Chapter 49: An All-Night Conversation with the Grand Druid

When Leo first laid eyes on Bobak, the image that surfaced in his mind was that of Teacher Yuan. And behind him, fields of golden rice bursting with harvest. In comparison, the fragments of memory from Leo’s original self painted a bleak picture of his homeland in the northern frontier: the rye fields there were sparse and crooked, each ear bearing only a dozen shriveled grains. Their yield was even worse than the wild weeds choking the rice paddies of his previous life. Backward agricultural practices and crops ill-suited to the environment both severely hindered the development of the North. Vast and sparsely populated, the region was not open for cultivation everywhere; only the plains along the Anzeno River boasted extensive farmland, while most of the lands further north were grasslands and forests. In many parts of the North, a single acre could barely sustain one person, and the labor cost to clear that acre far exceeded its returns. Subsistence farmers with limited grain could not afford it, nor could most village heads or minor knights, so generation after generation they survived by herding and hunting. Much like the Great Northern Wilderness of his previous world, geography, society, timing, and religion all constrained the advance of agricultural civilization. But could one truly say that the Northern Wilderness was inherently unsuited for farming? The real issue was simply a lack of technology and productivity.

Bobak saw through Leo’s thoughts in an instant. In his centuries-long life, he had encountered people and situations like this countless times. Every ambitious, capable, and driven person who met him immediately sought to utilize his knowledge. If he were persuaded by a few words in every unfamiliar settlement, laboring tirelessly for others as Freya did, then his five hundred years would have been wasted. Besides, both his vast experience and the ancient elven tomes spanning millennia taught him that the more humanity learned, the faster the world marched toward ruin. Yet this young human before him possessed insights and ideas that truly intrigued him. Thus, he abandoned the notion of leaving early with Freya, choosing instead to engage Leo in conversation with genuine interest.

They spoke from day into night, and from night until dawn. Their discussion shifted from the campfire to the hearth in the lord’s manor, spanning a multitude of fields. Bobak, well-versed in the histories, geographies, and religious cultures of all races, gave Leo—an outsider—a clear understanding of his situation with just a few concise explanations.

Previously, Leo had no concept of where he was, where he belonged, or his place in the food chain; all his efforts had been for mere survival. For a modern person, such ignorance was agony. Without a correct worldview, there could be no correct outlook on life. If one knew nothing of the world, it was nearly impossible to find one’s place, leaving them lost, directionless, and swept along by circumstance. Why didn’t farmers in remote villages last century venture into the bustling world? Because they knew nothing of it and had no means to survive there. If Leo remained ignorant of this world, he too would be forced to eke out a living as an old farmer in Riverbend.

Leo, in turn, sometimes offered Bobak fresh insights with his theoretical knowledge and logical thinking, which were rare in this world. Their all-night conversation stretched until dawn; Ulyan, unable to endure, retreated to sleep, while Olivia and the little mouse stubbornly remained by Leo’s side, dozing off. As for Freya, she had fallen asleep by the campfire and was carried into the stable by her teacher.

At first light, Freya, always up early, burst in from outside, shouting, “Teacher! Teacher!” Her excitement was so intense that the wooden boards groaned under her weight as she entered the manor. Leo and Bobak cried out in unison, “Out! Out!” The sawmill was still under construction, and there weren’t enough boards for proper flooring; the manor was mostly empty, save for some steps around the hearth and makeshift corridors built from old boards and branches salvaged from wagons. If not for Bobak’s calming magic, Leo and Bobak would have had to endure the shrill cries of the unicorn boars as they circled the manor, separated only by the stone walls and wooden steps.

The flimsy boards and branches clearly couldn’t withstand Freya’s formidable weight. Three of her feet pressed down on the groaning boards, one lifted, her whole body frozen in place. At Leo and Bobak’s joint command, Freya reluctantly took another step forward. With a resounding crash, the entire bridge leading to the hearth collapsed; Freya screamed as she tumbled into the lower level, immediately beset by six unicorn boars, their racket echoing through the manor.

Leo and Bobak both covered their faces in exasperation. Seeing Leo’s worried look, Bobak reassured him, “Don’t worry, she won’t be harmed.” “So, is this why you taught her to become a bear?” Leo asked.

Bobak nodded silently. He taught her the bear transformation, but not how to change back; impervious to weapons and immune to falls, even if lost, she’d be fine—perfect.

Because of Leo, Bobak stayed in Riverbend for three whole days. Though he didn’t bring about the dramatic changes Leo had imagined, whether through magic, knowledge, or artifacts, he wasn’t entirely unwilling to teach them a few things. At the very least, he showed the villagers how to calm and train the unruly unicorn boars. He also treated the wounded and disabled militia in the camp, and even used druidic spells to reinforce the lord’s manor.

The three-hundred-square-meter manor was a challenge for Valery’s craftsmen, and his villagers couldn’t fully meet his requirements. So Bobak quickly spotted the structural flaws and deficiencies. With a wave of his fingers, vines and roots emerged from the rafters, writhing like living creatures to burrow into adjacent beams, binding the manor’s supporting structure into a unified whole.

He also told Leo that Riverbend’s land was fertile enough; in the first year, there was no need for extra fertilizer, but rather to focus on drainage and aeration. In the second year, they could dig for forest humus as fertilizer, and in the third year, peat from the nearby wetlands. Only after years of continuous cultivation, when the soil’s fertility waned, would manure be needed to improve it.

Leo felt a bit dejected—had all his days spent shoveling waste been for nothing? But he knew that farming wasn’t simply about dumping in more fertilizer; every factor mattered, and everything must be adapted to local conditions. In this respect, he could hardly match the wisdom of an experienced farmer.

On Bobak’s second day in Riverbend, the Wildling tribe received word; Elder Zulwan arrived with hunters and druid followers to pay their respects to their “Earth Walker.” Thanks to Bobak and his disciple Freya, both the Wildlings and the villagers of Riverbend got along harmoniously, exchanging many gifts and enjoying an unexpectedly pleasant gathering.