(Book 2) Chapter 3:
Terraces
“You’re really heading out already?” Hershel asked as Halius coached me through helping him with his armor.
“I’m afraid so. I have quite a bit of work to get done before training begins. I should be running by in a day or two to visit the church and see how everyone’s holding up.”
Hershel nodded and spat a bit of reed into the dirt as he gathered his thoughts.
“Well, we’ll be sure to catch a ride with a patrol and visit you soon. Halius, you take care of our Sam, and make yourself welcome anytime you’re passing through as well.”
We both nodded and waved our goodbyes to Hershel and the rest of the family as they settled into their chores for the day.
As we traveled down the coast, I couldn’t help but smile to myself. The cool air and the faint smell of salt pushed us along with the wind at our backs, making our hurried steps home feel all the more brisk as we walked down the well worn roads.
The trip overall went by fairly quickly as Halius chatted with me about matters concerning the valley, listing off various names and people I should become familiar with. I was grateful for the information, but I didn’t think I retained much of what he said. My mind kept drifting to other things, like my upcoming training, early mornings, sore muscles, and whatever else might be in store
A few times, we encountered several groups of people from the Adventurers Guild heading in the same direction. Metal clinked softly with each step they took, packs creaked under the weight of supplies, and low voices drifted between companions as they spoke of routes, monsters, and pay.
As we approached, the adventurers simply nodded in greeting and made room for us to pass, each group bound for the dungeon and chasing whatever goals they had set for themselves.
“Halius, have you spent much time in the dungeon?” I asked as we drew ever closer to our destination.
Halius shook his head.
“I’ve visited it, of course, but my priorities have always been the valley’s business. We get enough beasts spawning along our borders to keep us busy through the seasons, especially being so close to the dungeon itself. Winters can get especially nasty.”
His comment stirred a memory, and I recalled Hershel and Neil mentioning that adventurers typically set out during the winter months, preferring warmer seasons and dungeons in other regions. As a result, monsters and beasts alike had a chance to recover and even spread, with fewer people around to keep their numbers in check.
“Then I’d better train hard,” I said, matter of factly. “I’d hate to be a burden… which is why today I’m starting my garden as soon as we get back.”
Halius chuckled softly as our steps carried us in front of the gate leading into the valley.
“Most burdens don’t worry about pulling their own weight,” he said. “Just do your best, and everyone else will too. You’re a man of the valley now, so we all help one another. Plus, we’re friends now, aren’t we?”
I nodded.
“Aye, I’d say we are.”
Halius smiled at my confirmation, but before we could continue our conversation, a new voice broke in.
“About damn time you two showed up,” Chris called out. “Sam, your donkey was right pissed when I tried to take him into the stalls without you there, and don’t even get me started on that damned cat!”
I grimaced at the fresh claw marks still lining the man’s hands.
“I… yeah, sorry about that. Thank you for looking after them for me. I owe you one.”
“Hell, you owe me two, and I’ll hold you to it!” he laughed as I clasped his arm. “Halius, I’ll need a word with you before you head back to the village.”
Halius nodded and waved me on as he needed to speak with the guards about the morning’s watch, and he assured me he would inform the Circle of what had transpired in the city while we were gone.
With that, I made my way down the scenic road leading to my side of the valley, taking in the view of the surrounding mountains, the quiet lake, and the long grass flowing along the side of the trail.
It felt as if the scenery itself was pouring into me, and I sensed the faint trickle of potential beginning to return to my reservoir. I smiled at that feeling, but then immediately frowned as my home came into view in the distance.
Making use of the small amount of potential at my disposal, I willed it toward my eyes through the use of Augment Senses and cast my vision toward a familiar figure waiting at the end of the small bridge that led onto my property.
Blue stood there with his orange companion resting on his head, staring down the road in my direction. It was obvious he was furious, and I had no idea how long he had been standing there waiting for me.
Well, damn… I suppose I do owe him an apology.
As I approached the pair, I could feel the tension rise the moment I came within proper nipping distance. Blue brayed irritably, Mittens hissed, and the two of them teamed up on me as they voiced their displeasure in an odd series of meows and neighing gripes.
Despite many, many apologies, it still took a while for the grumpy ass to stop nipping at me. After a thorough brushing and a substantial amount of carrots, he finally quit being hostile and resigned himself to being his usual self. Which, truthfully, wasn’t much better, but it did make me feel good when he finally nuzzled my chest with his large head.
“Yeah, yeah, I missed you too.”
I reached out to pat Mittens on the head but received a less than pleased swat of her paws in return.
“Fair enough,” I sighed as my thoughts drifted toward the work I had planned for the day. “You two… do whatever you usually do. I have a lot to get done. Actually, Blue, do you want to help?”
At the mention of potentially working, the ass turned and bolted, fleeing with his companion back toward the flowery fields they had been playing in for the past couple of days.
“Typical,” I said with a laugh as I turned and headed down to the stables.
Inside, I began gathering the supplies I thought I might need for the day. Several shovels, hoes, and other tools were stored in bins beside the workbench, while the rest hung along the wall in a neat, organized fashion.
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Once I had everything in hand, I carried the tools back outside and began surveying the land, searching for a hill where I could start carving out the foundations of a terrace.
As I stood looking out over my property, the western field bright with flowers seemed like the obvious place to start. It was flat, open ground which would provide relatively easy work, and for a moment, I seriously considered it.
However, the longer I stood there admiring the flowers, the more that sea of color felt deliberate, as if someone long ago had sown it with great love and care. I decided then that destroying something beautiful simply because it was convenient didn’t sit right with me, not when other options were still available.
After a bit more looking, a hill nearby caught my eye. It was a gentle rise of earth near the lake where the slope wasn’t too steep and the soil looked dark even through the grass. It seemed like a good place to start, close enough to the water to stay healthy through the hotter days, but high enough that heavy rain wouldn’t turn it into a muddy mess.
After a slow walk around its base, I was convinced I had found the perfect spot.
Tools in hand, I stepped onto the slope and began by pulling a length of thick string from my pocket. One stone went into the earth near my boots, marking the starting point for the first terrace.
Careful steps carried me sideways along the hill as the string unspooled behind me. Every few paces, I stopped to glance back toward the house and adjust my line. A little higher. A little lower. There were no proper tools for this part, just my eyes and a feel for what looked level enough to stand on while still following the natural curve of the slope.
The ground shifted under my boots more than I liked, and more than once I had to drive my heel in to keep from sliding downhill. Farming flat land was one thing. Working the side of a hill was something else entirely.
After walking out nearly twenty paces, I crouched and pressed another stone into the soil, pulling the string tight between the two markers.
As I stepped back, I rested my hands on my hips, studying the faint line I’d marked into the hillside. From here, it was easier to imagine what could be, and I let my mind wander as I worked out how best to carve a narrow shelf into the hill, wide enough for rows of vegetables to take root.
After coming up with a plan I was more or less satisfied with, I moved a few steps uphill and began the process again, pressing another stone into the soil as the string unspooled behind me and I traced a second line across the slope. This one sat a little higher than the previous, marking where the next terrace would be. After rechecking my lines and making sure they appeared somewhat even, I repeated the process one more time.
By the time I finished, three faint lines ran across the hillside like contour marks on a map, each one signifying a shelf that would soon be carved into the rich soil. Roughly, each terrace would be about twenty four feet wide and six feet deep, allowing enough space for a decent garden that could support me without feeling like it would take up all my time.
I stretched from side to side in preparation for the work ahead, then, with a smile on my face, picked up the shovel resting at my feet. I figured this project might take a few days of work to complete, but I was curious whether or not my abilities would allow me to finish a little bit faster than expected.
With that thought in mind, I raised the shovel and began to dig.
As my shovel bit into the fresh earth, the resistance caught me off guard. Thick, wavy grasses had woven themselves through the soil, their roots binding the hillside together in a stubborn grip. The first thrust of the spade met that hidden web and lost much of its bite. Each press of my foot sent a dull jolt up my leg as steel grated past buried stems and tangled roots.
After a rough beginning, the soil finally started to give, breaking free in dark, heavy clumps as I drove the shovel into the earth again and again. With each load, I dragged the loosened dirt forward, letting it spill and build along the terrace line where the front edge would slowly take form.
The hill didn’t yield easily, and was proving itself to be a worthy opponent.
After a solid hour of digging, my shoulders burned and my palms throbbed despite the calluses long since hardened there. The terrace had begun to emerge, but even with my enhanced strength, I wasn’t making the progress I’d imagined. Each shovelful felt heavier than the last, and the hillside still rose above me, stubborn and uncut.
I leaned on the shovel and took a slow breath, staring out over the work still waiting for me. Since I was resting anyway, curiosity got the better of me. I let my awareness turn inward, brushing against the familiar presence of my reservoir as it continued to refill.
To my surprise, it was already more than half full.
A faint smile tugged at the corner of my mouth as I straightened. Sweat cooled along my skin in the breeze, and the rich scent of freshly turned earth lingered in the air.
“Well… I suppose it’s time for a little experimenting.”
So far, the only skill I had for improving my physical ability was Power Boost. It heightened muscular output, driving more force into every movement. Strikes landed harder, motions carried greater weight, and work that usually demanded steady effort could be done with sudden, sharpened intensity.
However, the cost was just as clear. The skill drained me fast and, as far as I could tell, was built for brief bursts of power rather than long, grinding labor.
As I continued to study the half formed terrace, I turned the problem over in my mind again and again. What coudl I do differently? Maybe… instead of flooding my muscles with a sudden surge of power, I could let it trickle in. That way I would get bursts of power, but not so much that I burned myself out. That was possible… right?
Holding that thought, I gently reached inward and drew up a thin thread of potential from my reservoir. Instead of forcing it outward in a single burst, I let it move through me in the same steady cycle I’d learned while practicing Mend Wounds.
If I could keep the boost low and constant, maybe I could break through the stubborn roots and packed earth without collapsing after a few swings.
Instead of the explosive surge I’d felt before, the strength rose gradually. A slow, steady swell of potential moved through me like a tide, filling my muscles with quiet promise. My heart thudded in my chest as I lifted the shovel.
“Alright… let’s see what happens.”
The next swing landed with a deeper, more deliberate force than all the ones before. I watched in disbelief as the blade bit into the earth and slipped through the dense roots as if they were nothing more than wet twine, and soil that had fought me earlier now yielded without protest.
After a few more shovelfuls of dirt, I released the trickle of potential I’d been channeling and wiped away the sweat that had suddenly appeared on my brow.
“Salted Hells, that’s effective,” I muttered to myself, smiling at the difference in effort. “Let’s try that again.”
I worked for the better part of an hour, learning how to manage the flow of potential as I dug into the hillside.
The potential I moved throughout my body was not easy to keep in check. The energy had a willful quality to it and was always tugging at me, urging me to push harder, move faster, and to simply give in to the surge of strength.
The effort of holding that power in check drained me as much as the digging itself, and after load upon load of soil had been packed into the terrace’s front edge, I felt my reserves gutter out once more.
Exhaustion finally claimed me, and I sank down onto the shelf of earth I’d carved out from the hillside. A long breath slipped from my lungs as I allowed myself, at last, to simply sit and take in the work I’d accomplished.
“Salted Hells,” I muttered, staring up the slope at the finished terrace. “I really already did that much?”
Work that should have taken a full day at the very least had been carved away in just two hours, but it had not been without a cost.
My arms trembled with fatigue where they hung at my sides, and each breath came heavier than it should. Sweat cooled along my skin, and as I rested, my heart slowly found its way back to a steadier rhythm.
I thought back to what Chris had told me yesterday. He had said that my body was like a wineskin, and that my stats reflected how much strain it could endure. At the time, the comparison had seemed simple enough, but it didn’t fully explain what I was currently experiencing.
After a few hours of steady labor, the changes within me were impossible to ignore. My strength had grown, my muscles were more defined than before. Even simple movements felt smoother, more natural, as if my body were finally learning the shape of the power it carried. Through effort, it was slowly reshaping itself to match the potential the Path had placed within it.
Training wasn’t just about gaining strength. It was about teaching the body how to hold it. To stretch the wineskin without splitting it. To make room for the pressure building inside. That was why effort mattered. Why repetition mattered. Why pushing too hard without preparation led to injury, and why boosts and blessings like Yahm’s came with a cost when the body wasn’t ready to bear them.
Excitement hummed at the edge of my thoughts as the steady trickle of potential from Yahm’s Legacy continued to refill the reservoir within me. A quiet resolve settled in alongside it. I wanted to push myself today, to see how far I could go. Maybe, by the time the sun slipped below the horizon, I’d even reach a new level.
With that thought, I let myself fall back onto the grass and closed my eyes to rest as I inwardly watched the slow drip of potential slowly fill the reservoir within.
Notice: Skill: Power Boost: is now Rank 1: Level 4.
Notice: Skill: Power Boost: is now Rank 1: Level 5.
Power Boost: (Rank 1: Level 5) — Amplifies the muscular output of a target, increasing the force and effectiveness of their physical movements. Their actions become stronger and more forceful, allowing them to strike harder, lift more, and perform physical labor with greater intensity for a short duration. When the effect ends, accumulated strain may leave the target fatigued. This skill scales with the target’s Strength attribute

