The Outcast Sage: Reborn to Save a Dying World

CHAPTER 4 — THE IMPOSSIBLE HARVEST

The laughter had not faded by morning. Instead, it followed Richard wherever he walked through the village like an invisible shadow. Children pointed at him from doorways while whispering to one another. A pair of elderly women paused in the middle of drawing water from the communal well just long enough to shake their heads in pity before resuming their conversation. Farmers carrying worn wooden tools cast doubtful glances in his direction, and several openly chuckled as though the previous day's promise had become the village's favourite joke.

"That's the outsider."The one who claims he understands farming."I heard he doesn't even have mana."What can a scholar teach people who have lived on this land their entire lives?"Richard heard every word. Years ago, those whispers would have dug beneath his skin and lingered there for days. The academy had taught him how cruel ridicule could become when repeated often enough. Back then, every insult had felt like proof that perhaps everyone else was right. Not anymore.

The Knowledge Authority had changed something far more important than his circumstances. It had changed his certainty. If knowledge truly possessed power in this world, then arguments meant little compared to results. Caelan walked beside him with an apologetic expression."You don't have to listen to them." Richard smiled faintly.

"They're not laughing because they're cruel."Caelan looked at him in surprise."They're laughing because they're desperate." The young hunter frowned."I don't understand."When people spend years believing nothing can change, hope begins to sound ridiculous."His gaze drifted across the empty fields stretching beyond the village."If I had grown up watching every harvest fail, I'd probably laugh too."

Caelan remained silent after hearing those words. For the first time, he realised Richard never seemed interested in proving people wrong. He only wanted to solve the problem. That difference unsettled him....The farmland stretched across several gentle hills surrounding the settlement. At first glance, the fields appeared ordinary. Dry soil. Withered stalks.Cracked irrigation channels.

Nothing seemed unusual. Richard knelt and pressed his fingers into the earth. He rubbed the soil between his fingertips before bringing it close to his nose. Then he dug several inches deeper. The deeper layer remained damp. His eyes narrowed "Interesting..."What is it?" Caelan asked."The land isn't dead."

He scooped another handful into his palm."It has simply stopped breathing."Caelan blinked. Soil... breathes?"In a way."Richard picked up a small stick and began sketching a cross-section of the ground."When water sits too close to the surface for too long, roots can't absorb enough air. Plants slowly suffocate even while surrounded by moisture."

The hunter stared at the drawing."You can tell that just by touching the dirt?"Richard nodded. The clues are everywhere if you know what to look for."He spent the next several hours examining every corner of the farmland. Each discovery pointed toward another mistake. The irrigation ditches had been dug to inconsistent depths, causing water to collect in stagnant pools instead of flowing evenly across the fields.

The crops had been planted too closely together, forcing them to compete for nutrients. Dead plants had been burned after every failed harvest, leaving behind ash that gradually altered the soil's natural balance. Most importantly, the villagers planted on the same land year after year without allowing it to recover.No wonder the harvests continued to fail.

The miracle was that anything still grew at all....Word spread quickly. By afternoon, dozens of villagers had gathered to watch the strange outsider pace through their farmland while muttering observations to himself. Old Brenner, the eldest farmer in the settlement, finally stepped forward. His weathered hands rested atop a worn wooden hoe polished smooth by decades of use.

"I've worked these fields for sixty years."His voice carried the quiet confidence of experience."My father farmed here before me."And his father before him."Richard met the old man's gaze respectfully."I don't doubt your experience."Then why do you keep saying we're doing everything wrong?"Richard crouched beside the irrigation ditch. He picked up a handful of muddy water and allowed it to trickle slowly through his fingers.

"Because sixty years of doing the same thing doesn't automatically make it correct."The surrounding crowd stirred uneasily. Old Brenner frowned."So you're calling us fools?"Richard slowly stood.No.I'm saying that sixty years of mistakes don't become truth simply because they're old."The words struck the gathered villagers harder than any insult. Some frowned. Others crossed their arms defensively. Yet none of them could explain why the harvest continued failing despite generations of experience.

For the first time...Doubt appeared. No doubt in Richard.Doubt in themselves. Richard seized the moment."Give me three days."Murmurs spread through the crowd."Three days?"I'll redirect the irrigation channels."I'll separate the planting rows."I'll restore drainage."I'll teach crop rotation."And if nothing changes..."He looked directly at the chief."I'll leave without asking anything from this village."

The chief studied him for several long moments before nodding."You have your three days."...The work began immediately. Richard did not order anyone around. Instead, he worked beside them. He dug trenches until his hands blistered. He carried stones to reinforce weakened canals. He explained every change instead of demanding blind obedience.

Slowly, curiosity replaced ridicule. People began asking questions. Not because they believed him.Because they wanted to understand.As the sun disappeared beyond the hills, a warm pulse spread through Richard's body. Golden symbols appeared where only he could see them.Agricultural  Knowledge Increased.  Application Confirmed. Authority Resonance: 3%.A gentle current of mana drifted toward him from the surrounding fields, gathering like invisible streams around his body.

He could not yet control it. He could only feel it. It was as though the land itself had acknowledged his efforts. Richard looked down at his hands in quiet wonder."So this is how the Knowledge Authority grows..."That night, gentle rain fell across the village. By dawn, the first astonished cry shattered the morning silence. People rushed from their homes. Richard followed the commotion toward the fields. Every step made his heartbeat faster.

When he finally reached the farmland, even he stopped in amazement. Across the dark earth, countless tiny green sprouts had broken through the soil. HealthyVibrant. Alive. After three years of failure, the land had answered. The impossible harvest had begun. The villagers stared at the fields as though witnessing a miracle. Then another voice rose above the stunned silence."You've all been deceived!"

The village priest strode toward the crowd, his ceremonial robes billowing behind him. His face was pale with anger as he pointed an accusing finger directly at Richard."No ordinary man could awaken dying land overnight."His voice echoed across the fields."This outsider has not blessed our harvest..."His eyes burned with fearful conviction. "He has corrupted it."The priest's gaze swept across the villagers."Mark my words." What stands before you is not a saviour."It is a heretic."