Gorious Day

Alucard looked at the nearest tool to him—a rusty shovel, left there for a long time. He gave it a serious look, not seeing just an agricultural tool… but something he could use.

He bent down and picked it up with his hands. It was heavy, not because of its metal, but because of the accumulated mud and dirt clinging to it from the days it had been left unused.

He gripped it with both hands, then began to wave it in the air, testing its weight, feeling its resistance.

And then… an idea struck him.

"How does one crush something?"

Alucard had never crushed a living being before. He had never finished off something that breathed, something that moved, something that had a beating heart in its chest.

Crushing…

It was a strange idea. Even stranger when he imagined doing it with just a cheap shovel.

He looked around, searching for something to test his idea on. He needed a target…

Then his eyes fell on a tall, strange-looking plant.

It was a Scaled Plant, one of the plants that had dominated this land after the mysterious changes that had altered the world. Its stems were covered in a rough layer, as if a mix of plant and metal, twisting unnaturally with the wind.

He stared at it… feeling disgusted by its appearance.

How ugly it was.

How infuriating to see it here, thriving amidst this ruin, while other, more valuable things had disappeared.

He wanted to crush it.

He wanted to pour all his anger, all his frustration, all the thoughts that had been haunting him since he woke up onto it.

Alucard stepped toward it, holding the shovel in a curved manner, and the closer he got, the more he wondered to himself: "How will I attack you, you wretched thing?"

It was complicated, to attack something so still in such a strange way. How do people attack? This was what he wanted to figure out.

He tightened his grip on the shovel with force, with great force, until the veins in his hands bulged visibly. He felt them energizing him, making him glow more.

And suddenly, he lunged at that ugly plant!

Did he hit it? No, he split it in half!

The other half fell on him, and he didn't realize until the next moment that its thorns had stung his face.

He had been attacked! That's what he thought for a moment.

He flinched, pushed it away with his hand, shouting:

"Damn you!"

He was terrified, frightened, trembling slightly as he took a step back.

But suddenly, everything changed.

He stood firm, as if he hadn't been scared just seconds ago, then shouted loudly:

"I've split you in half, you old plant! Your attack didn't harm me!"

As if he hadn't been terrified moments before.

He had succeeded. It was fun to attack a plant as if it were an enemy, not an obstacle, not just an ordinary thing. The enemy was a new concept to him, a primal drive he had been missing for years.

Now he looked at its sisters. They were waiting for him. He wanted an enemy.

He lunged again without looking at his veins. It was noticeable progress, but...

In that rush, he tripped over something he hadn't noticed. Was it a tool? A rock? It didn't matter. What mattered was that he was now attacking with his face.

He fell on it, not understanding anything, even the curses he was shouting at that moment clouded his mind.

He was stung a lot. He was screaming, he was in pain, and trying to regain control with his shovel became difficult. He wanted strength and focus, but the curses and pain were distracting him.

He was stuck.

Yes, he was stuck in a pile of old plants.

He was stung from all sides, and how the stings hurt in non-muscular areas... like his buttocks.

He had spent all his working days picking up items. It was simply a simple, unchanging routine, not subject to renewal or difficulty. The only thing he had trained for was improving the strength of his muscles from continuous carrying.

And now, amidst the stings penetrating his body, he finally understood why he hadn't completed his work, why he had failed at it. As an original human in a world of the moon's departure, he didn't have that logical drive for routine evolution. He wasn't designed to adapt to the harshness of survival like the others.

"That's how you are, Golden Lion... Your kind are the scoundrels who can live here. You curse them like me, don't you?"

The anger inside him surged, as if these tangled plants weren't just a silly obstacle, but chains specifically placed for him, as if he were a shackled prisoner not allowed to move freely. A suffocating, vile, unbearable feeling.

He began to push his body forward, ignoring the pain, ignoring the stings that were digging into his skin. No, it wasn't just pushing... it was resistance against something greater. He wouldn't leave himself lying here like a lifeless corpse. He wouldn't stay stuck. He wouldn't accept being weak.

He clenched his teeth so hard he almost heard his jaw crack. He gripped the shovel with his trembling hands, and instead of trying to free himself by pulling his limbs, he did the opposite—he pressed his feet hard against the ground, pushed his body forward despite the thorns, despite the blood he felt dripping down his back, despite the pain that almost made his head explode.

"They're not stronger than me!"

With one final push, he leaped forward with all his strength, tearing through the thorns with the force of his body alone. He rolled forward and fell to his knees, panting heavily.

He raised his head, looked at the plant that had almost trapped him, stood up, and slowly raised the shovel.

Then, without thinking, he crushed what remained of it with a single blow.

He was so happy that he ignored his pain, his bleeding, and all those silly things. Nothing was more important than this feeling, this burning excitement inside him, this drive that had taken over his entire being.

"I'll finish every silly day here!"

On the other side, he wasn't the only one living moments of unexpected joy.

The leather workshop today was vibrant, different from the stagnant days of the past. Not just because of the increased demand, but because Lerin was in her best state. After a period of scarce resources in exploratory trips, activity had returned to the market, and the workshop was filled with visitors, almost resembling a bustling commercial market.

As usual, with her clear-skinned face and serious demeanor, she held the reins tightly. Nothing was out of her control, whether it was the flow of customers, the quality of goods, or even the endless haggling.

Her eyes moved quickly, counting inventory, watching the craftsmen, monitoring sales... and despite her stern seriousness, there was a hidden sparkle in her eyes, a sparkle no one had seen in a long time.

This was her day, just as that was Alucard's day.

Each of them, in their own way, had found something to reignite their hearts.

This entire long day for Alucard and Lerin was nothing more than a nap for Klaus and Janemba.

"Have these two black donkeys died?!"

Thus shouted Raiv, heading to open his workshop after the market noise woke him up. But, as usual, he wasn't spared from these two lazybones. Klaus was lying motionless, completely paralyzed as if he were a corpse, while Janemba, with his massive body, didn't even seem to be breathing.

"I've had enough."

Raiv moved angrily, grabbed Klaus to carry him, and left the workshop lightly despite his large body. He sneaked through the side alley, heading to the other side where his neighbor had planted tomatoes. There, with feigned gentleness, he tossed Klaus among the plants as if he were just a discarded bag.

Then he turned back, sneaking with the same calm, as if nothing had happened.

But now he was heading straight for that sleeping mule, Janemba. He didn't waste time, raised his fist, and delivered a single direct blow to his skull.

— He broke it with a snap of his fist.

"Get up, you bald one!"

A sudden cry of pain shattered the workshop's silence, followed by a loud bray from Janemba, who seemed to have transformed into another creature from the shock of the blow.

"Shit!! the beast that broke my head! Dad! Are you trying to kill me?!"

Janemba looked around in terror, then stared at Klaus's empty bed. His voice shook with real fear:

"Don't tell me he's dead!"

Raiv answered sarcastically, crossing his arms:

"No, I planted him with the tomatoes."

Then he pointed sharply at him:

"Get up now and announce to the people the opening of my workshop, quickly!"

Janemba got up, holding his head with his hand, frowning, moving sluggishly as if still immersed in sleep. Especially after three exhausting days of continuous work.

— "Faster, faster! Come on, be lively!"

Raiv uttered it enthusiastically, patting Janemba's back with overwhelming joy, as if what he had done moments ago was just a friendly wake-up call.

Janemba sighed with a scowl, but he had no choice but to comply.

As for Raiv, he was confident that he had a chance today, a chance to showcase his workshop to the crowd of traders and exchangers. It was a promised day, a day he decided would mark noticeable progress.

A day filled with indescribable happiness.

A blessed day for everyone.

While everyone had their material and livelihood gains, Alucard was also delighted. But his happiness wasn't about money or buying and selling, but about what he had experienced today.

At the end of this day, he was lying there, in the gloomy grassy yard, holding the shovel in his left hand. But this time, his grip wasn't as tight as before.

He was looking at the sky, clear despite the fog on the horizon.

It had been a truly delicious day, like a feast he had never tasted before. It wasn't just another day in his life, but it held a special place, a unique flavor, a rare sense of accomplishment, a feeling that seeped into his tired muscles, making him surrender to the cold mud beneath him, as if he were part of it.

It wasn't like the seven days that preceded it, where the requirements were clear, the routine dominant, and the goal always defined: search, explore, survive. It wasn't even like the other days he had spent on fruitful exploratory trips, those that brought resources and results, but didn't open that strange door inside him, that raw, savage drive he had experienced today.

Today wasn't just a pursuit of survival or adaptation to this world. It was a primal day at its core, instinctive, experimental, as if he had redefined himself in his own way, through a rusty weapon and a worthless plant.

He closed his eyes for a moment, enjoying the feeling of relaxation spreading through his body, his slow, steady breaths, the gentle weight that had taken over his limbs. It wasn't ordinary fatigue, but a satisfying fatigue, filled with happiness, with experience, with the new realization that had matured inside him today.

Today had a taste, and he knew it well.

"It's a precious moment... indeed, no, it's a glorious day."