Huge Gains

The next day, under the bright morning sun, the eastern coast outside Runestone stretched out in a lush green expanse.

"Baa, baa~~"

A flock of goats wagged their plump hindquarters, grazing on the grass.

From a vantage point above, they looked like a spilled bag of dirty cotton candy.

"Don't lick me! Go mess around somewhere else," Aemon snapped, his face taut with frustration as he shooed away some curious goats crowding around him.

With his two short legs planted firmly, he braced himself and gripped a cluster of dark green grass, pulling with all his might.

To sleep better and grow taller, he had gotten up extra early for this.

"Why are we even pulling these weeds?"

Popping his head out from another pile of goats, William grumbled unhappily. He pushed away a goat that was getting in the way and waved a clump of Ura Grass, roots and all.

"You wouldn't understand," Aemon replied through gritted teeth, his voice trembling with effort.

With a loud rip, the Ura Grass came free, and the force sent Aemon tumbling backward.

He landed flat on his back, rolled twice, and finally got up again, his cheeks flushed red from exertion.

"Hah, finally done."

He shook the soil from the roots, smoothed out the grass blades, and placed it carefully into a nearby basket.

Determined to harvest as much Ura Grass and Magic Essence as possible, the little dragon was well-prepared.

Resting one hand on the basket that was almost as tall as him, Aemon smiled with satisfaction. The basket had a simple lining of Ura Grass, and nestled inside was his black dragon egg.

After catching his breath, he pulled out a water flask from the green bag slung across his round little waist. He tilted it back and took a few big gulps.

The bag, embroidered with a flaming white tower, was a parting gift from a dear friend. Its fine craftsmanship made it one of his treasured possessions, which he rarely used.

"Refreshed! Time to get back to work."

Beaming with excitement, Aemon returned the flask to his bag, giving it an affectionate pat.

William strode over, looking bewildered and a bit exasperated. "You're a prince! Why are you doing all this dirty, tiring work yourself?"

After all, a prince could simply order his attendants to do whatever he needed.

Aemon's bright eyes sparkled as he pointed to a few guards searching nearby. "They're working too. If I help, we can finish faster."

Ura Grass was a treasure that could bring wealth and prosperity—how could a few guards possibly gather enough?

He couldn't just sit idle!

Confident in his reasoning, Aemon stood with his hands on his hips, feeling triumphant.

By the end of the morning, the results were impressive.

They had found five clusters of Ura Grass, earning +5 Magic Essence.

When Aemon opened the Magic Essence Panel, the exchange page displayed new options:

[+5 Essence]: Redeem to gain 5 Magic Essence.

A gray card priced at 10 Magic Essence.

[Constitution +1]: Safely and harmlessly strengthen the body.

A white card, also priced at 10 Magic Essence.

[Swift Grass Shoes]: Wear them to run faster than a horse.

A dazzling green card priced at 50 Magic Essence.

Aemon examined the cards in turn and scoffed at the first one.

"What a scam! Why would I pay double to get half the value?"

If the panel had a suggestion box, he'd have reported it immediately.

The exchange options also revealed something new: the cards' contents weren't fixed.

Every day at midnight, they would refresh randomly, offering new items of varying quality and price.

Ignoring William's incessant complaints, Aemon eagerly poked the second white card.

With a soft pop, the card dissolved into bubbles and transformed into a bright stream of light that entered Aemon's body.

He closed his eyes in anticipation, feeling a lightness sweep through him. The soreness in his arms disappeared, replaced by a newfound sense of strength.

When he jumped experimentally, his short legs managed a height of a foot and a half—far more than before.

Aemon couldn't contain his delight. "Strengthening my body? Totally worth it."

Originally, he'd planned to test the Constitution +1 card to help with his grass-pulling endeavor, but the immediate results exceeded his expectations.

"If I could refresh this card every day, I'd become a superhero!" Aemon's mind buzzed with wild fantasies.

In the world of ice and fire, personal strength was a critical measure of one's worth.

The most skilled warriors of the current era could be counted on one hand.

"Give me ten years to grow up," Aemon thought, "and I'll…"

"I don't eat beef!" Aemon suddenly blurted out.

"What? You want beef for lunch?" William, startled by the outburst, nearly dropped his jaw.

On the resource-poor continent of Westeros, cattle were precious, and even nobles rarely ate beef unless the animal died of natural causes or old age.

Aemon snapped back, raising his chin defiantly. "I said I don't eat it. Are your ears not working?"

He wasn't falling for it—William clearly wanted beef and was trying to use him as an excuse.

Not happening!

After a brief rest, Aemon threw himself back into work, brimming with energy.

He was determined to save up more Magic Essence to exchange for an indestructible body.

William, reluctantly following his lead, bent over and searched the grassland for more clusters of the elusive dark green plant.

But after a long search, he found nothing and stood up, clutching his aching back.

"Why doesn't he have to help?" William muttered, pointing sneakily toward a nearby hill.

Aemon followed his gaze and spotted a two-meter-tall, wild-haired man sitting on the hill, clad in bronze armor and gazing leisurely at the scenery.

It was Gonsor Royce.

Noticing Aemon's attention, Gonsor removed a massive greatsword from his back—it was his weapon of choice, as his size made regular swords look like toothpicks.

Under Aemon's curious gaze, Gonsor began to move methodically.

He pulled out a lemon, bit into it, and grimaced as the sourness contorted his rugged face.

Then, with practiced precision, he dipped the remaining half into a pouch of coarse salt and used it to clean the blade of his sword.

Aemon, sharp-eyed as ever, noticed every detail. "He's using salt to clean the blade! That's more expensive than oil!"

"Is he really that strong?" Aemon asked, his tone tinged with admiration.

"With arms like his? Of course," William said, a hint of jealousy creeping into his voice. "Gonsor's the master-at-arms of Runestone."

"Then why isn't he working?"

"You should go tell him," Aemon said, seeing through William's ploy immediately.

"Never mind," William muttered sheepishly. He wouldn't dare—Gonsor could swat him like a fly.

As they continued their search, Gonsor finished cleaning his sword and descended the hill, his imposing presence parting the goats in his path.

Sweat poured down William's face as he watched the giant approach, his nerves frazzled.

"What do you want?" Aemon asked, stepping forward on his short legs and planting himself protectively in front of William.

Even if it was Gonsor, Aemon wasn't backing down.

"I'm here to supervise," Gonsor replied flatly. His deep voice rumbled as he looked down at the small figure barely reaching his knees.

"Lady Rhea asked me to remind you to prepare for royal etiquette," he added. "The next hunt will take place at the king's invitation in the royal forest."