The sun was shining gloriously up in the sky. Standing proudly like a brilliant diamond amidst a sea of silky blues and graceful rolling clouds that decorated the heavens.

So that it all came together to form an almost magical canvas of colors above our heads.

At the same time, the breeze was soft and refreshing. Caressing my skin like a thousand masseuses working in tandem.

The air carried the sounds and smells of the forest out in the distance. Intertwined as it was with those sensations and impressions that arose from the verdant fields and well-fertilized crops at our feet.

And here I was. Losing myself in how indescribably wonderful each subsequent moment felt, now that I was surrounded by so much vibrancy. So much life in its purest, most raw form.

Every breath I took felt more wonderful than the last for some reason. My lungs taking in growth and nourishment and re-birth. Each and every one of my cells screaming in joy alongside the crops I had grown. As if every new day was reason enough to throw another festival. A celebration in honor of what we had accomplished. In honor of how we had transformed this mostly-barren, rocky terrain at the edge of the woods.

'Holy cow. This must be what all those yoga gurus keep going on about when they talk about mindfulness.' I thought to myself.

A stupid grin blossoming on my face.

It was weird. I should have felt discomfort. After all, I had been working for hours upon hours and days upon days ever since that fiasco with the green beans. Unable to do much outside of hard physical labor in order to get Mr. Robertson's new pet project off the ground.

I had always disliked getting dirty. Always.

So, working on some rocky trails way off outside of town should have been a bad proposition. Especially since I was supposed to practice the new [Terraforming] skill by turning this lot into something useful. I felt as though I was being pushed into bad situations so that I could fail in controlled environment. So that the others could get a handle on the limits of my magic.

Only, I didn't fail and this project soon became a beacon of happiness. A source of purpose and ecstasy that I had never quite experienced before.

'Is this what uncle Uter meant when he was telling me to do something I loved? That doing what you loved never seemed like work? Was I just meant to become a farmer? Is this my calling in life?'

Somehow, that didn't seem right. I knew it had something to do with magic. Coach Russell and Casper had both confirmed as much. They claimed that those people who created things with their magic always felt a deep connection to their craft. That this was no different.

'If that's the case, then this was the best core I could have possibly gotten. I mean, holy cow. I feel so connected with everything in this moment. I feel so alive. So happy. Oh my goodness. I didn't know it was possible to feel like this.'

Better yet was the knowledge that this outing served to train me further. Only in regards to my Vitality and Endurance, but still. The spike in my growth had been a wonder to behold.

'And it gets even better when I think about how long it has been. Only two weeks for this much improvement.... Come to think of it, did I ever improve that fast in the Dungeon? Well, that isn't exactly fair. I was always the least capable on my team, and the only delve I did since getting my core resulted in that whole thing. I guess I'll have to go down there again after they finish purging the first ten floors. I need to see if there are still more efficient ways to level, now that I have my new magic more or less under control.'

I placed another sack of potatoes on top of the truck. Noting how the wheels groaned as the load was added on top of the already prodigious pile. How the solid steel behemoth seemed to shrink as the tires burrowed themselves deeper into the ground.

In the back of my mind, I imagined what the vehicle might be saying, if it were able to talk. Probably something along the lines of what dissidents said when the Stasi took them into custody. A lot of begging, if nothing else.

I looked to the other three trucks present. Furrowing my brow slightly as I checked my Analyzer.

'Casper's late. So are the rest of his family. We had a great pace going and he's letting it all go to waste. We've only filled a couple hundred trucks today and it's only noon. We can squeeze out a lot more produce. Or, we could potentially do that, if he and his came back and started teleporting the goods to their destinations. Oh well. I guess we'll have to start piling them on the ground.'

I flexed my core and felt the magic flow through my muscles. Warm streams of blissful tranquility and quiet strength dancing their way into the earth, until new sprouts came up to greet me. Erupting and thickening and intertwining into themselves before hardening into a solid platform made up of a hard, bark-like structure.

The makeshift pallet was, by itself, a wok of art. Yet another reminder of how good the open sky and fertile soil made me feel. How deeply the presence of so much undergrowth touched me.

I wiggled my bare toes into the soil and let out a satisfied murmur.

'Yes, this must be the work of magic. There is no way anyone normal would feel this good doing farm work, or else, the whole world would be nothing but farms and their caretakers.'

I placed the other load I was carrying there and turned to the others. Frowning as I took in how little progress they had made.

"Come on guys! What's the holdup!?" I shouted back.

"Death." Drew panted.

Her hair discolored and disheveled as it clumped together into sweaty knots. Her body was shaking too. Which was very odd indeed, since she was only carrying one sack of giant potatoes on her shoulders, instead of the two that I had so happily lugged around.

Hers was half the size of mine too. Weighing in at less than a ton. Well under a ton, in fact.

"I think I'm dying." She wheezed. Her legs wobbling in a manner oddly reminiscent of a newborn fawn.

"Quit being melodramatic." I said. "You guys are behind your quotas today. I mean, you've been behind for a good week now, but this is getting ridiculous."

"RIDICULOUS!!!??" Ramji bellowed. Throwing his own sack into the ground.

His eyes were bulging out. Red veins reflecting the soothing sunlight as some veins in his forehead throbbed. Making him look as if he were some overstuffed balloon seconds from bursting.

"We've been working for twenty five hours straight! Twenty five hours! TWENTY FIVE HOURS! In case you missed that, that is one more hour, than there are hours in a day! A day is twenty four hours! TWENTY FOUR HOURS!"

Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

"Yes Ramji. I heard you the first time."

"Did you!? Did you really!? Then why in the name of everything that is good and holy, are we still working our butts off in this weather, when we could be relaxing in our hot tub!"

"My hot tub." I corrected him in a soft voice. "I know it's mine because it's in my mansion. The mansion that I got for helping Mr. Robertson with issues like this one. Like, you know, world hunger. Now, you guys are my friends and I'm living with my family anyway, so I don't mind you using it whenever you want. But, I hope that you would understand that the mansion came as a reward. That means that, without us doing this to stave off world hunger, there is no hot tub. There is no arcade with a dedicated VR room and all the new consoles. There is no robotic massage center."

Well, technically it had been a reward for my continued assistance with those artificial Dungeons Mr. Robertson wanted to make, but they didn't need to know that.

"Besides, you make it sound as if it's some great sacrifice or something. Your stats are higher than mine and it isn't as if you were doing anything with your time anyway. We can't delve until coach Homer and his crew finish de-beaning the Dungeon, so we might as well do this to train. I mean, come on! Not only are we getting stats without having to risk anything, but we're also making a positive impact on the world! Think about how many people out there will have potatoes and watermelons and apples and mangoes on their plates thanks to us! I mean, granted, I don't know exactly how bad the situation is on the outside, but making more food to feed the hungry has never been a bad thing! Right?"

Ramji started blinking aggressively at me. His dark skin turning an odd shade of red as he stammered whilst clenching and unclenching his fingers.

"You!" He began. His right eye twitching with barely suppressed rage.

"You want us to stay awake all day, everyday and do this?" He waved to all the giant produce around him. "This!?"

I placed one of my hands on my head. Struggling to reconcile his obvious displeasure with the joy I was feeling.

I wanted to de-escalate the situation, but it was hard for me to find the right words.

"Yes?" I began. "For the moment anyway. I mean, we do want to get stronger, right? Why wouldn't we do this to make good use of our time?"

Ramji started blinking even faster. Both his eyes twitching in uneven intervals as if he were about to have a stroke.

"Dude. Stop." Marco said from the side. His hulking form now shrinking as he placed five more bags filled with potatoes into the pile I had started.

"Ramji is right. We've been training non-stop this whole time. That isn't healthy. You need to have periods of relaxation in between workout sessions. Or you'll pull a muscle or something."

I looked down at my body.

Then at my Analyzer. My fingers working their way to the new patch that showed me exactly when, how and by how much the numbers rose.

[Vitality: 7.3 -> 7.9 (Over two weeks.) - (Heavy physical labor. Lifting upwards of 600 Kg in constant repetition.)]

[Endurance: 6.7 -> 7.7 (Over two weeks.) - (Heavy physical labor. Lifting upwards of 600 Kg in constant repetition. Frequent running while bearing heavy loads for prolonged periods of time.)]

[Potency: 4.8 -> 5.1 (Over two weeks.) - (Heavy physical labor. Lifting upwards of 600 Kg in constant repetition.)]

[Precision: 4.9 -> 5.2 (Over two weeks.) - (Frequent usage of skills in new ways. Frequent practice with restraining magic outflow to skills and directed meditation while training. Frequent experimentation with different doses of magical exposure with produce.)]

[Fortitude: 6.5 -> 7 (Over two weeks.) - (Heavy physical labor. Lifting upwards of 600 Kg in constant repetition.)]

Name:

Cecil Fowler

Core:

[Life] (7th Stage) / Gains skills from: [Adaptation] / [Constitution] / [Healing] / [Hunger] / [Effort] / [Animal] / [Plant]

Level:

1

Vitality:

7.9

Endurance:

7.7

Potency:

5.1

Precision:

5.2

Fortitude:

7

Skills:

[Drain] / [Perseverance] / [Heal] / [Transform] / [Spawn] / [Terraform] / [Over-Mind]

I looked at those numbers for a log, long time. Then at my friends.

"Yeah. No. I think this is perfectly healthy and I'm going to keep doing it for as long as I get results."

Marco finished shrinking back to his usual size before shrugging his shoulders.

"You do you, I guess. I'm out of here."

I scoffed at that, though, perhaps I shouldn't have.

"Come on Marco. You can't tell me you haven't gotten a fair share of the gains from this. Look at your Analyzer and tell me those numbers aren't encouraging."

"Oh no. They are. But it's still too much. I mean, dude, we're 14 years old. We can't be doing this all day every day. There's more to life than stats."

The sheer ludicrousness of that statement hit me like a slap to the face.

"Wha.... I mean... yeah but.... dude! Your parents literally dropped by this morning to brag about how proud of you they were! They were stoked about how much you were training!"

"Yeah dude. Of course they were. Cause it's me going above and beyond what's expected. By a lot. Thing is, I don't think I want to do that constantly. It's stressing me out."

He took a deep breath and held it in for a few seconds. When the breath came out, it was with a resigned heave that seemed to leave him even smaller than before.

"Look. I'm not saying that we won't come out to help you again. We will."

Ramji shot him a look.

"I will." He corrected. "But only after I've had a few days to myself."

"I need to go home." Drew chimed in. "Just because we can stay awake doesn't mean we should. I'm tired, Cecil. I'm exhausted and filthy and I... I just can't. If I wanted to break myself training I'd go to coach Russell."

"Oh come on." I protested. "That's a bit too much. I'm not like coach Russell."

"You are!" Ramji screamed. His hands going up above his head as he tried to shake some sense into an unseen person who was roughly my height.

"You're just like coach Russell! You seem nice and you pretend to care and then you turn out to be a freaking psychopath who breaks themselves for fun! Well I've had it! I'm going home!"

----------------------------------------

I kept working after that. Moving more and more sacks while my friends went home to relax.

"I'm not in the wrong." I told myself.

"There is a literal monster apocalypse around the corner. Of course I'd be practicing with magic as much as I could. Of course I'd be training as much as I could. Of course I'd want to be the best version of me that I could possibly be. To do anything less would be stupid. It could get me killed. Worse, it could get my family killed. Even guys like coach Russell and coach Homer, as freakishly strong as they are, still train on the regular. I'm making the right choice. Even uncle Uter agreed that I should apply myself to the farm."

"That's because he doesn't want you going into the Dungeon." A voice spoke from the side.

I turned to see coach Russell standing there. A sack on his shoulder and an impish grin on his face.

"Well, someone's been working hard."

"It's the least I could do." I told him, truthfully.

"That isn't exactly true, but I admire your enthusiasm all the same."

He placed the sack into the fifth platform I had created, as the three trucks from before were still sitting prettily in place. Looking as if the weight of a single fly might snap them in two.

"Casper hasn't come by to pick them up." I told him.

"I know." He answered happily. Moving away as soon as he dropped his latest sack and leaning against a nearby tree.

I took his meaning and followed him. Leaning against another tree nearby.

"Are we just going to sit here and do nothing?" I asked coach Russell.

"Well, yeah. Not much we can do at this point." He answered.

The sun's rays making his beard glisten.

The only moisture on it had come from the magical sprinklers though. I couldn't remember a single time when the man had been tired enough or warm enough to sweat.

'Then again. It has been two weeks since I let out any sweat.'

The physical reaction simply felt too distant now.

Too human.

Indeed, every passing day made me forget more of what it had been like to be normal growing up. So that things like cramps or headaches or morning grogginess felt more like distant dreams instead of memories.

'It's so strange.' I thought to myself. 'It's as if the old Cecil was never me. Like he was some larva. A cocoon that waited to become me. The new, more powerful, magical me. I wonder if butterflies feel like that too. I wonder if they remember what it was like to be a caterpillar munching on leaves. I wonder if they sometimes miss the feeling, or if they're constantly enraptured by the prospect of flying.'

No one answered my questions.

I was alone, with no one but coach Russell and the wind for company.