CHAPTER 2: LIFE ON THE FARM
The morning sun filtered through the cracks in the small farmhouse window, casting soft golden rays across the room where the young man still suffering from amnesia lay. His body, which he believed may have once been powerful, now felt like it had been shattered and painstakingly glued back together like some broken vase. Every muscle screamed in protest as he shifted slightly, trying to sit up. It was all he could do to no cry out from the torture he was experiencing. Pain radiated through his chest and limbs, a constant reminder of how close to death he had come.
The young man winced, his breath shallow. The sharp sting in his ribs and the constant itching from the wound that ran diagonally across his chest constantly gnawed at him as he tried to remember what happened.
Notification: Regeneration Skill Progress – 50% to Basic
"I wonder how long it will take me to learn that skill and what will it do once it gets to the basic level. Will it continue to level every time I get hurt and have to heal? Will it get to the point that I can heal from anything? Ah, I'm getting ahead of myself. First, I need just to get better. The rest will work itself out.
He could feel the slow, steady work of his body's healing process. It wasn’t fast, but every day he noticed the smallest of improvements. Bruises faded. Gashes closed up. But despite the healing, he was far from whole. Each movement brought with it a wave of discomfort that he couldn't ignore.
"Time to get up," he muttered to himself, swinging his legs off the bed, grimacing as his muscles protested. The room seemed to sway for a moment, and he had to grip the edge of the bed for balance.
"Easy does it." Lyra's voice came from the doorway. She stood there, arms crossed, watching him with a mixture of concern and impatience. "If you want to keep lying around all day, that's fine. But we’ve got work to do."
Work. The thought sent a pang through the young man's still-fragile body, but he knew she was right. Lying around would only slow his recovery. For some reason, the desire to get stronger seemed to be all-consuming. It was like an itch he couldn't scratch. He needed to get stronger, and that meant pushing through the pain.
"I left some clothes on the chair they should fit you. Get dressed. I will wait outside the door for you."
The young man did as he was told and when he finished getting dressed he opened the door to find Lyra waiting in the hallway.
"Do they fit?"
He nodded and took a few steps outside the door, his legs trembling slightly under the weight of his own body. Lyra gestured toward the door, and with slow, careful steps, he followed her outside.
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The farm was modest but bustling with life. Chickens clucked as they wandered the yard, a few pigs rooted in the mud near the fence, and in the distance, the sound of the creek could be heard trickling through the trees. The cool morning air was a refreshing contrast to the stifling heat of the small farmhouse, but it did little to soothe his aching body. The sun's rays had just begun to kiss the picturesque landscape around him making the sky a beautiful canvas of yellows and oranges.
"The well’s over there," Lyra said, pointing to a large stone structure a few yards away. "We need water for the animals. We will also need water for bathing and cooking. You’re up for hauling, right?"
He stared at the well, feeling a knot form in his stomach. The two buckets that he he to use to carry the water were attached by a pole and string. He gulped as ran his hand around the rim of each bucket. They looked solid and heavy, and the thought of pulling it up, full of water, made his ribs throb in anticipation of the effort.
"I can handle it," he said, though he wasn’t sure if he believed his own words.
"Good man", she replied as she patted him gently on the shoulder.
Lyra walked away towards whatever chores she needed to do. The amnesiac stood between the two buckets and placed the pole across his shoulder. Lifting the two buckets was not as difficult as he thought. He started making his way to the well. His hands wrapped around the rough rope, and he gritted his teeth as he pulled the bucket up. Each pull sent a jolt of pain through his chest, but he kept going, focusing on the task at hand. The water sloshed as the bucket rose higher, and when it finally reached the top, he hauled it onto the stone ledge and dumped it into one of the two buckets he had to fill.
Notification: Physical Fitness Skill Acquired – 10% to Basic
The all-consuming pain was becoming like a fly that kept buzzing around his ears. It just wouldn't go away. His body screamed at him to stop, to rest, but he couldn’t. He had to keep moving. Suddenly, words came to his head.
Pain is weakness leaving the body.
"What in the world?! Where did that come from?"
He just shook his head and thought that maybe it was some of his memories coming back. He continued filling the water into the buckets and eventually made his way back to the house. Each step seemed to take everything he had and more but something in the back of his mind spurred him on. Something in him that refused to quit. He refused to stop. He refused to give up on this. His body ached and his veins bulged His toughness continued and he made it back to the house and dumped the water in the containers.
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By mid-morning, Alexander was chopping wood. His hands gripped the axe tightly, the muscles in his arms trembling from the effort. His ribs felt like they were on fire with every swing, but the rhythm of the work had its strange appeal. Swing, split, stack. Swing, split, stack. The repetitive motion allowed him to forget, for a brief moment, the agony that wracked his body.
The blade of the axe cut deep into the wood with a satisfying crack, splitting the log cleanly in half. He exhaled, wiping the sweat from his brow, and raised the axe again.
Notification: Axe Mastery Skill Acquired – 5% to Basic
Each swing of the axe sent a jolt of pain through his ribs, but with every log he split, there was a sense of accomplishment. His muscles were sore, his body protesting every movement, but slowly, he could feel strength returning to his limbs. The repetitive motion of chopping wood forced his body to adapt, to regain its lost power.
Notification: Regeneration Skill Progress – 55% to Basic
He grunted, lifting another log onto the stump, and setting it in place. His breathing was labored, his chest tight, but he swung again.
Crack.
The log split cleanly, falling in two, and he quickly moved to stack the pieces on the growing pile. The work was backbreaking, but there was something satisfying in the labor. Each completed task felt like a small victory, a step closer to reclaiming his strength.
Notification: Axe Mastery – 15% to Basic
"Not bad," Lyra said from behind him, arms crossed as she watched him work. "But don't overdo it. You'll just end up back in bed if you push yourself too hard."
"I’m fine," the young man replied, though his body was telling him otherwise. The muscles in his back ached, and his arms felt like lead, but he wasn’t going to stop. He couldn't stop. It was like something was driving him.
Lyra gave him a look, but she didn’t press the matter. Instead, she nodded toward the animals. "Go help Amara with the pigs when you're done here."
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By the time he finished with the wood, his entire body felt like it had been run over by a cart. The pigs snorted as he approached on shaky legs, rooting through the dirt for food. Amara, Lyra’s daughter, was already tending to them, throwing scraps into their pen.
"You’re looking better," Amara said with a smile, though her eyes flickered with concern as she noticed his labored breathing.
"Looks can be deceiving," he muttered, wiping the sweat from his brow.
Amara chuckled softly and handed him a bucket of feed. "Here, help me with these."
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He took the bucket, his arms trembling slightly from the weight, and began scattering the feed. The pigs snorted and shoved each other out of the way, eager for the food. One particularly large pig nuzzled up against him, its wet snout brushing against his leg.
He hesitated for a moment before reaching down and patting the animal gently. The pig grunted in approval, and a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. He had never worked with animals before, but something was calming about it.
Notification: Tame Beast Skill Acquired – 5% to Basic
The pigs were surprisingly easy to manage, and as he continued to feed them, he felt a small connection forming between himself and the animals. They were simple creatures, but their presence was oddly comforting.
Amara watched him with a grin. "Looks like they like you."
"I guess so," he said, patting another pig on the head as it snuffled at his hand.
Notification: Tame Beast – 10% to Basic
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Days passed, and with each one, the young man's strength slowly returned. The work was grueling, and his body constantly reminded him of how fragile he still was. But the more he worked, the more he felt his body mending itself. Each task, no matter how small, pushed him toward recovery.
Each morning began with hauling water from the well. His ribs ached less with every pull, and the muscles in his arms began to regain their strength. His movements, once slow and labored, became more fluid as the days passed.
Notification: Physical Fitness – 20% to Basic
The afternoons were spent chopping wood. The rhythmic swing of the axe became second nature to him, and the sting in his ribs slowly dulled to a manageable throb. He could feel his mastery over the axe improving with each swing, the blade finding its mark with more precision.
Notification: Axe Mastery – 25% to Basic
Evenings were spent with the animals. The pigs had grown accustomed to him, and he found himself growing more comfortable around them. He had even begun to anticipate their needs, knowing when they were hungry or restless. The bond he was forming with them, however small, was another sign that he was recovering, not just physically, but mentally as well.
Notification: Tame Beast – 20% to Basic
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One morning, after finishing his chores, he decided to try something different. His body was still far from fully healed, but he was feeling stronger with each passing day. It was time to push himself further, to see just how far he had come.
He found a quiet spot near the edge of the farm, where the trees cast long shadows over the grass. Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes and focused. He could feel the faint hum of mana coursing through his body, a power he had only just begun to understand.
His hand clenched around the axe, and he raised it slowly, feeling the weight of the weapon in his grip. With a deep exhale, he swung the axe, letting his mana flow into the motion.
Crack.
The wood split cleanly, and he felt a surge of energy rush through him. He swung again, this time with more force, letting the mana guide his movements.
Notification: Mana Manipulation Skill Acquired – 10% to Basic
He grinned, wiping the sweat from his brow. The axe felt lighter in his hands now, the weight more manageable as he channeled his mana into each swing. His body still ached, but the pain was becoming easier to bear.
For the next hour, he practiced. Each swing became smoother and more controlled. The wood split with precision, and the mana flowed more easily through him.
His breaths grew heavier, the exhaustion catching up to him after the continuous effort. He could feel the energy within him, the hum of mana pulsing through his muscles, but it wasn’t a limitless well. Each swing of the axe drained him slightly, and his body, still recovering, wasn’t ready for prolonged use of mana.
As he paused, resting on the stump of a felled tree, a dull ache in his ribs reminded him that he wasn’t invincible. The wounds he had suffered still lingered, though they had stopped being constant, stabbing pains. His regeneration was working, albeit slowly.
Notification: Regeneration Skill Progress – 65% to Basic
It was subtle. The healing wasn’t visible, but he could feel it. His ribs, once unbearable, now only sent occasional pulses of pain through his body. The bruises, once purple and dark, had faded to yellow and green. He was healing from the inside out, but it wasn’t enough to make him forget the reality of his weakened state.
As he leaned back, staring at the sky, the familiar ding of his notifications brought a sense of accomplishment.
Notification: Axe Mastery – 30% to Basic
Notification: Physical Fitness – 25% to Basic
Notification: Mana Manipulation – 15% to Basic
The numbers were creeping up, slowly but steadily. Every task on the farm, no matter how menial, was improving him. His physical fitness was growing more robust as he hauled water, chopped wood, and tended to the animals. His control over mana was improving as he infused his work with the energy that once seemed foreign to him. He was getting better, bit by bit.
Still, there was a long way to go.
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As the sun began to set, he found himself at the pig pen again, alongside Amara. She moved with grace, feeding the pigs with a practiced rhythm that seemed effortless. He, on the other hand, was slower, his limbs still heavy from the day’s labor.
“Good job today,” Amara said, flashing him a quick smile. “I see you’re getting stronger. Faster, too.”
“Feels like I’m barely holding together,” he said tossing feed into the pen. The pigs grunted with contentment as they snuffled through the food. “But I’m not dead yet.”
Amara laughed softly. “That’s a start. You’re doing better than most would after those kinds of wounds.”
He paused, watching the pigs. He had grown fond of them, in a way he never expected. They were simple creatures, but their dependability had a calming effect on him. It was almost meditative, working with them.
One particularly large pig, which Amara called Old Bristleback, waddled over and nudged his leg. He smirked and patted the animal’s coarse bristles.
Notification: Tame Beast – 25% to Basic
Amara noticed the affection between the two and nodded approvingly. “You’ve got a knack with them. Not everyone can get along with Old Bristleback.”
He looked at the pig, a slight sense of pride swelling within him. He never thought working on a farm would give him satisfaction but here he was, bonding with pigs and genuinely enjoying himself.
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That night, as Alexander sat by the fireplace in the small farmhouse, his body sore but not broken, he reflected on the progress he had made. The farm work had strengthened him, forcing his body to adapt and heal faster. It had sharpened his skills, not just physically, but mentally as well. Every day, his mastery over simple tasks improved, and with it, his connection to the world around him grew stronger.
He reached up to touch his ribs, feeling the faint ache beneath his fingertips. His regeneration was still at work, mending him slowly, inch by inch. It would take time, but the process was happening.
Lyra entered the room, carrying a tray of food—bread, cheese, and a small pot of stew. “You should eat,” she said, placing the tray in front of him. “You’ve earned it.”
The young man nodded gratefully, the smell of the food making his stomach growl. He hadn’t realized how hungry he was. As he ate, he noticed Lyra watching him with a thoughtful expression.
“You’re getting stronger and your wounds are looking better,” she said quietly. “But you should pace yourself. You don’t need to prove anything to anyone.”
“I’m not trying to prove anything,” he replied quietly, swallowing a mouthful of stew. “I just need to get better. Faster.”
Lyra nodded but said nothing. She had seen enough men push themselves to the brink to recognize the signs, but she also knew this man was different. There was a look in his eyes that reminded her of her husband. She couldn't put her finger on it but something was driving him—something more than just survival.
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The following morning, he was up before dawn. His body ached from the previous day’s labor, but he forced himself out of bed. As he stood a series of cracks and pops filled the room. His movements were stiff and slow. He rubbed his hand along his chest and the angry red scar was still painful but not nearly as much as it had been weeks ago. The young man pushed the thoughts of his wounded body out of his mind. He had chores to do, and the sooner he got started, the better.
As he moved through the farm, the routine was starting to feel familiar. Hauling water from the well, chopping wood, feeding the animals—each task felt less like a burden and more like a way to rebuild himself. His muscles, though still sore, responded with greater ease. His movements, once hesitant and painful, were becoming more fluid.
Notification: Physical Fitness – 30% to Basic
His progress was gradual but noticeable. The farm work, though simple, was exactly what he needed to rebuild his strength. It pushed his body to its limits while also allowing him to recover in a controlled way. And with every task, he grew more confident in his abilities.
By the time the sun had fully risen, he was knee-deep in muck, cleaning out the pigsty. It was dirty, backbreaking work, but as he shoveled the slop, he found his thoughts drifting back to the days when he was a fighter, a warrior with a purpose. He wondered if he would ever reach that level of strength again.
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Late in the afternoon, after finishing his chores, he found a quiet spot on the edge of the farm. The air was cool and still, the trees swaying gently in the breeze. He took a deep breath and sat down, letting the calm of the surroundings wash over him.
Closing his eyes, he focused on his breathing, feeling the mana flowing through his body. The skill was still new to him, but each day he felt more in tune with it. Slowly, he channeled the mana into his muscles, feeling them respond to the energy.
Notification: Mana Manipulation – 20% to Basic
It wasn’t much, but it was progress.
He continued to sit there, letting the mana circulate through him. His body still ached from the day’s labor, but the pain was manageable. His regeneration was working, though at a slow pace. He could feel it, deep within him, mending his body little by little.
Notification: Regeneration Skill Progress – 70% to Basic
As the sun began to set, casting long shadows across the farm, he opened his eyes. His body was tired, his muscles sore, but there was a sense of satisfaction in that. Pain was no longer the paramount thing that he felt. He was getting better, stronger. Slowly but surely, he was reclaiming his strength.
He stood, stretching his limbs as he prepared to return to the farmhouse. The work was far from over, but for the first time in a long while, he felt like he was making real progress. The farm, with its simple tasks and grueling labor, had become his training ground. And as the days passed, he knew he was inching closer to the man he had once been.
But as he walked back toward the farmhouse, the thought lingered in his mind: would he ever be the same again? Would he ever reach the strength he once had? Was I ever really strong to begin with? For right now he would settle for this slow, steady progress and hope for the best?
Only time would tell what would happen in the future.