Chapter 24: Sugar, Soap, and Dal Bati Dreams
[Day 21: 06:30 AM]
Kael opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling of his cabin.
His body felt perfectly fine. His muscles weren't sore. His joints didn't ache. That was the cheat of having Infinite Stamina. His physical vessel was always at 100 percent, ready to run a marathon or punch a boulder.
But his brain? His brain felt like it had been wrapped in thick, wet cotton and shoved into a blender.
He sat up slowly. The mental fatigue was heavy. Creating all those spice seeds yesterday and forcing the feral mana to accept them had taken a toll on his mind. He rubbed his temples with his fingers.
"Alfred," Kael mumbled, his voice rough. "What day is it?"
[It is Day 21, Sir. Time is 06:32 AM.]
"Right. Day 21." Kael looked at his hands. They were dirty, but the skin was unbroken. His high stats meant he didn't get blisters from the spade anymore. "Wait a minute. Day 21? I didn't do my daily draws for the last three days. I was too busy digging that stupid trench and messing with the spices."
[Correct. You currently have a backlog of nine random items waiting in your System Interface. Would you like to claim them now?]
"Yeah. Give me the loot. Just drop it on the floor here."
Kael watched as the air in the middle of his cabin shimmered. A blue grid of light appeared, and then objects started dropping onto the wooden floor with heavy thuds and clatters.
He got off the bed and walked over to the pile. He separated them by day in his head.
The Day 17 stuff was basic but good. A massive 10kg canvas bag of coarse Rock Salt. A heavy Iron Bucket that held about 10 liters. And a large, thick cotton towel.
"Okay, the bucket is a lifesaver," Kael said, picking it up by the thick iron handle. "I was carrying water in my hands and small bark cups. This changes everything."
Then he looked at the Day 18 loot. A high-grade whetstone in a wooden box. A thick wool blanket. And then... a glass jar.
It wasn't a small jar. It was massive. It looked like a small barrel made of thick glass, and it was filled to the brim with thick, golden amber liquid. 10 kilograms of pure, raw honey.
Kael just stared at it. His mouth instantly flooded with saliva. For three weeks, his only flavor was the salted meat. He hadn't had sugar, real sugar, since he left Earth.
He dropped to his knees right there on the floor. He didn't even look at the Day 19 loot yet. He popped the metal latch on the glass jar and pulled the lid open. The smell hit him—sweet, floral, and rich.
He didn't have a spoon handy, so he just shoved two fingers into the thick honey. He pulled them out, watching the golden syrup drip, and put them in his mouth.
Boom.
The sugar rush hit his brain so hard his eyes literally rolled back for a second. It was overwhelmingly sweet. It felt like an electric shock of pure dopamine firing right into his nervous system.
"Oh my god," Kael groaned, leaning forward with his forehead resting on the floor. "That is the best thing I have ever tasted in my entire life."
He took another finger-full. He sat there for five minutes just eating the honey, letting the sugar wake up his exhausted brain. It was a luxury. It was a piece of civilization.
Finally, he wiped his mouth on the back of his hand and looked at the rest of the pile. Day 19.
A large carton. He opened it and saw 100 small boxes of safety matches inside. "Perfect. It can be used for something."
Next to it was a long-handled steel ladle. Good for cooking.
And then he saw the last item. It was a simple, rectangular white brick wrapped in brown paper. He picked it up and smelled it. It didn't smell like lavender or pine. It just smelled clean. Unscented soap.
Kael looked down at himself. He was wearing the same clothes he had on when he got here. They were stiff with dried sweat, mud, and panther blood. His silver hair was matted into clumps. He smelled like a feral animal.
"Change of plans for the morning," Kael announced. He grabbed the iron bucket, the bar of soap, and the cotton towel. "I'm going to take a shower. A real one."
He walked out of the cabin, the heavy iron bucket swinging in his hand. He crossed the fifty-meter yard. He didn't lower the bridge this time. He just walked past the intersection and headed north toward the river line that fed his bamboo pipes.
When he got to the water, he stripped down. The air was chilly, but he didn't care. He waded into the river. The water was freezing cold, but it felt amazing.
He used the bucket to dump water over his head. Then he took the soap. He scrubbed his hair, working up a thick white lather. He scrubbed his arms, his chest, his legs. He watched as the water around him turned dark grey and brown, washing away three weeks of dirt and survival grime.
He rinsed off, dunking his whole body under the fast-moving water. When he came up, he felt like a completely new person. He waded out of the river, shivering slightly, and grabbed the cotton towel.
The feeling of soft, dry cotton on clean skin was almost as good as the honey. He dried his hair, scrubbing it until it stood up in messy silver spikes.
"Alright," Kael said, looking at the rising sun. He felt human again. Clean, full of sugar, and ready to work. "Time to plants the other things."
[08:00 AM]
He dressed in his clean clothes—he had washed them in the river too and wrung them out with his massive strength until they were mostly dry.
He walked down to the farm and lowered the pivot bridge. He stood in the center of the 1.5-acre grid. Block 5 was planted. But Block 5 was just spices. Spices don't keep you alive. They just make being alive bearable.
"I need carbs and I need protein," Kael told himself. He looked at the empty dirt of Block 1 in the North-West corner.
"Alfred, if I plant this whole 9,500 square feet with potatoes, I'm going to have thousands of pounds of potatoes. That's too much. And for now I also didn't have a way to preserve them and They'll rot before I can eat them all."
[Observation is accurate, Sir. A monoculture of that scale is unnecessary for a single cultivator. Splitting the block is more efficient.]
"Right. So, half potatoes for Block 1. The other half... I need wheat. If I'm going to make Dal Bati for my first proper meal in this world I need.....flour."
Dal Bati is one of his many favorite dishes from India. It is also the all-time favorite dish of the Indian state Rajasthan. It is made of hard wheat rolls that are baked over cow dung or charcoal fire. The rolls are then cracked open and soaked with spicy dal and a lot of ghee. Just thinking about it makes his mouth water.
He walked over to the center of the field to start the creation process. He sat down cross-legged on the dirt.
He didn't need to panic about his Essence. He had 5,000 points. Essence was the purest, highest form of mana. It didn't take a lot of it to make a seed. But modifying millions of seeds for a whole field? That would take a chunk.
He held out his right hand.
"Let's start with The...potatoes."
He visualized small, brown seed potatoes with little white 'eyes' sprouting out of them. But Earth potatoes were weak. The ground here was too damp; they would turn to mush.
He pushed his golden Essence into his palm. He focused on the concept of 'Density'. He made the cellular structure of the potato tighter, harder to penetrate by water and rot.
Pop.
A pile of fifty seed potatoes dropped into the dirt in front of him. They looked normal, but they felt heavier, like small stones.
"Okay, now the wheat."
He closed his eyes again. Wheat was fragile. The stalks snap in the wind. And the Silent Death Forest had some crazy storms. He visualized the golden grains of wheat. He pushed more Essence out, weaving a modification into the genetic code. He made the stalks thicker, giving them a structural integrity closer to bamboo than grass.
Shhhhh.
A golden cascade of wheat seeds poured from his hand, piling up into a small mound on the ground.
He checked his Essence pool. It was sitting at 75%. Not bad at all.
"Now for Block 3. The Dal."
He moved his focus. He needed two types of lentils to make a proper mix.
First, Chana Dal. Bengal Gram. He visualized the split, yellow chickpeas. He loved Chana Dal because not only could he cook it, but if he ground it up, it became Besan (gram flour). Besan meant pakoras. Besan meant thick gravies.
Then, Urad Dal. Black Gram. He visualized the small, black, oval beans. He knew that if he washed them and took the black skin off, they became Split White Lentils inside. Perfect for a rich, heavy dal.
"Alfred, Earth legumes put nitrogen back into the soil. But nitrogen isn't the problem here. The feral mana is. Can I modify the dal to eat the ambient mana?"
[Yes, Sir. By altering their root nodes, you can create a 'Mana-Fixation' trait. The lentils will pull chaotic mana from the air and push it into the soil in a stabilized form. It will essentially act as a magic fertilizer for the rest of your farm.]
"Perfect."
Kael poured his Essence out again. He visualized the yellow Chana and the black Urad. He forced the modification into them. He felt a slight strain in his mind, a pulling sensation behind his eyes. Modifying the energy-absorption of a plant was harder than just making it tough.
When he opened his eyes, he had two massive piles of dal sitting on the dirt.
He checked his Essence. 40%.
He was down past half. His mind felt a bit foggy, like he had stayed up studying for a test for three days straight. But he wasn't empty. He was just tired.
"Good enough," Kael muttered. "Time to put them in the dirt."
[11:00 AM]
Kael grabbed his heavy granite spade and walked to Block 1.
He split the 9,500 square foot area down the middle. Left side for potatoes, right side for wheat.
Potatoes don't just get thrown on the ground. They need depth. The tubers need loose dirt to expand into. If the soil is hard, the potatoes come out small and deformed.
He started digging trenches. He made them about eight inches deep and spaced them three feet apart. He walked backward, dragging the heavy spade, scooping the dirt out and piling it neatly on the sides of the trench.
The sun was getting hot. Even though his muscles weren't tired, he still sweated. He used the new cotton towel he had tucked into his belt to wipe his face.
Once the trenches were dug, he went back and grabbed his pile of modified seed potatoes. He carried them in his new iron bucket.
He walked down the trench. Every twelve inches, he placed a seed potato in the bottom of the ditch. He didn't just drop them. He made sure the 'eyes'—the little white sprouts—were pointing straight up toward the sky. That was where the stem would grow. If he put them upside down, the plant would have to waste energy growing around itself.
After he placed them all, he used the trowel to pull the dirt from the sides back over the potatoes, covering them with about four inches of loose soil.
"When the green stems pop up," Kael talked to himself to stay focused, "I'll have to come back and 'hill' them. Drag more dirt up around the stem so they make more potatoes along the buried stalk."
It was tedious, repetitive work. But every time he dropped a potato, he thought about eating French fries, or Aloo Sabzi, and it kept him moving.
[02:00 PM]
Half of Block 1 was done. Now for the wheat.
Wheat was different. You don't plant wheat one by one unless you have ten years to waste. You broadcast it.
Kael filled the iron bucket with the golden wheat seeds. He walked to the edge of the right side of Block 1. He reached into the bucket, grabbed a handful of seeds, and threw them in a wide, sweeping arc across the dirt.
Fwshhhh.
The seeds scattered evenly over the topsoil. He walked forward, stepping carefully, and threw another handful. He kept his rhythm steady. Step, grab, throw. Step, grab, throw. He made sure not to throw them too thick, or they would choke each other out trying to get sunlight.
When the ground was covered, he didn't leave them on top. Birds or insects would just eat them. He took a heavy tree branch full of pine needles from the edge of the forest and dragged it behind him, walking over the planted area. The dragging branch acted like a rake, mixing the top layer of dirt just enough to cover the seeds lightly.
"Block 1 is secure," Kael said, leaning on the branch. He took a long drink of water from his bucket.
[04:30 PM]
He moved to Block 3. Center-West. This was the protein block.
Lentils needed to be planted in drills—straight, shallow lines.
He used a bamboo pole to draw straight lines in the dirt, about an inch deep and eighteen inches apart. He wanted to be able to walk between the rows to pull weeds later.
He split the block again. Half for the yellow Chana Dal, half for the black Urad Dal.
He walked down the rows, dropping the seeds in by hand. He pinched them between his fingers, dropping one every few inches. His fingers were stained black from the mud, the dirt getting packed under his fingernails.
The repetitive bending over, standing up, and dropping seeds was mind-numbing. The forest around him was quiet, except for the constant hum of the Singing Spikes in the moat.
He plant the yellow Chana. Then He plant the black Urad.
By the time he covered the last seed with dirt, the sun was sitting right on the tops of the trees, casting long orange shadows across his grid.
Kael stood up and stretched his back. He looked at his system interface. His Essence was sitting at 32%.
His brain felt heavy, like it wanted to shut down and sleep for a week. The mental toll of guiding the modifications and the sheer boredom of the repetitive planting had drained his focus.
But he looked at the farm.
Block 5 was spices.
Block 1 was potatoes and wheat.
Block 3 was two kinds of dal.
The field wasn't just dirt anymore. It was a massive, sleeping pantry.
He picked up his empty iron bucket and his spade. He crossed the pivot bridge, pulling it back up behind him so the fortress was locked for the night.
He walked up the fifty-meter path to his cabin. He was tired, but he felt a deep, solid sense of accomplishment.
"Tomorrow," Kael said out loud as he walked into the cabin and looked at the pile of river stones he had gathered. "Tomorrow I don't dig. Tomorrow I build a proper kitchen. No more cooking in the dirt. I need counters and a real oven for when this food comes out of the ground."
He set his tools down against the wooden wall. His stomach gave a loud, angry growl. The honey was great for his brain, but his body needed real protein. He grabbed a chunk of salted panther meat and headed out to the fire pit to make dinner.
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Author's Note:
Hey everyone, I have a quick question for you.
I was reading another novel recently, and the author uploaded character reference images whenever a new side character was introduced, or when the MC got a major look change. It helped give a clear picture of the cast.
I am thinking about doing this for Kael, Noir, Tess, and the new characters we will meet in the future arcs.
I want to know what you guys prefer:
Do you want character art posted at the end of the chapters so you know exactly what they look like?
Or do you prefer to rely entirely on the text and your own imagination?
Let me know in the comments. If you guys want it, I will start getting the character designs put together. If not, we keep it strictly text. Your call. And I also add keal's before and after his transformation pic's as semple as how I upload the pics. Let me know how it looks like.
The pics of keal's before and after his transformation.