A new input box appeared, a cursor blinking patiently.
Sienna nearly laughed aloud with relief.
“So that’s how it works.”
She immediately thought of the number.
5000 sq.
meters.
The value appeared in the box automatically, and beside it, the unit was displayed.
A soft chime sounded.
[Please select improvement methods]
[Spatial Earth]
[Spatial Water]
[Custom]
Sienna did not dare waste time.
Mirella was already staring at her with an expression halfway between hope and concern, and if she remained frozen any longer, the poor woman might truly conclude that her young mistress had lost her mind.
Sienna selected [Custom].
Another input box appeared.
[Ding!]
[Please enter the ratio of Spatial Earth and Spatial Water]
Without hesitation, Sienna entered the formula she had painstakingly tested.
Spatial Water: 6
Spatial Earth: 4
Fortunately, she only had to think about the values.
Had she needed to gesture each number into place, the entire household would likely have tied her to a chair and called for a healer.
When the final value was entered, the interface vanished.
For one breathless moment, nothing happened.
The field was silent.
The wind whispered over the black wasteland.
Somewhere behind them, a loose rope tapped softly against a wooden marker.
Then, with a faint humming sound, a tiny distortion appeared in the air beside Sienna, as if the fabric of space itself had been pierced by an unseen needle.
A palm-sized hole opened.
From that hole poured a stream of gray mist-like matter.
At first glance, it did not resemble soil or water.
It looked like dust, smoke, and moonlight woven together into something neither fully solid nor fully liquid.
The strange substance drifted downward and settled over the marked 5000 sq.
meters of land.
No more.
No less.
Not a single grain crossed the measured boundaries.
And then, before the eyes of everyone present, the black earth began to change.
The greasy, oil-like darkness faded.
The hard, lifeless surface softened.
The color lightened little by little until the cursed land transformed into rich, fertile soil the color of deep forest earth after rain.
The border between the transformed land and the surrounding black wasteland was so sharp that it looked as though a giant blade had cut the world in two.
On one side lay death.
On the other, life.
Sienna’s breath caught.
“This…”
For a moment, she did not move.
Then she slowly knelt, her boots pressing into the freshly restored earth.
She reached down, scooped up a handful of soil, and let it run through her fingers.
The texture was soft and moist.
The scent rising from it was the smell of true farmland, warm and living, carrying the promise of seeds and harvests.
Her fingers trembled.
This was not an illusion.
This was real.
The dead land had been revived.
“Hahahaha….”
A laugh burst from her lips, bright and unrestrained.
It was the laughter of someone who had been wandering through darkness and had suddenly seen the first ray of dawn.
“We did it,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.
“We truly did it.”
If they had fertile land, then they could plant crops.
If they could plant crops, then they could eat.
If they could eat, then House Vale would live.
And if House Vale lived, then one day it could rise again.
Meanwhile, her laughter broke the spell over everyone else.
Until then, the others had stood frozen, unable to comprehend what they were witnessing.
Now, as if awakened from a dream, they rushed forward.
One by one, they dropped to their knees and grabbed handfuls of the transformed soil.
The slaves were the first to understand.
Most of them had been farmers before misfortune and debt had reduced them to chains.
They knew soil the way a sailor knows the sea or a blacksmith knows iron.
The moment they touched the earth, they knew.
This land was real and not merely ordinary farmland.
It was better than any soil they had ever worked.
*Woooo*
A roar of joy erupted from the crowd.
The slaves shouted, laughed, and wept.
Though they wore slave marks upon their foreheads, they were not fools.
They knew what it meant to be brought to the Black Soil Wasteland.
They had believed they were being sent to a slow death.
Yet now, before their eyes, barren land had become fertile.
Hope had taken shape beneath their feet.
Mirella sank to her knees, clutching a handful of soil to her chest.
Tears streamed freely down her face.
She had never farmed a day in her life, but she understood exactly what this meant.
This was not merely earth.
This was House Vale’s future.
This was survival.
This was the answer to the desperate prayers she had whispered into the darkness night after night.
Meanwhile, Tiara stood motionless, tears gathering in her eyes.
Everything had happened so quickly and so unexpectedly that her mind struggled to keep pace.
One moment, she had been standing in a wasteland.
The next, she was standing in a field of possibility.
Her vision blurred.
Her heart swelled until it seemed too large for her chest.
Then, as if moved by an impulse she could neither resist nor fully understand, she dropped the soil from her hands and ran.
Her boots struck the earth in quick, uneven steps.
Her braid swung behind her.
Before Sienna could react, Tiara threw her arms around her.
Sienna stiffened.
Every muscle in her body locked.
Her mind went completely blank.
In Sienna’s memories, Tiara was associated with guilt and discomfort.
The old Sienna had desired her, but what remained in his memories was not the warmth of childhood affection.
It was something selfish and ugly that would shame a noblewoman like her.
Because of that, Sienna had always kept her distance.
She did not know how to answer for Sienna’s mistakes.
She did not know how to face Tiara without remembering the hurt he had caused.
And yet now, Tiara was holding her tightly, her arms trembling, her tears dampening Sienna’s shoulder.
Sienna’s heart pounded so hard that she could hear it in her ears.
In her previous life, she had never had a lover.
Not because she was too ordinary looking, had an ordinary background, or her expectations were too high.
It’s just because, just like Sienna, she is attracted to both genders, and Sienna was afraid of the society she grew up in, back then.
She didn’t like herself to get attracted to girls in her past life.
But in this world, despite the fact that it is medieval-looking and all, the values of people are different, especially when it comes to nobility.
Almost in every corner of the world, it is the norm and acceptable for noblewomen to have a lover of either gender.
And if you are the head of your noble house, even polyandry is also acceptable.
No one will judge.
Sienna knew that, but she was afraid of social stigma due to the memories of her past life.
Now she stood in the middle of a transformed field, embraced by a beautiful young woman, and her mind was as helpless as a deer caught in lantern light.
Should she hug her back?
Should she say something?
Should she remain still?
The answer refused to come.
So she simply froze.
Meanwhile, Mirella saw everything.
And in that instant, she understood.
No one knew Tiara better than she did.
After Sienna’s earlier misconduct, Mirella had feared for her granddaughter.
Tiara had become quiet, withdrawn, like a flower whose petals had closed against the cold.
Mirella had watched over her night after night, worried that grief might drive her to despair.
There is no potion for a wounded heart, Mirella had often thought.
Only time… and a reason to trust again.
When Sienna awakened and transformed, Mirella noticed the subtle changes in Tiara.
The stolen glances.
The quiet attention.
The way Tiara no longer shrank away.
And now, seeing Tiara rush forward and embrace Sienna, Mirella finally understood.
The wound in the girl’s heart had begun to heal.
*
After a few moments, Tiara suddenly realized what she had done.
She released Sienna and stepped back.
Sienna’s face was also crimson.
Her mouth opened.
Closed.
Opened again.
But no words emerged.
Tiara looked at her.
For one suspended moment, their eyes met.
Then Tiara’s own cheeks reddened.
A shy smile touched her lips, soft as the first blossom of spring.
Without saying a word, she turned and ran.
Her skirt fluttered behind her as she fled toward the castle.
Sienna stood rooted to the spot, still holding a handful of soil.
Her thoughts had scattered like startled birds.
Tiara was beautiful.
She had always known that.
But because of Sienna’s actions, Sienna had only ever looked at Tiara through the lens of guilt.
So she had avoided her.
Kept her distance.
Made certain they were never alone.
Yet now…
That single impulsive embrace had ignited something deep within her chest, like a spark landing upon dry tinder.
As she watched Tiara’s retreating figure disappear into the distance, Sienna felt the warmth of that spark spread through her heart.