeared, she had eagerly volunteered to help—on the condition that she be paid.

Sugar and salt were not things ordinary people could afford to eat casually, which explained her unrestrained eating style. Her palate had been bland for far too long.

Leech glanced at the noodles in his own bowl. The army had its own traveling cooks, which was how Leech was able to enjoy a bowl of noodles in the morning even while away from home.

The concept of noodles was very broad on the Lu Leiyi Continent. Anything made from flour and boiled in water was considered noodles. Authentic thin noodles, however, could only be found in Porcupine Territory and Iron Valley.

His breakfast was very simple: noodles, gravy, shredded ham, a fried egg, soybean sprouts specially germinated from soybeans, and lightly stir-fried potatoes that were slightly crispy.

Because supplies in Mama City were not plentiful, fresh vegetables were hard to come by. The soybean sprouts had been soaked and grown by the traveling cook himself.

Only the potatoes were locally available in Mama City, serving as a refreshing side dish.

He wasn’t so crass as to insist others eat the same food as him. Even within one country, different regions argued over salty versus sweet, to say nothing of the difference in tastes between two worlds. Besides, he was the one who had invited Tangkx to breakfast, so he had specially arranged for fried eggs, toast, and lingonberry jam to be prepared. If she didn’t want that, she could have honey instead.

Honey with bread was a timeless classic.

Watching Tangkx Scholar devour her food, Leech felt he had worried for nothing. She clearly had no issues with the food’s flavor.

He silently pushed the saucer of gravy in front of him over to Tangkx Scholar.

Only after eating half the long loaf did Tangkx Scholar finally pause. “That’s right. Full-blooded siblings are closer at a fundamental level. A child born to them can guarantee the purity of the family’s bloodline and will have higher innate talent. Perhaps you’ve heard of Queen Oriana? She once bore a child with her own brother.”

“Queen Oriana?” Leech’s mind was a jumble. He vaguely remembered that the current queen was named Oriana, owned ten thousand dresses, and that the number grew dramatically with each year’s various festivities.

But it was hard for him to hear any gossip about her.

‘After all, I’m just a country Baron.’

‘She actually did it with her brother, too…?’

“Not the current Queen Oriana,” Tangkx said, seemingly reading his thoughts from his expression. She corrected him, “It was her ancestor, a Queen Oriana from a bygone era. She was so beautiful that many kingdoms fought over her, and she married several kings one after another. Back then, she bore a son with her own brother. That boy possessed unparalleled talent, was able to master all sorts of combat techniques with incredible speed, and went on to destroy many nations.”

“And in the end?” Leech was certain this was some unrecorded, apocryphal history, likely a wild fabrication.

It was probably like the story of the White Snake. At first, she was a man-eating demon. Over time, she evolved into a seductive siren, and was finally adapted into the tale of Lady White Snake, who repaid a kindness and was eternally imprisoned under Leifeng Pagoda for love.

“The end? He died, of course.” Tangkx reached over, pulled the gravy Leech had passed her closer, and dipped her bread into it.

Honey and shredded ham mixed into the gravy, and a trail of drippings splattered across the table with her movement.

The sight made Leech’s eyelid twitch. He didn’t even care about her abrupt conclusion to the story anymore.

‘Next time, I can’t eat with her again,’ he thought. ‘Even if we have to, we’ll need a long table. The kind where she’s at one end, I’m at the other, and we need to call each other to talk.’

“There are many similar cases. There was once a pair of scholars, an uncle and his niece, who married. Their child was born with extremely high talent as a Caster and could fly before he could even talk.”

Tangkx didn’t miss a beat, talking and eating at the same time.

Leech didn’t ask what happened in the end. Before the emergence of the Magic Tide, no matter how talented those geniuses were, they couldn’t compare to even a random Caster of today.

The door opened, and Lisu Muma walked in.

Fortunately, plenty of breakfast had been prepared. Leech temporarily gave up on eating his noodles with meat sauce and joined Lisu Muma in eating bread.

Leech continued, “I’ve heard that scholars have ways to make land fertile, to make crops ripen overnight. That newly planted seeds can grow into towering, fruit-bearing trees in the blink of an eye, and that pigs can grow as fat as elephants.”

In truth, his own territory had already achieved something similar to a certain extent. For example, to make the land fertile, Leech could use the black dragon’s Decay Magic to improve the soil and even speed up the composting process. And while his pigs couldn’t grow as large as elephants, he had Life Herbs, which allowed them to grow healthily, preventing difficult births and stillbirths. The piglets were all healthy, as if they had received a magical vaccine. This ensured a sufficient supply of meat, allowing every household in his territory to eat meat regularly.

However, this was still a far cry from the miraculous Magic he imagined, so he was curious about the legend.

Having sat down and not daring to interrupt, Lisu Muma picked up a piece of bread. She looked up curiously after hearing what Leech said.

‘Is there really such a method?’

“Of course,” Tangkx said, lifting her head proudly. “But I have not mastered that method, because I am still at the lowest stage of research.”

Her words left Leech a little disappointed, but the mention of a “lowest stage” piqued his curiosity. “How many stages are there in total?”

“I divide Magic into two tiers,” Tangkx said. “The first tier is using Magic.”

Leech nodded, but he found this classification too broad. Using Magic to light a candle was ‘using Magic,’ but so was using Magic to burn down a house.

“At this tier, a Caster cannot create something from nothing, nor can they make something exist that shouldn’t.” As she spoke, she flicked a hand toward a candle on the table and silently recited a Spell.

The candle ignited, its flame dancing.

It was the “Kindle” Magic, which consumed one unit of Spiritual Power. Leech could cast it easily as well. He often used it to ignite cannons; it was a required skill for the Magic Apprentices of Porcupine Territory.

Lisu, who was closest to the candle, looked up at its flame, her thoughts unreadable.

Tangkx continued, “It may seem like I lit the candle, but in reality, the world permitted me to do so. If we were underwater, no matter how powerful my Magic was, I couldn’t light it.”

Leech was lost in thought. He asked, “Then, what about the higher tier?”

“Hmm,” Tangkx said thoughtfully. “Turning stone into gold. Or creating another sun.”

The two things seemed different, but Leech understood what she was trying to say.

Creation ex nihilo!

To interpret it in a very unmagical way, a stone contains no gold elements. No matter how you transform it, you can’t turn it into gold.

A sun can’t appear out of thin air, either.

It was roughly equivalent to, “God said, ‘Let there be light,’ and there was light.”

To reach the second tier, one would probably have to be one of the four gods descended to the mortal world. ‘Even a legendary-level being couldn’t do it, right?’

‘So, the magical farming I was hoping for—waving a Magic Wand and having the fields go crazy growing grain—is that really impossible?’

But Tangkx quickly offered her own take, “It can still be done. If you use Magic well, you can make crops grow quickly. However… I don’t believe a scholar who delves into knowledge should waste their energy on food production.”

She was right. A scholar should contribute their talents to more important fields, not waste them on a small plot of land.

‘But it should be fine for ordinary Casters, right?’ Leech thought. ‘They don’t need to learn too much. Just a single farming Magic spell would be enough.’

As long as his territory had enough food, Leech’s confidence would be even firmer than the barrel of a gun.

“Tangkx Scholar, have you mastered this type of Magic?”

“Of course.” She nodded. “I can teach it to you… for ten Jinri!”

“Done!”