Arc II – Agrarian Revolution
Chapter 1 – The Argarian Relovution
Day 25 Since the Summoning
The morning sun rose over the capital of the Armenas County.
Alan lay on his bed with one hand behind his head and the other held out in front of him.
He was still actively examining his completely intact fingers.
‘I still don’t understand what that was…
but it clearly wasn’t just a simple dream.
The proof is right here, intact fingers.
Who is this…
Stranger?
A local deity?
An analogue of the devil?
Or someone else?’
He got up and walked over to the mirror.
‘Pfft…
so he finds me interesting…
but he did share some useful information.
I’m not the only hero who ended up without magic.
And…
I got very lucky with my brains.’
Alan began running his fingers over his intact lips.
‘Hmm…
he said he’s tired of watching heroes degrade as individuals under the weight of magic…
maybe that’s the answer to my question: “why hasn’t this world changed after 300 years of summoning heroes”?
Or is it much more complicated than that?
I just don’t believe that all three hundred…
or fewer people, could be so intoxicated by magic that they’d completely disregard basic progress…
no…
it’s much more complicated than just vanity…
but I have no idea, and there’s no point in digging while I know almost nothing.’
He stepped away from the mirror and stood by the window.
‘The Stranger…
maybe I should ask Kamelia or Shergen who he is?’
Alan shook his head.
‘Terrible idea.
What if The Stranger to them is…
I don’t know…
some cursed demon, and associating with him is considered a sin…
like those devil’s contracts in my world.
They burned people for that.
No, I’m not going to ask anyone…
it’s too risky.
I need to find out who this Stranger is on my own.
But how?’
He began pacing the room with his hands clasped behind his back.
‘Maybe casually ask Kamelia?
Like “who is The Stranger”?
No…
nonsense.
She’ll definitely ask where I heard that, and I won’t be able to give a coherent answer.
Heard it?
From who the fuck did I hear it?
I haven’t left this room.
Read it?
Where the fuck did I read it?
I don’t even know how to read in this language.
No.
Definitely keep my mouth shut, there are more important matters right now.’
Alan looked at his nails one last time.
‘A gift…
pfft, some gift, healed me once.
Thanks for that, I guess.’
He sighed and picked up the bandages, then began wrapping his fingers back up.
After that, he went to the door.
When Alan stepped out, he simply wandered down the quiet corridor until he suddenly ran into Golna, who was calmly walking somewhere holding some fabrics in her hands.
“Hey, you,” Alan said.
Golna flinched slightly in surprise, then turned around.
“Yes, Lord Gothwald?”
Alan blinked.
‘Lord Gothwald?
Alright, never mind.’
“Your name is Golna, I think?”
The beastkin nodded.
“Yes, my lord.
Can I help you with something?”
Alan shoved his hands in his pockets out of habit, but medieval trousers didn’t have any pockets, so he just patted his thighs.
He clicked his tongue, and then simply rested his hands on his hips.
“I need Kamelia.
Where is she?”
Golna frowned slightly, pausing at the strange movement, but quickly returned to a calm expression.
“Lady Armenas is resting right now, but…
she said to wake her immediately if you came.
I will go call for her now.” She gave a short bow and walked briskly toward the stairs.
Alan stood there for another second, and then headed to the small throne room.
“Damn…
I’ll have to tell the local tailors about pockets.
It’ll be a breakthrough,” he muttered to himself.
A minute later, Alan was already sitting at the table in the small throne room, hunched over, tapping his fingers on the table.
‘What time is it even?
It’s so…
unusual.
Back home I could check the time on my phone whenever I wanted, but here…
who the hell knows.
I think in the Early Middle Ages they didn’t even have basic analog clocks, they usually used sundials and water clocks…
this world is so inconvenient, it’s just awful.’
He sighed quietly.
‘No pockets, no clocks, no windmills, no no-thing.
How did I not even think about this before?
Ah right, of course, I was busy saving my own ass.
Classic, basically.
When a person doesn’t have to think about how to survive another day, they start thinking beyond their next meal.’
The door to the throne room opened.
Kamelia.
Her hair was messy, her face slightly puffy, her eyes sticking together.
Her clothes were somewhat put on, but not quite straight.
She sat down opposite him.
“I hope you did not call me at the crack of dawn for nothing,” she muttered.
Alan rested his elbows on the table, and then laid his head on his arms.
“Of course not.
I have an important matter regarding the famine.”
Kamelia yawned.
“I am listening.”
Alan opened his mouth, closed it.
‘Nice one.
You complained, you whined, but who’s gonna figure out where to start?
Alright…
improvise.’
He yawned too.
“Well…
first we need to discuss…
this…
whatchamacallit…
how to initially solve the famine, at least for the time being.”
“Uh-huh,” Kamelia said, propping her head up with her hand, then mimicking Alan’s posture.
“I am listening closely.”
Alan cast a sidelong glance at her, but continued, his vision blurring from the desire to sleep.
“Right.
First, we need to find a way to feed the peasants…
here and now, I guess.”
“Teru, ge yaki cpocob?”
“Come again?” Alan asked.
“Diy, ge yaky cpocob?”
Alan shook his head.
“What?”
“I am asking what way.
Are you deaf?” she muttered.
Alan blinked.
‘Uh-huh…
so if I’m almost asleep, the translator stops working too or something?
Got it.’
He opened his mouth, closed it.
“Hold on…
I need to think.”
The countess yawned.
“You can take your time, there is plenty of it.”
Alan nodded and retreated into his own thoughts for about three minutes, when suddenly he heard quiet snoring.
He looked up.
Kamelia had fallen asleep.
Alan snorted.
‘Pfft…
if an entire countess can saw logs in the throne room, why can’t I?’
He made himself comfortable with his head on his arms, and started snoring too a few minutes later.
Alan opened his eyes; the sun was already shining brightly through the windows of the throne room, it was around noon.
He rubbed his eyes.
He was covered in sweat, his eyes slightly red.
‘Oh fuck…
my head is literally splitting…
always hated daytime naps because of this.’
He sat up, and then looked at Kamelia.
She was still sleeping.
‘The countess is snoozing.
Now that’s a sight.
But…
the clock is ticking, how do I even wake her up?
…
hah…
well, let’s try this.’
He walked over to her and started shaking her shoulder.
“Wakey wakey, wakey wakey, time for school.
Come on, get up, are you ready to go to school?”
Kamelia struggled to open her eyes, which were also slightly red, and looked at Alan.
“Huh?”
He pulled his hand back.
“Get up I said, time to get to work.”
Kamelia rubbed her eyes and reluctantly sat up.
“Right…
forgive me for falling asleep like that.” She yawned.
“Let us go then…
to the terrace, at least the air is fresh there.”
Five minutes later, they were already sitting on a stone terrace with a canopy.
To the side, a view opened up over the entire capital of Armenas and the vast, endless blue sea.
Townspeople walked the streets, merchants sold their wares in the square, and the rhythmic clanging of iron echoed from the smithies somewhere.
Golna walked onto the terrace, set down two cups of some bluish liquid, then bowed and left.
Alan raised an eyebrow.
“What’s this swill?”
Kamelia blinked.
“Ah…
it is called oyre, a beverage made from oyrigtoge flowers, they grow in the Faarkiy Mountains in the north.
The servants bought it from a merchant who was here three months ago.”
Alan picked up the cup without taking his eyes off the drink.
‘Hmm…
Faarkiy Mountains, a new location.
Duly noted.
And this drink…
is it some kind of local analogue of tea or something?’
“And what does it actually taste like?”
Kamelia had already taken a sip.
“Sweet, with a slight bitterness.”
Alan nodded, then took a sip himself, and smacked his lips.
‘Yeah…
it really does taste like regular tea, just without sugar.
But this is much sweeter and you can actually drink it, not like that unsweetened tea slop.
What kind of perverts drink tea without sugar anyway?’
He screwed his eyes shut.
‘Right, thinking about the wrong thing.’
Alan opened his eyes and picked up the cup again.
“So, I think we should talk about how we’re going to solve the famine.”
Kamelia stopped looking at the city and turned to Alan.
“Yes.
What ideas do you have?”
Alan leaned back in his chair.
“Well, look…
the very first thing we need to do is just simply feed the people for the time being.
I have bigger plans, but let’s think more grounded for now.
What’s the current food situation?”
The countess squeezed her cup slightly.
“Poor.
There is very little bread, we had a bad harvest, as I told you.
As far as I know…
they are not dying of starvation yet, but I heard that in some villages they are already eating tree bark.”
Alan missed a breath.
‘Eating bark…
now that’s a real famine, goddamn it.
Hmm…’
He scratched his chin.
‘We need to feed them for the time being…
maybe there’s food here that’s literally lying right under their feet, but no one knows about it?
I mean, that’s how it was in my world.
Slugs, snails, mushrooms, rye for a long time…
all that shit was edible, but no one simply knew or wanted to eat it.’
“Listen, do you guys have anything edible, but something that the peasants don’t like to eat?”
Kamelia took a sip of oyre and shrugged.
“I do not know, I never inquired.
Why?
Can there be such a thing?”
Alan nodded.
“Entirely possible.
Snails, for example.”
Kamelia choked and began coughing.
“Snails?!
Those vile slugs?!” She set the cup down.
“Alan, I understand everything, you know many things, but that…
honestly, even after everything I have seen, it sounds like the ravings of a madman.”
Alan frowned.
“Hey, in my world, snails are actually a delicacy.”
The countess blinked.
“What a strange world you have.
Only humans, all aristocrats, and now…
you eat snails too.”
Alan raised a finger.
“First of all, not all aristocrats, everyone just has surnames.
Secondly…
whatever.” He lowered his finger.
“We’ll go to a random village later and find out more details there.
But for now, I’ll tell you something more interesting.” He picked up his cup again and took a sip.
“I’ll tell you about something that was a real breakthrough in my world back in the day.”
Kamelia raised an eyebrow.
“A breakthrough…
what do you mean?”
“It means everything changed.
Remember I asked you about the three-field system?”
She nodded.
“Yes, I remember.
And what is it?”
Alan set the cup down and raised his hands.
“That’s a weaker idea, so we’re going to introduce…
the four-field system.
In my world, it was called the ‘Agricultural Revolution’…
by the way, remember the word ‘agricultural’, I’ll be using it a lot.
It’s everything related to growing food.”
Kamelia slowly nodded.
“Agricultural…
growing food,” she muttered.
‘Why didn’t I think of this earlier?
The Norfolk four-course system…
oh my god…
oh my god!’
His body began to tremble slightly.
‘This is…
this is a real breakthrough in an Early Middle Ages world!
The four-field system is a revolution!
Thanks to this, you could feed animals CONSTANTLY with turnips in the winter, and clover in the summer!
Livestock numbers increased manifold!
More well-fed livestock, more manure, more fertilizer for the fields!
This system led directly to the industrial revolution due to universal well-fed populations and the freeing up of labor!
If I introduce this here…’
Kamelia looked at Alan, who was trembling slightly with his fists clenched, staring into nowhere while smiling.
“Um…
Alan, are you alright over there?”
“Kamelia!” He stood up.
“You have no idea what I’ve come up with!”
The girl flinched slightly.
“A-and what is it?”
“You let one field rest, right?”
“R-right.”
Alan stepped away from the table and began pacing by the railing.
“But I know a method where the field will never rest!”
Kamelia blinked.
“But…
is that even possible?
If a field does not rest, it will be completely ruined, no?”
Alan wagged a finger.
“Not at all.” He sat back down at the table.
“Do you have…
well…
turnips?
Like…
that kind of root vegetable.”
The countess took a sip of oyre.
“Yes, we do, they grow it in some fields…
to feed the livestock.”
“Perfect.” Alan smacked his fist into his palm.
“Let me tell you how it worked in my world.” He closed his eyes.
“Thanks to this agricultural revolution…
the problem of famine was completely solved.”
Kamelia’s eyes widened slightly.
“What do you mean…
solved?”
“Just like that!
But…
then again.
You have to believe me.
Because it will seem crazy to you.”
She remained silent for a few seconds, then sighed.
“After the sickness…
yes.
I believe you.”
Alan shuddered slightly at the memories, but quickly shook his head.
“Thank you.
But this time I’ll explain everything to you, how it works, and why.”
She looked up at him.
“…yes.
I wish to know.” Her hand set the cup down.
“But we must not waste time.
You said earlier that we need to go to a village and assess the situation.
So let us prepare, and we will discuss your aragar relovution on the way.”
“Agricultural revolution,” Alan corrected, then waved a hand.
“Alright, never mind.
To the stables then…” he winced slightly.
“Chafing my balls again…” he muttered under his breath.