The dust from Jagdish's retreating jeep had barely settled when a heavy, suffocating silence fell over the field. The villagers, who had been huddled in fear just moments ago, stood frozen like statues. Their eyes were wide, darting between the spot where the unnatural flames had vanished and the young man standing alone in the center of the scorched earth. To them, Han was no longer just the hardworking orphan who grew potatoes to survive; he was someone who had commanded the very spirit of the earth to rise and strike his enemies. He looked like a guardian of old, his silhouette sharp against the fading sunlight.
Han's heart hammered against his ribs like a trapped bird desperate for escape. Despite his outward appearance of calm, he didn't feel like a hero. His legs felt weak, like water, and as the adrenaline slowly faded, it left behind a bone-chilling shiver. He ignored the fearful whispers of the villagers—some calling him a sorcerer, others a saint—and knelt in the damp soil. He went straight to the spot where the silver sprout had unleashed its freezing mist to save him.
The earth here felt different. It was warmer, almost vibrating with a rhythmic pulse that Han could feel through the soles of his boots. As he brushed away the loose, darkened soil with trembling fingers, a rectangular object began to emerge from the depths. It wasn't made of stone, nor was it ordinary iron. It was a slab of deep, midnight-blue bronze, etched with glowing silver runes that pulsed with a soft, ethereal light.
The moment his skin made contact with the cold metal, a sharp static shock jolted up his arm, making the hair on his neck stand on end. His vision suddenly blurred, and he was no longer standing in his small village in Jalpura. For a split second, he saw flashes of a world that defied logic—vast, emerald plains under the glow of three different moons, and giant figures tilling the land with glowing tools that hummed like thunder. He felt a deep, aching sense of loss, as if a forgotten part of his own soul recognized this ancient object.
"Han! Are you alright? Speak to us, lad!"
The raspy voice of an old villager broke his trance. Han quickly pulled his hand back, gasping for air as if he had been underwater. He realized he was sweating profusely despite the cool breeze. The tablet lay there, half-buried in the dirt, its glow fading into a dull, mysterious hum.
"I'm fine, Uncle. Just... a bit dizzy from the heat," Han lied, his voice cracking. He quickly covered the tablet with a piece of old, dirty sackcloth he found nearby. He knew instinctually that if Bimal Singh or any government official found out about this, the gasoline jeep would be the least of his problems. This was a power that people killed for.
[System Notification: Ancient Artifact Detected!]
[Scanning... 10%... 45%... 100%]
[Identity Confirmed: The Tablet of Timeless Cultivation (Fragment)]
[Host, you have uncovered a legacy item,] the System's cold, mechanical voice rang clearly in his mind, ignoring the chaos outside. [The Tablet of Timeless Cultivation allows the farm to bypass the laws of nature. It is the key to evolving your crops beyond the Mortal Grade and unlocking the secrets of the Soil of Life.]
"How do I use it? It feels... empty," Han whispered, clutching the heavy, cold object to his chest under the cloth.
[Current Status: Locked. Requirement to Unlock: Level 5 Farm or 500 units of Spiritual Harvest. Warning: The manifestation of the protective vines has drained 80% of the field's total energy. The Spiritual Silver Sprout is entering a 'Dormant State' in 6 hours due to energy starvation.]
Han's blood ran cold. The silver sprout was the only thing keeping his farm—and his life—safe from the greed of men. If it withered and died now, Jagdish and Bimal Singh would be back by sunset tomorrow, and this time, they wouldn't come with just words and a single jeep.
"Where do I get energy, System? I don't have months to wait for a harvest!" Han cried out in his mind, desperation clawing at his throat.
[Proximity Alert: Energy signature detected in the 'Ghost's Maw' forest on the northern ridge. Low-grade Spirit Stones or Essence Herbs can be found there to recharge the soil.]
Han looked toward the dense, misty forest that loomed over the edge of the village like a sleeping beast. The 'Ghost's Maw' was a place even the bravest local hunters avoided after dusk. Legend said the trees moved at night to trap the unwary, and the mist swallowed men whole, leaving nothing behind. But as Han looked at his wilting silver sprout, he felt a surge of raw determination. His father had always told him that a true farmer's greatest duty was to protect his seeds, no matter the cost.
He tucked the tablet securely under his arm and headed toward his small, dilapidated shack to grab his old, rusted machete. He had exactly six hours to save his farm. The stakes were no longer just about survival or paying off debts; he had stumbled upon a mystery that could change the world of farming forever, and he wasn't about to let it slip through his fingers.
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