Chapter 121: 121 Spells Inside the Magic Core

Chapter 121: The Spell Within the Magic Core

The lord’s vegetable garden was vast—often dozens, even hundreds of acres devoted to a single crop, entrusted to the serfs for tending.

After inspecting the fertilizer depot, Ronin arrived at the cabbage field.

He moved like a high-ranking official making an inspection tour, trailed by Chahar, Wilson, the village heads and group leaders of four hamlets, and the farmers responsible for this plot—a long, bustling procession.

Rad, head of Forward Village, was tense. This was his village’s plot being inspected; if anything displeased the lord, his fate would be grim.

“My Lord, our village currently cultivates eighty acres of cabbage. The section you’re inspecting now is roughly ten acres—all planted according to your instructions, using ridge farming.”

Ronin nodded, gazing upward. The cabbage field thrived with vitality.

Beneath the morning sun, the green leaves shimmered with health, tightly curled into plump, spherical forms.

Thanks to the ridges and furrows, the cabbages stood in neat rows, like disciplined soldiers undergoing review.

“Much more pleasing to the eye than the chaotic mess before,” Wilson added. “Your method is brilliant, my lord. Now, when we need to weed a patch, we no longer have to trample through the beds—we can stand in the furrows and reach everything.”

“Good work.”

Ronin crouched, gently pried open a cabbage head, and examined the soil. “There hasn’t been rain in Mountain Forest Town lately, has there? The soil looks dry. Be sure to water appropriately.”

Wilson shot a pointed look at Rad—the kind that said: We told you yesterday the lord was coming! Why didn’t you water?

Rad panicked instantly. “My Lord, I’ll arrange watering today!”

“Water sparingly—just keep the soil moist.”

Ronin smiled. “Also, the fertilizer depot has produced its first batch of fully composted organic manure. You can apply it to the fields using the furrow method.”

Everyone stared blankly.

Wilson whispered, “My lord, what is the furrow method?”

Ronin dug a shallow trench beside a cabbage’s root and explained patiently: “Like this—add a bit of fertilizer into the trench, then water it.”

“Oh, by the way, Chahar.” Ronin turned to the castle steward.

“My lord, your command?”

“How are things with the latrines?”

“How many have been built in the town, aside from the castle?”

Chahar scratched his head. “My lord, each village now has one large latrine. I’ve instructed all village heads to direct their people to use them. Sometimes, there are long queues…”

Four or five hundred people sharing one latrine? Of course there were queues.

“Tell them: feces can be used as fertilizer to boost crop yields. Those who can afford it may build private latrines at home—the collected manure belongs to them, no need to surrender it to the depot. Also, we need more public latrines.”

Ronin continued: “Village heads and group leaders must make this clear: when using fecal slurry, wait several days, then dilute it with water before applying. Otherwise, it may burn the seedlings to death.”

Ronin didn’t know much—but before this crowd, he could still play the part.

For years, the serfs had avoided fertilizing because they’d burned their crops with improper use, leading them to believe manure was useless.

Now, Ronin showed them how to use it properly—and thus, the streets would no longer reek of excrement.

In ancient times, collecting night soil was a lucrative trade. Even alleyways had territorial divisions; overstepping could spark violent clashes.

Next, Ronin gave instructions to the village heads and group leaders regarding next spring’s wheat planting.

The curved-plow production was now catching up; each village would receive a share. These tools belonged to Ronin, and deeper tillage must be enforced.

By March next year, the fertilizer depot would produce a massive batch of fully composted manure—this could be distributed ahead of time, applied directly during plowing.

Though Ronin had funded and organized all of this, expecting these peasants to pay for fertilizer was impossible.

Since most of the increased yield would belong to the lord anyway, Ronin had no hesitation in offering it freely.

Having finished inspecting the depot and the fields, Ronin ended his morning tour.

Back at the castle, Black Tiger lay basking in the courtyard, while Ellyn sat nearby in meditation.

Seeing Ronin return, Ellyn broke her trance. “Brother, you’re back! Black Tiger still hasn’t opened his eyes.”

“Browning says it should be within the next couple of days. It’s close.”

Ronin sat on a nearby chair, gazing at the girl beside him—and suddenly remembered something.

“Ellyn, I have a task for you.”

Ellyn blinked, stunned, then flushed with awe. She’d been so idle since arriving at the castle—there was nothing she could help with.

Now, hearing Ronin had something for her, she immediately mimicked the others’ tone: “Command me, my lord!”

Ronin chuckled at her earnest expression and perfect imitation.

“Your mother, Jenny, raised you well. At such a young age, you can already read and write. I want you to become the teacher of Mountain Forest Castle—teach David and the others what you know.”

Ellyn’s big eyes widened. “Me? A teacher?”

Her face instantly flushed crimson. A thirteen-year-old girl teaching seventeen- or eighteen-year-olds—even older?

“Don’t tell me you lack confidence?”

“No, no, no—I can do it!”

Ellyn puffed out her small chest. “I’ll teach them to read and write, I swear!”

“If you need parchment or ink, request it from the castle.”

Ronin leaned close, whispering: “If any knight disobeys your instruction, I permit you to strike their palms with a paddle. If anyone resists, tell me—I’ll deal with them for you.”

“Yes!”

With Ronin’s backing, the girl brimmed with energy.

“Bella, you learn too,” Ronin ordered.

Knowledge was too monopolized in this world. Raising the general populace’s literacy was nearly impossible—but Ronin could start with those around him, then slowly expand.

“My lord, Mistress Bandel has something for you,” the servant rushed in from outside.

Ronin was surprised. What could the head cook possibly have for him?

“What is it?”

Galen pulled from his chest a small, pea-sized, dark-green sphere and handed it to Ronin. “It was found by Doralon, the kitchen butcher, while processing a Storm Magic Wolf. He suspected it was a magic core and asked Mistress Bandel to deliver it to you.”

Magic core?

Ronin’s heart leapt. He’d completely forgotten about this.

“Distribute the Storm Magic Wolf’s meat to those who fought yesterday,” Ronin said, taking the sphere. “Especially David—he can walk now, but won’t be able to wield a sword for weeks. Give him a larger share.”

“Yes, my lord!” Galen hurried off to arrange it.

Ronin held the dark-green sphere before his eyes. It was perfectly translucent, gleaming with an unmistakable air of rarity.

On Earth, as a child, he’d have traded ten ordinary marbles for this one.

“Huck of the Magic Energy Guild said mages can touch a magic core with their spirit and perceive the spell patterns within.”

Slowly, Ronin closed his eyes.

As his spirit brushed against the core through his fingertips, he was instantly drawn inside.

Instantly, three magical runes appeared in Luo Ning’s mind.

Two of them were azure, signifying the wind element; the remaining one was black, representing the dark element.

Luo Ning touched his mental energy to the black rune, and immediately received feedback—Invisibility, Third-Degree Dark Magic.

“This must be the key to how that Storm Wolf Mage could vanish.”

His mental energy shifted to the other two runes, one after another, revealing their secrets:

Swift: Third-Degree Wind Magic;

Tear: Fourth-Degree Wind Magic.

A look of delight crossed his face. “Two wind magic spells I don’t possess—and one of them is Fourth-Degree!”

The book Lu Lans had given him contained a comprehensive collection of martial techniques, as the man was a knight;

but when it came to magic, the coverage was far more limited—only one Third-Degree spell, Wind of Perception, was listed, with no mention of Swift.

Recalling yesterday’s battle with the Storm Wolf, he realized Swift must have been the source of its sudden acceleration.

And as for Tear—could those three beams of light that had torn through his first strike have been its doing?

Its power seemed rather weak.

“Still, this Fourth-Degree spell’s rune is vastly more complex—twenty-six magical nodes, plus a curved line.”

Setting aside his study of Tear, Luo Ning turned his focus to Swift.

He could learn this.

The speed boost from Swift would far surpass the effect of Lightness Spell. With this magic aiding him, his close-combat prowess would ascend to a new level—perhaps even allowing him to challenge foes beyond his own rank.

(End of Chapter)