Sellen wasn't very interested in what Dwalin had to say, so after Arthur, Fili, and Kili bid farewell to Sellen, Dwalin led them to the land designated as a farm.
Two Godrick soldiers, clad in armor and armed with brass shields and longswords, patrolled along the field ridges, observing their surroundings vigilantly.
On this meticulously cultivated, fertile black soil, new sprouts had broken through the earth. Their tiny green shoots shimmered with vitality under the Erdtree's radiance, each leaf emitting a faint glow.
Three dwarves, each wearing a worn straw hat, crouched at the edge of the field, their eyes fixed on these newly emerged sprouts, their gazes filled with disbelief and anticipation.
The dwarves' beards trembled slightly with their astonished gasps, and their rough palms gently caressed the soil around the sprouts, as if confirming the reality of it all.
The air was filled with the fragrance of earth and the freshness of spring, and the dwarves exchanged whispers from time to time.
"By Durin, why do I feel like these sprouts are even bigger than when I just saw them?" a dwarf with a long red beard rubbed his eyes, exclaiming in disbelief.
The other two dwarves, both with broad backs—one with a long, pale beard and the other with features similar to the older dwarf beside him—
heard the red-bearded dwarf's words and nodded in agreement, indicating that he had not been mistaken.
Arthur had just arrived and overheard their conversation.
If it weren't for the voice not matching, Arthur would have almost thought Gloin had secretly come over.
After all, most of these dwarves looked similar; except for those like Fili, Kili, and Thorin who were particularly handsome, Arthur could generally only rely on beard length, color, hair, and speaking voice to distinguish between the dwarves.
Dwalin strode over to the three dwarves, letting out a hearty laugh: "Mister Arthur is here. You can ask him any questions you have directly."
The three dwarves immediately stood up and bowed in unison to Arthur: "Lord Arthur."
Then, after straightening up, they turned to Fili and Kili: "Good morning, Lord Fili, Lord Kili."
Fili and Kili, with smiles on their faces, returned the greeting to the three dwarves, then nimbly stepped aside, gesturing for them not to forget what they needed to say to Arthur.
While they were greeting each other, Arthur had already surveyed the fields.
The fields were planted separately according to crop type, such as potatoes, carrots, corn, and so on. Next to each field, the dwarves had specially erected a wooden sign, on which was written in ornate common script what was planted in the field, to prevent Arthur's people from getting confused.
Among the three dwarves, it was still the red-bearded one who stepped forward and asked directly in his deep voice: "Mister Arthur, did you cast a spell on this field? Otherwise, these seeds shouldn't have sprouted so quickly. At least, uh, it should have taken at least another 3 days for the planted corn seeds to sprout. But it's only been one night, and, and even the other crop seeds have sprouted."
After speaking, the red-bearded dwarf paused, then continued: "What surprises me even more is that all the planted seeds successfully sprouted. This is a miracle I have never seen in my life as a farmer. My goodness, this is a one hundred percent germination rate, and there are no diseased seedlings."
Arthur was not too surprised after hearing this.
After all, this was under the Erdtree's radiance; improving soil quality and promoting plant growth were merely byproducts of the Grace for the Erdtree.
Arthur did not hide it, but instead pointed to the Erdtree far away inside Morne Castle's castle behind him and said with a smile: "I did not cast any magic on the fields; it's simply that a little Grace bestowed by the Erdtree caused these crop seeds to become like this."
The red-bearded dwarf followed the direction of Arthur's finger and murmured: "Oh, I had forgotten about the Sacred Tree you brought from your homeland. It is truly so miraculous…"
There are so many miraculous things about the Erdtree. If I told you that accepting the Grace would also significantly extend your lifespan, I wonder what you would think.
Arthur said silently in his heart.
He had no intention of speaking about this matter. Arthur was well aware of the short-lived races' desire and madness for longevity.
On the way here, these enthusiastic dwarves had naturally told him about the other races in Middle-earth, namely Humans and Elves.
He knew that Elves were an immortal race, but most Humans in Middle-earth were short-lived, with lifespans of less than a hundred years. (Note 1)
Arthur keenly perceived that if the news that the Grace could extend human lifespan, even to near immortality, were to spread, it would certainly cause a lot of unnecessary trouble.
He pulled his thoughts back and looked at the red-bearded dwarf gently, asking: "Based on your experience, how long do you think these crops will take to mature?"
"Oh, I'm really not sure about that, Mister Arthur. Because their growth rate has already exceeded my expectations, my past experience is no longer useful," the red-bearded dwarf replied somewhat awkwardly.
Arthur nodded, also indicating understanding.
Then he looked at Fili and suggested: "Fili, why don't you stay here for a few more days? I'd like to ask them to help record and observe data before the first crops mature. With this data, it will be easier for my people to reclaim new land."
Fili nodded cheerfully: "Of course, Teacher. Besides, Kili and I also want to learn more about Prayers from you and Lady Sellen. Your suggestion is more than I could ask for."
Hmm?
Dwalin raised an eyebrow and glanced at the two when he heard Fili's address to Arthur, but he didn't say much.
The red-bearded dwarf then spoke: "Besides the fields, there are also some rather special situations at the farm. Mister Arthur, I suggest you go and see them too."
Arthur nodded and, led by Dwalin, came to another part of the farm.
What happened at the farm was similar to the fields; the animals, which had been somewhat lethargic due to long-distance transport, quickly recovered their spirits, and even the two dairy cows produced fresh milk this morning.
"The Erdtree truly amazes me. I just harvested some golden-colored grass yesterday afternoon and mixed it with the fodder we brought, and the result is what you see now," said the dwarf responsible for raising dairy cows, chuckling as he carried a wooden bucket with a milky smell. The bucket was full of freshly squeezed milk, and the surface of the liquid even shimmered with specks of golden light.
The other two dwarves, one was in charge of sheep, and the other was in charge of chickens.
The dwarf in charge of sheep had a black beard. He said: "It's the same here. Yesterday, I tried mixing these golden grasses with ryegrass and clover to feed the sheep. At first, the sheep thought I was feeding them dry grass and even bleated at me, but after their first bite, they even started specifically picking out the golden grass to eat. This morning, I found that some of the wool on their bodies had started to turn the color of gold from the root. Mister Arthur, believe me, this quality and golden wool will definitely sell for a good price outside!"
Arthur smiled and nodded, then looked at the dwarf in charge of chickens, waiting for him to speak.
"Uh, my chickens haven't changed much. They haven't produced golden milk, nor have they grown golden feathers. Besides being a bit more energetic, there really aren't any other changes." The dwarf in charge of the chickens stroked his thick brown beard, a hint of awkwardness on his face.
The dwarf in charge of the cows said, "Maybe you fed them the same feed from the Blue Mountains yesterday? Things like bean cakes and crushed peanuts."
The dwarf in charge of the chickens nodded, "That's for sure. After all, chickens don't specifically eat grass. Moreover, some hens are for laying eggs, so it's impossible to feed them that. If I wasn't afraid you'd say it was wasteful, I'd even want to chop up some minced meat and mix it into the chicken feed. That way, the eggs they produce would be of even better quality!"
Arthur chatted with them for a few more sentences, but because he truly couldn't understand what the dwarves were talking about later, he found an excuse and left.
Anyway, he was clear that as long as both the crops planted and the animals raised thrived under the Grace of the Erdtree, that was all that mattered.
Time passed quickly, and a week flew by.
During this week, there were no unintelligent orc attacks; instead, good news first came from the fields.
The seeds planted a week ago had all matured.
In the fields, tomatoes were as red and translucent as gemstones, brimming with juice; wheat was golden and plump, its heavy ears seeming to whisper the joy of a bountiful harvest; corn cobs grew stout, appearing exceptionally appealing wrapped in their green husks, with a golden hue.
Potatoes and carrots were even more unusual, so plump they seemed to hum with growth, their size two circles larger than the varieties from the Blue Mountains.
Arthur stood on the field path, and everywhere his gaze landed, there was the joyful laughter of the dwarves. They held heavy fruits in their hands, their faces beaming with undisguised excitement and satisfaction. These hardworking dwarves, though their faces and beards were covered in dirt, their eyes sparkled with the pure joy of harvest.
Furthermore, the dwarves also told Arthur that the fertility of the land had not diminished due to the rapid growth of the crops and could continue to be planted.
Kili held a bright red, juicy tomato in his hand, took a bite, and the sweet and sour juice burst in his mouth.
"Delicious!" Kili's eyes lit up.
Fili also held a tomato larger than his palm and happily asked Arthur, "Teacher Arthur, can I take a few of these fruits back for Uncle Thorin to taste?"
Arthur nodded with pleasure, "I have no reason to refuse, Fili."
"Praise the Erdtree ~" The dwarves in the field gathered in a circle and sang.
In Arthur's heart, the worry that had been hanging over him about insufficient food, accompanied by the laughter of the dwarves, gradually settled down.
Then, two more days passed, and good news also came from the farm.
To be precise, it was good news from the dwarf who raised chickens.
The radiance of the Erdtree and the sun shone together on the lush fields, and golden wheat waves gently undulated in the breeze. The farm was nestled in this picturesque scenery, and in the chicken coop beside the small wooden house, white-feathered chickens ruffled their feathers, leisurely and at ease.
Those plump, fluffy white-feathered chickens scrambled to peck at the feed trough, their beaks making crisp sounds as grains fell.
Suddenly, a hen clucked, and the dwarf in charge of the chickens stopped his work and moved closer.
The hen strutted, head held high, and from beneath its wide wings, it dropped an egg. The eggshell, under the sunlight, emitted a faint golden glow.
"Durin above, little darling, you actually laid a golden egg!"
The dwarf carefully took the golden egg from the chicken coop and ran towards the soldiers stationed outside the farm.
When Arthur received the soldier's notification and rushed to the farm, the bottom of a small wooden basin was already filled with golden-shelled eggs.
And the dwarf in charge of the chickens was already using the stove in the farm to start a fire and fry eggs. On the ground beside his feet were two broken and discarded eggshells.
"Oh, Sir Arthur. Although I've said this many times, I still want to say, the Erdtree is truly amazing. Would you like to try some? These eggs taste excellent." The dwarf saw Arthur arrive, greeted him, and then accurately tossed the fried egg from the frying pan onto a nearby plate.
Arthur shook his head and instead asked, "I've already had breakfast. Do you think there's anything different about these compared to normal eggs?"
The dwarf first let out a burp as he extinguished the stove, showing an embarrassed expression, then rubbed his hands and said, "Hmm, as for the taste, there's actually no difference from regular eggs. But after eating these golden eggs, I always feel warm all over, and I feel very full."
Saying that, he burped again.
"Burp ~ You see, Sir Arthur. I only ate two eggs, and I'm already burping like this. Although I ate quite a bit this morning, burp."
The dwarf said, handing over the fried egg in the bowl, which smelled of soy sauce and salt and pepper, along with an unused pair of wooden chopsticks.
"I really can't eat any more; I'll leave this for you to eat. Some feelings are more direct when you experience them yourself."
Arthur nodded.
He took the wooden chopsticks, picked up the fried egg, and just as he put it into his mouth, before he could even savor the deliciousness of the fried egg, he heard Kenneth Haight's somewhat hurried shout.
"Tanes, Your Majesty, is Tanes, Your Majesty here!"
Arthur walked out of the farm kitchen and saw Kenneth Haight standing panting by the farm's chicken coop. He quickly swallowed the fried egg in his mouth and said, "I'm here. What happened, Kenneth?"
Kenneth Haight supported his lower back, took a few breaths, and then said, "Tanes, Your Majesty, a well-equipped cavalry unit suddenly appeared outside Haight's Fort."
"Cavalry? Is it orcs again?" Arthur's expression suddenly became serious.
The dwarf in the kitchen heard Arthur and Kenneth's conversation outside the door, his eyes darted, and he quietly crouched by the doorway to eavesdrop.
Kenneth Haight repeatedly shook his head, "No, not orcs. It's a group of humans who are all very handsome and elegant, but their ears are long and pointed. The man leading them introduced himself as 'Elrond,' Lord of Rivendell. Under Gandalf's introduction, he wishes to meet the Lord of the Erdtree."
Elves, actually?
Arthur nodded and replied, "I will go with you now."
Note 1: In the Middle-earth worldview, the lifespan of Edain, Middle Men, and Dark Men is approximately 80 years.
The Dúnedain have a relatively longer lifespan, living over 200 years, as exemplified by Aragorn.
Middle Men and Dark Men are classifications used by the Dúnedain for other human races.
Humans who are "not enemies, but not so noble" are Middle Men, while "human peoples ruled by two generations of Dark Lords, Morgoth or Sauron" are Dark Men.
However, after many Dúnedain intermarried with Middle Men, the lifespan of their children gradually decreased to around 200 years.