A hearty breakfast and an enjoyable chat with the farmer couple lessened Elian’s frustration with the Elder Giant’s curse. Elian insisted on helping with washing the plates. It used to be his task when he stayed here.

“Your clothes, Sir Ward.” Thalia peered at it. “What incredible quality. I’ve never seen such a fabric before.”

Polyester from Earth. Of course, she hadn’t encountered anything like it. “My father bought it when he visited the Nadpani Desert. This is common there. Light and airy, protects the skin from the harsh sun while keeping the body cool.”

“Nadpani Desert?” Wendell asked. “First time I’ve heard of that place. Your family is well-traveled.”

“Part of the business of trade.”

“I haven’t been to any desert. I wouldn’t step foot on one. My beloved Thalia and I are sticking to farmin’ this land of my father.”

“I’m actually interested in the business of farming,” Elian said. “Perhaps you can show me around? I’d love to help you with your chores.”

“Not much of a business of farmin’ here to show,” Wendell said. “I would describe our day as the business of stayin’ alive. But I’ll be glad to show you our humble farm. It’s humble, and I’m proud of it.”

Wendell took Elian to the animals and was surprised he knew how to feed them. This was also part of Elian’s daily duties in the first timeline. The groffs mooed and goat-like markhut bleated while he gave them food. With the animals fed and watered, they went to chop some wood next.

“I think I’m going to fail at this.” Elian nodded at the log while holding an axe. He had asked for a turn at the chopping block. He already knew this wasn’t going to work but might as well take the opportunity to test if this counted as an attack.

“You can do it, young man,” Wendell said after giving him tips on how to swing correctly. “Go on. Try it.”

Elian swung the axe as he had done many times in the past. The bladed head descended straight for the standing log.

“That’s it!” Wendell cheered. “You got—what?”

But Elian wasn’t able to cut the log. Only a small part of its blade bit into the wood, the weight of its head pulling it down. The Curse canceled his whole force.

Elian grinned, scratching the back of his head in faked embarrassment. “Better if I just help with stacking the logs.”

“Ye-yes. You can do that.” A distracted Wendell looked up from examining the axe. He must be thinking that he forgot to sharpen it.

Elian wracked his brains while arranging the logs against the side of the house. The Elder Giant’s Curse was more problematic than he thought. Can I get rid of it?

He knew of ways to remove Curses in general. It usually depended on who cast the Curse and how reasonable they were of a deity. Other deities could also step in and intervene, though most found it abhorrent to stick their divine noses in the business of others.

What about a Curse from the future? Could another deity dispel it?

Rather than puzzling over a possible impossibility, Elian decided to focus his energy on planning how to use the Curse to his advantage. As they say back on Earth, if life gives you Cursed lemons, make Cursed lemonade with it. Something would buy that if marketed right.

Throughout the day, Elian helped with other tasks, insisting on physical labor. He explained that it was payment for the food. Wendell didn’t want him to help because he was supposed to be a guest, so Elian then gave the fake story that he always wanted to work the land but his family never allowed him. There was something to the story of a rich man working as a farmer that made it endearing. Wendell and Thalia had a higher view of him upon hearing it. It helped that Elian was already familiar with what to do.

“Be prepared, young man,” Wendell said. “If you’ve never worked this much before, your muscles are goin’ to complain of soreness tomorrow. Ready with a health potion. I bet you can afford a good quality bottle or two.”

“I’ll cherish the soreness as proof of my hard work,” Elian replied, fully knowing that his inherent Armor would counteract the soreness. Another positive point for the Elder Giant’s Curse.

His Armor had increased by sixteen points—experiment done. He must’ve gained a single Attack Power as the physical labor strengthened his body. When he had the Lesser Boon of the Timekeeper’s Secret Gift, it took him four times longer to gain an attribute. When he had leveled the Timekeeper’s Secret Gift to a Greater Boon, the penalty lessened to only halving his attribute gain.

“I’ve never done any carpentry,” said Elian while observing Wendell repairing a fence. “With your guidance, maybe I can make something simple.”

The simple thing Elian wanted to make was a wooden shield. He tricked Wendell into teaching him how to build a short section of a fence but ‘accidentally’ fitted the planks close to each other. Two more planks secured the others, one bracing across the top and the other in the bottom. With this, he had something to use against the Myrclaw come nighttime.

“That’s, uh, a fence.” It was clear on Wendell’s face that he didn’t want to criticize Elian’s work.

Elian laughed. “I know I did poorly. This is more like a shield than a fence. Let’s just attach a handle here so it’d be a shield. Then I can say I didn’t make a mistake.”

Several minutes later, Elian had a shield.

Elian Ward | Human | Level:1

Health: 150/150

Energy: 50/50

ATTRIBUTES:

Attack Power: 0

Magic Power: 0

Armor: 1,716   

Magic Resilience: 0

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

The wooden shield gave a pittance of an Armor boost, as he expected, doubled by the Elder Giant’s Curse. This would do for tonight. It was a juvenile Myrclaw that would be groggy from sedatives administered to it for the trip. Whoever was in charge of the sedatives made a mistake because it wasn’t enough.

Come nightfall, the farmer couple offered their house to Elian while they’d sleep in one of the smaller barns. Elian declined, of course. He wanted to sleep in the barn because he missed the experience.

“If you insist for me to sleep in your house, I’ll leave,” Elian said. “Your house is your house. I’m not squeamish to sleep in the barn.”And if he was in the barn, he’d meet the Myrclaw first.

The previous time, he hid in the barn as the Myrclaw started killing the animals. He only got out when Wendell started to fight the beast and Thalia called for help. Both he and Wendell were injured in the fight, but they managed to drive away the Myrclaw. Elian was surprised at the bout of bravery that surfaced from the depths of his being. Becoming a hero was possible for him.

Such a chaotic night that was. The following morning, they learned that the Myrclaw was killed by the town guards after it had mauled another farmer.

Covering piles of hay with a blanket made them quite comfortable. Elian stared at the moonlight pouring through the window as he wondered about the changes to his plans given his predicament. His short-term goal remained the same—become stronger. Not sure what the definition of stronger would be now that all of his attributes got turned zero except for Armor.

He should figure something out soon and prepare for the first attack of the Giants eight months from now.

He closed his eyes and willed his body to sleep, a trick taught him by soldiers during the Siege of Tulla. He needed to rest his body for the action. It was only a couple of hours until the Myrclaw would come.

The frantic shrieking of markhuts awoke Elian. Grabbing the brand-new shield that he made, he rushed out of the barn to find the Myrclaw. The hound-like creature could reach the size of a lion on Earth. But this specific one was only half of that. Still very dangerous though even if it was drugged.

The full moon and the clear sky full of stars lit the farm. Elian kept his eyes on the shadows. A Myrclaw could cloak itself in darkness for almost perfect camouflage. It also moved faster while in the shadows.

A trail of fresh blood shimmered under the moonlight. Elian followed it to the carcass of a markhut with its stomach torn open. The Myrclaw left its prey because it sniffed out a better one. Up ahead were the stalls of groff cows nursing their calves. The Myrclaw would prefer the soft flesh of the calves.

By now, Wendell and his wife had stirred. Falling pots clanged. Wendell must’ve pulled his rusty spear that propped up the side of the faulty cabinet.

Two lanterns exited the farmhouse. One went to the barn—that was Thalia checking on Elian. Unlike last time, she wouldn’t find him hiding in the rafters. The other lantern fast approached as it swayed. Wendell’s spear glinted from the lantern’s light.

“Wendell, I’m here!” Elian shouted. His voice was drowned by the rumbling of the groffs.

“Sir Ward? What are you doing there?”

“Follow me! A Myrclaw is attacking your farm.” Elian didn’t wait for Wendell to catch up. With his shield raised, he entered the dark barn, barely lit by moonlight poking through holes in the roof.

The Myrclaw, hard to discern in the shadows, had cornered one of the groff cows in its stall. The cow’s calf trembled on the ground. The Myrclaw approached it. Its mother grunted but was too afraid of the Myrclaw to attack. They have been bred for generations to be docile.

“Tasty human over here!” Elian hooted and howled to draw the Myrclaw’s attention. “Come and get me!”

It worked. The shadowy predator dissolved into smoke and slipped through the wooden fence of the stall. Elian walked backward out of the barn. The Myrclaw followed him, returning to its solid form as it basked in moonlight. Elian retreated diagonally sideways. He wanted a certain angle to the wall. The Myrclaw slowly approached him, eyes burning red from its hatred of humans.

“I’m sorry for what they’ve done to you,” Elian said. “But I can’t let you kill more.”

“Sir Ward!” Wendell shouted somewhere behind him. “Get away from the beast!”

The Myrclaw snarled and poised to leap. Elian bent low and charged with his shield, slamming into the Myrclaw before it pushed off the ground. Didn’t hurt the Myrclaw but that wasn’t his goal. He continued with his rush and pinned the thrashing predator to the barn wall.

This isn’t an attack, he thought with a smirk.

On its hindlegs, the Myrclaw couldn’t push Elian back. But it could still hurt him as only a thin wooden shield separated them. The Myrclaw chomped on the top portion of the shield. It also tried to reach around with its forelegs. Claws slashed Elian’s clothes from the Nadpani Desert department store and wounded him.

Pain. But not much.

“For the Storm God!” Wendell speared the left flank of the Myrclaw.

The beast wailed but was still alive. It lunged forward, clambering over the shield’s chewed top. Elian leaned sideways while maintaining the pressure. The Myrclaw sunk its fangs into his shoulders. Broke some of them too.

“No!” Wendell cried out.

“Finish it! I’m not letting it go.”

Wendell ran his spear through the beast twice more, the last stab was into the neck. The Myrclaw let one last moan, unlatching its jaws from Elian’s shoulders, and slumped on him. Elian pushed it aside and discarded the remnants of his shield. It served him well.

He leveled up from the encounter and gained one Favor Point. Though he couldn’t use it for now. Lesser Boons and Curses needed only a point to progress, but their Greater counterparts required three. Two more levels before he could increase the tier of the Greater Curse of the Powerless Physical Immortal I.

“Are you alright?” Wendell took Elian’s right arm and draped it over his shoulder. “Let us return to the house and tie your wounds before you bleed to death.”

They found out that Wendell need not worry because Elian’s wounds weren’t as deep as would be expected from a Myrclaw attack. Well, Elian already expected this because he knew his Armor was massive for a human wearing only a shirt. It was as if his skin was padded leather. The Covenant displayed that he lost only twenty or so Health. Wendell and Thalia were the ones surprised.

“The Storm Gods bless us,” said Thalia, shaking her clasped hands at the ceiling. “How horrid for a Myrclaw to appear. Caught us unprepared. It’s not yet cold in the north for them to wander this way.”

“It probably came from somewhere nearby,” Elian said, trying not to smile. “A noble lost his pet.”

“Apologies for lackin’ the proper potions.” Wendell rummaged through the cupboard. “They’re mighty expensive for people like us to keep around. Turns stale too often. All we have are some herb pastes.”

“Those would work fine,” Elian said. The Abyssal Eye’s Curse diminished the effect of potions on him anyway.

Part of his plan was to rely on magical plants to sustain him in battle. He made impressive headway in his studies during his past life. A Boon for herbalism should be included in his Divine Bestowals, maybe from the Goddess Floralia or the Sabyn Twins of Autumn.

“We also have ale have for your pains.” Wendell shook a bottle. “Helps you sleep as well.”

Elian smiled. “I’ll take that too.”

The next morning, the town mayor arrived on horseback flanked by two of his guards in shabby equipment. Wendell had gone to town early to give word about the Myrclaw. Behind the three visitors was a fourth man with bronzed skin wrapped in cloths of different colorful designs held together by golden chains. The horse he rode was similarly decorated in Khazan’s flamboyant and intricate fashion. Elian recognized him as the subordinate of the beast dealer.

“Wendell, we came as soon as we could,” said the mayor. It was midday, so that was several hours from the time he was informed. Looking for the man in the colorful cocoon must’ve taken long. “This fine gentleman here is Malvar. He wants to compensate you for the damage the beast caused.”