Moonlit Starhorn Cow

Asher squinted, his gaze sharp as he peered at the mural across the dimly lit hall. It was an impressive work, but from his vantage point at the back of the room, Zenas' likeness was small, nearly lost among the massive pillars that stretched high into the vaulted ceiling.

A small frown tugged at Asher's brow as recognition flooded him. It wasn't his pose that caught Asher's attention, though. It was his face.

Zenas looked so much like James Ashbourne, his father.

His father had started as any true Ashbourne would: a warrior through and through. By the age of thirty, he had achieved the rank of Silver, his swordsmanship unmatched by many. He rose with an undeniable willpower, becoming the next baron, an Ashbourne, both in name and spirit.

Since he wasn't the rightful heir, they plotted against him and sought to overthrow him. To survive and secure his power, he had to get rid of them, but this left him as the last Ashourne on the entire continent.

But that wasn't the end of it. No, what truly sealed his downfall came way later.

Women, alcohol, gambling and fights. The Ashbourne legacy, built upon discipline and battle, began to rot at its very core. He had turned his back on the very principles that had made him strong.

Asher knew the very cause of his father and brother's deaths: They were the inevitable result of a man who had strayed too far from the warrior's path.

The Ashbournes were warriors. It was in their blood. They deprived themselves of luxuries and distractions, dedicating their lives to training, to battle.

The moment of reflection was broken when Mary entered the room.

"Lord Asher, your meal is ready," she said.

"Mnn." Asher nodded absently, still lost in thought.

He stepped into the new dining room, a modest space compared to its predecessor, but its large window offered a clear view of the town below.

On the wooden table lay a simple meal, the sort one might expect for a middle-class household rather than a noble's.

Kelvin stood quietly beside the table, a wry smile tugging at his lips.

"It might look small, but the bread is freshly baked, and the milk is from our best cow."

Asher snorted.

"You don't have to advertise food to a hungry man, Kelvin."

Asher took a bite of the bread. The moment it touched his tongue, his eyes widened. It was far better than he'd expected. The bread was warm, soft, and packed with a rich flavor. His gaze flicked up to Kelvin, who was watching him expectantly.

"This is... really good… So we have a skilled baker among the castle servants?"

Kelvin smiled. "Mary baked it. She may be young, but she's a great cook."

"I see." Asher took a sip of the warm milk, feeling it soothe his throat. It was rich and creamy. "How many servants are in the castle?"

"Five, my lord. Three cleaners, two cooks," Kelvin replied.

Asher raised an eyebrow. "What about the others I saw in the former dining hall?"

Kelvin's eyes met his with a quiet, almost imperceptible tension. "I sent them away. There is no need for excesses."

Asher's brow furrowed slightly. The decision to dismiss the additional servants had clearly been made without his input. His first instinct was to lecture Kelvin on overstepping boundaries, but as the words hovered on the tip of his tongue, he stopped himself.

Not because of reluctance to assert his authority, but because he knew Kelvin's actions were in good faith for a good reason due to his Loyalty stat.

Asher's gaze softened. He nodded, satisfied. "Good."

When Asher was done eating, Kelvin placed his hand in front of his mouth and coughed.

"What do you want to say?" Asher asked as he leaned back.

…

Asher slouched in his chair, the wheels of his mind turning. A middleman, he mused. Not a bad approach. If Jon is as well-connected as Kelvin implies, this could open doors—not just for selling the ore, but for building trade routes that span other dominions. A network like that could be invaluable.

However, his thoughts didn't stop there. Asher's brow furrowed. But how much do I know about this Jon? Trusting Kelvin's judgment is one thing, but humans are creatures of opportunity. Even the most loyal of allies can turn if the stakes are high enough. A single misstep in trust could be catastrophic for the barony, especially when it's already hanging by a thread.

Still, he gave no outward sign of his doubts. Instead, he inclined his head slightly, his tone neutral but laced with caution. "How well do you know this Jon? Is he dependable enough to handle such a delicate transaction?"

Kelvin didn't falter under Asher's scrutiny. "I've known him for years, my lord. He has his flaws, as most tradesmen do, but he values his reputation above all else. He won't risk that for short-term gain."

Asher decided, "Let him sell the iron ores, and we'll pay him. Take me to the farming sector."

As they walked, Kelvin felt the weight of unspoken expectations bearing down on him.

The trust Asher placed in him was unmistakable, but it also brought a heavy burden. Even if Kelvin had confidence in Jon's integrity, this was no ordinary transaction—it was a critical turning point for the barony. He resolved to send word ahead, a quiet warning to Jon to tread carefully and not falter.

Outside the crumbling walls of Ash Town, the two men approached the cluster of farmers working the barren land.

A sack of maize seeds lay nearby, waiting to be sown. The last harvest had been dismal, but such failures had become an all-too-familiar reality in these cursed lands.

Asher's gaze swept over the fields, noting the cracked soil and the tired expressions of the farmers. Yet, when they noticed his presence, they immediately stopped their work, dropping to their knees in deference.

"Milord, what brings you to visit such lowly servants?" An elderly woman said it amicably.

Asher smiled and squatted before her, causing her eyes to widen.. "Stand up. There's no need for this."

The farmers hesitated, glancing at each other before slowly rising to their feet.

Asher gestured toward the sack of maize seeds. "How is the planting coming along?"

"It's as good as it can be, milord. The soil fights us every step of the way, but we'll do what we can. The people depend on it."

"This harvest will be different," he said. "I'll ensure it."

Kelvin glanced at him, surprised by the conviction in his tone, but said nothing. The farmers exchanged looks of cautious optimism.

For Asher, it wasn't just about offering encouragement. He knew the survival of the barony depended on delivering results, not promises. And failure was not an option. Additionally, the more trust he gains, the better the community would be.

"Here, let me help you out." Asher said with utter softness, his hand placed on the elderly woman's shoulder.

"You want to farm?" A male farmer's voice cracked with disbelief.

"Maybe," Asher replied, the lightest of chuckles escaping him.

"Lord!!" The farmers, as well as Kelvin, exclaimed in unison, taken aback by his words.

Asher chuckled.

His gaze fell on the sack of maize, and his mind began to churn, assessing the possibilities. He placed a hand on the earth, feeling the rough texture beneath his fingers. He wasn't merely testing the earth; he was searching for something for the system's response.

But to no avail.

He straightened up, brushing the dirt off his hands. "Go on," he said to the farmers, his tone calm yet curious. "Continue with your work. I want to watch and learn."

The farmers exchanged glances before resuming their tasks. One of them opened a sack brimming with seeds, spilling them into the soil in careful handfuls.

The sight of the seeds hitting the ground stirred something within him, much like the falling apple that had once illuminated Isaac Newton's mind.

The moment he thought about it, a notification appeared.

[Would the host like to upgrade these ordinary maize seeds by fusion? Yes or No]

Without a second thought, Asher confirmed the action, his mind already thinking ahead. The moment his decision was made, a brilliant white light enveloped the sack of seeds.

When the light went down, everyone gasped.

The large bag filled with maize seeds had been reduced to a third of its quantity.

Asher brought out a handful of maize seeds, and the resplendent golden seeds, two times bigger than the ordinary ones, glimmered before his eyes.

[Bronze-ranked maize seeds: Absorb mana and grow in all seasons, including winter. Can grow three times faster than ordinary maize seeds and produce fatter and sweeter corn.]

'Three times faster!'

This meant it would only take the maize a month to be fully grown!

Asher lifted his head and saw the farmers staring at the seeds with glowing eyes. "Plant them. In a month's time, they'll be ripe for harvest."

The elderly woman had her doubts but held her tongue. She would prove him wrong a month later and slap out that arrogance. Although the maize seeds looked like they fell from the skies, she doubted that a maize would suddenly change its growth period.

Asher then turned to Kelvin. "Don't we have livestock?"

...

After a short while, Asher stood at the edge of the field, his gaze set on the herd of wild cattle grazing a kilometer from the town. The sight was simple but striking—thousands of cattle, their heavy bodies dotting the green expanse. Kelvin, walking beside him, explained the situation with quiet urgency.

"Peter bought them, with the little we had left. He's been raising them to sell for his own profit."

Asher studied the cattle. It was clear now—Peter was running his own operation, with all the milk going straight to him.

[Criteria fulfilled. Would the host like to upgrade 1,015 cattle to the bronze rank? Yes or No.]

Upgrade.

Asher's thought came instantly, almost reflexively. No hesitation. A surge of light swept through the cattle, bathing them in a brilliant, ethereal glow. When it faded, the herd had transformed.

[Ivory-White Cow: Produces sweeter milk and is more docile.]

Asher scoffed. 'Just sweeter milk? That's all?'

His thoughts shifted quickly. With a casual flick of his wrist, he initiated the fusion process on two of the cows, their forms enveloped in light once again. The transformation was swift, and when the glow receded, the result was clear.

A massive cow stood before him—at least 1.7 meters tall, with a sleek white coat that seemed to shimmer in the sunlight. Its horns were a striking blue, sharp and beautiful. Its eyes mirrored that same cool, knowing intelligence, and Asher immediately understood.

This was no ordinary cow.

Without needing anyone to confirm it, Asher recognized the silver-ranked cow standing before him.