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Gu Hong wakes up in a fantasy world with a Hearthstone system, granting him the power to summon legendary heroes like Anduin, Jaina, and Rexxar. But when his plans for conquest hit a snag, he stumbles upon an unexpected truth: this system isn’t just for combat—it’s a game-changer for farming!
Agriculture? Druids who accelerate crop growth.
Commerce? Mushroom Brewers, Trogg Beastmasters, and enterprising merchants.
Crafting? Swordsmiths, Armorers, and even Drakonid blacksmiths.
Magic gear? Alchemists, Enchanters, Jewelcrafters, and Scribes at your service.
Culture? A romance novel-savvy bookseller to spice things up.
He finally realizes: farming is the ultimate strategy to unlock the Hearthstone system’s true potential.

Lord of Farming in Hearthstone

Sean wasn't worried about claiming the dwarven alcohol recipe as a divine revelation. The Light God had better things to do than smite a minor lord in a backwater town—countless frauds used the deity's name daily without repercussions.

Henry remained kneeling, trembling with awe. Sean cleared his throat. "Spread word about my divine mission and the new farming methods. The alcohol recipe stays secret for now."

"Of course, My Lord! An honor to guard the Light's secrets."

"Fetch two craftsmen this afternoon. We'll start brewing soon. And rename the castle—Constantinople."

Henry blinked. "A… unique name. What does it signify?"

"Sounds grand, doesn't it? That's enough."

Inside the newly christened Constantinople, Sean directed the chef to prepare a meal using his "divine recipes"—spiced stew and herb-roasted venison. Lucio arrived, sniffing the air appreciatively.

"Your cooking improves daily," he joked. "Maybe the Light did bless your hands."

Sean laughed. "Or maybe I just pay attention to seasoning."

After a nap, Sean summoned Henry . "The craftsmen?"

"Two hired, oaths sworn." Henry handed over sheepskin contracts. "But why a shoemaker for dwarven alcohol?"

Sean grinned. "He'll craft airtight barrels. Dwarves value preservation as much as flavor."

Henry bowed. "As you say, My Lord. Shall we begin the brew?"

"Not yet. First, we need…" Sean paused, recalling Azeroth's brewing methods. "Barley malt, yeast, and a copper still. And absolute secrecy—if the Church hears about this, they'll claim it as their own."

Henry paled. "The Church controls all alcohol trade in Lane Duchy. If they discover—"

"Let them try," Sean said coldly. "I'm their Son. They can't oppose a divine revelation."

That evening, Sean inspected the castle's west tower, now his study. Moonlight spilled over the morningstar river,reflecting off Constantinople's stone walls.

"Constantinople," he murmured. A name from another world. Fitting for a new beginning.

Windsor entered, carrying a stack of Lodin's novels. "The mercenaries are reading these. Even Sophia asked for a copy."

Sean groaned. "Great. Now Riverside's soldiers are addicted to trash romance."

Windsor smirked. "Better than praying all day, My Lord."

Downstairs, Lucio complained to Anduin . "He named the castle after a shoemaker? What's next, a tavern called'Boot Brewery'?"

Anduin smiled. "Sean has… unique tastes. But his plans work. The farms are already being prepared for crop rotation."

Lucio nodded, eyeing the stew pot. "As long as he keeps feeding us like this, I'll follow his lead."

Chapter 67: Constantinople