The First Seed of a New Season

The silence on the barren farm was profound. All that remained of Ren's vibrant, magical paradise was rich, dark soil, waiting patiently. The monstrous corruption was gone, but so was the beauty that had preceded it.

Ser Kaelen looked at the devastation, his heart aching for his friend. "Ren... all your work... it's all gone."

Ren knelt down, running a hand through the soil. It was clean, balanced, and pulsing with a faint, latent energy from the 'Seed of Equilibrium.' It was the most perfect, fertile ground he had ever touched. "Not gone," he said, looking up with a peaceful smile. "Just resting. A good farmer knows that sometimes, you have to let a field lie fallow to prepare it for a greater harvest."

His perspective was so fundamentally different, so utterly unshakable, that it left Kaelen speechless. Where the knight saw loss, the farmer saw potential.

Lyra, however, was focused on a different matter. "The Dragon," she said, her voice a low, dangerous growl. "He betrayed us. He betrayed the world. This cannot go unanswered."

"She is right," Kaelen agreed, his hand tightening on his sword. "He used us. He used the kingdom's trust. He is an agent of the Blight. We must march on Dragon's Peak."

Ren stood up, dusting the soil from his hands. "No," he said, his voice quiet but firm. "You won't."

"But Ren, he is a traitor!" Kaelen protested.

"He is," Ren agreed. "But he is also a pest who tried to ruin my farm. My pest. My problem." He looked towards the distant, hazy mountains. "An army can't solve this. This needs a more... personal touch."

Before they could argue, Ren changed the subject, turning his attention back to the immediate task. "But first things first." He held up the single tomato seed he'd pulled from his pocket. "A farm isn't a farm without plants."

He walked to the center of the barren field, where the Harmony Tree had once stood. He poked a small hole in the dirt and dropped the single 'Sun's Fury' seed into it. He didn't water it. He simply placed his palm over the spot.

This time, it was different. He wasn't just a farmer with an overpowered system anymore. He had faced down a Lich, commanded a river, harvested an army, and reset his entire domain. He had felt the faith of a village, the divine energy of a god, and the perfect balance of creation and unmaking. His understanding of his own power had evolved.

He poured his will into the seed. He didn't just ask it to grow; he reminded it of what it was, of the ideal form of a 'Sun's Fury' tomato plant. He infused it with the memory of the sun, the taste of clean water, and the strength of the earth.

A single, vibrant green shoot emerged from the soil. It grew with a grace and speed that made its previous incarnations look sluggish. Its leaves unfurled, glowing with a soft, warm, golden light that was purer and stronger than before. Within a minute, a full-sized, perfectly formed tomato plant stood before them, laden with fruit that shone with the brilliance of miniature suns. It was not just a plant; it was a statement. I am still here.

Ren plucked one of the tomatoes. It was warmer, heavier, and its energy was more potent than any he had grown before.

[Divine Plant Reborn: 'True Sun's Fury' Tomato Plant]

[Quality: Mythical++ (Evolved)]

[Effect: The conceptual ideal of a life-giving fruit. Restores vitality, purges minor corruptions, and temporarily imbues the consumer with an aura of 'unshakeable optimism.']

"Unshakeable optimism," Ren chuckled, taking a bite. The flavor was celestial, and he felt a wave of pure, uncomplicated happiness wash over him, erasing the last of his weariness. He offered pieces to Lyra and Kaelen, who found their own anxieties and fears melting away under the fruit's powerful, cheerful influence.

"Now then," Ren said, his good mood completely restored. "Let's replant."

What followed was a miracle of creation that dwarfed anything he had done before. With his friends watching, Ren walked his barren fields. He didn't need seeds for his original crops anymore. He simply had to place his hand on the earth and will them to grow, calling them forth from the memory of the land itself.

The 'Sunstone' wheat sprouted in shimmering, orderly rows. The 'Blue-Leaf' carrots returned, their foliage a deeper, more vibrant indigo. The 'Moonpetal' beans, the 'Sentry Briars,' his medicinal herbs—all of it returned, stronger, healthier, and more potent than before. In a single afternoon, he rebuilt his entire farm from nothing but soil and memory. It was no longer just a collection of powerful plants; it was a perfectly orchestrated ecosystem, a symphony of life conducted by a single, focused will.

By sunset, the farm was not just restored; it was reborn, more beautiful and powerful than ever.

With his home set right, Ren's attention turned to the final, lingering pest.

"Alright," he said, turning to his friends. "I'm going to pay the Dragon a visit. I'll be back in a little while."

"You are not going alone," Lyra stated, her hand already on her daggers.

"We will face him together," Kaelen added, his resolve firm.

Ren smiled at their loyalty. "I appreciate that. But this isn't a battle. It's pest control. And you can't bring a sword to pull a weed." He looked at the Dragon's Peak on the horizon. "Besides, I don't think I'll need to walk."

He walked to the edge of his farm and held out his hand. From a nearby 'Sentry Briar' vine, a single, crystalline thorn detached itself and flew into his palm. It was the size of a large seed.

He held it up, focusing the power of his domain into it, not with the concept of defense, but of travel. He imbued it with the idea of a loyal steed, of swift wings, of a creature born from the farm's own life force.

He tossed the thorn into the air.

It did not fall. It hung suspended for a moment, then erupted in a silent flash of green and gold light. The light coalesced, solidified, and took form. Hovering before them was a magnificent creature. It had the body of a great stag, formed from living, woven wood. Its wings were massive, shaped like giant leaves that glittered with the light of 'Sunstone' wheat. Its eyes were two glowing 'Sun's Fury' tomatoes, and its antlers were twisting branches of 'Shadow-Thorn' vine. It was a 'Farm-Drake,' a living construct of pure, benevolent life energy.

The creature lowered its head to Ren, giving a soft chuffing sound that smelled of fresh soil.

Ren gently patted its wooden neck. "Good boy." He then swung himself onto its back, settling between the great, leafy wings.

He looked down at his two stunned friends. "See? I have a ride. Now, you two stay here and look after the farm. Don't let the villagers worry too much."

With a single, powerful beat of its leafy wings, the Farm-Drake launched into the sky, carrying Ren swiftly and silently towards the distant Dragon's Peak.

Ser Kaelen and Lyra could only watch as he flew off, a lone farmer on a steed made of plants, heading off to confront one of the most powerful and ancient beings in the world.

"Sometimes," Kaelen said to Lyra, his voice filled with a profound sense of wonder, "I forget that he is, in fact, a god."

"No," Lyra replied, her eyes fixed on the shrinking figure in the sky. "He's not a god. He's a farmer. And that's much, much scarier."