Chapter 13

After he rested for a while, he started thinking about what to do. His first reflex was to visit the border to harass the undead forces while also testing those ritual sites. One thing stopped him.

The potential starvation of Stratholme.

He wanted to be able to dismiss that as a distant risk. After all, they still had three weeks of food. There was a chance that the next group of refugees would arrive without food. If their population tripled, their stockpile would only last for a week. That didn’t even account for the risk of sabotage. The Cult of the Damned had already pulled that trick several times. And, while he was confident he could distinguish tainted grain easily, that would do nothing to fix the problem.

Worse, the Scourge wasn’t the only source of issues. Garithos could send an assassin or two to burn their granaries, rivals might appear, or other issues might occur.

He wouldn’t have focused on it, but one interesting detail changed his mind.

Expert Biology.

The information that flooded his mind had a lot of information, both about humans and about plants. In that information, there were many ways to develop food with higher yield.

The information suggested that such experiments usually required generations.

Bloom gave him a chance to bypass that.

The best place to experiment was, naturally the Windrunner Spire. He ran, Momentum allowing him to cover the distance in less than an hour.

The tunnel to Windrunner Spire welcomed him like an old friend, the air clearer and filled with mana.

He emerged at the edge of the estate. However, as much as he wanted to start with Biomancy immediately. Instead, he started with his blade. After he had received the strength bonus, he hadn’t expected to need improvement in that aspect, but the battle against the abomination taught him that he needed to improve.

He also used the chance to test Call Lightning ability. It was a strong spell … unfortunately, it was also a mana hog. It could be used in Windrunner Estate, but outside, all of his meager reserves would barely zap a target.

Using mana to empower his sword strikes was far more effective, which was why he focused on that practice.

Only after one hour of steady practice, he moved to the edge of the estate, and found himself a small, unkempt garden, filled with weeds and other wild plants.

He reached into his bag and pulled out the seeds he had brought for this exact purpose. Wheat, potatoes, carrots, onions, beans, lentils, and lettuce. Even the choice had been informed by his newly acquired information. Apparently, that spread was the best option between healthy and fast-growing.

Cleaning the weeds would have taken some time … but with Bloom, all he needed was to give a mental command and they moved away, the mana density helpful. He then spread the seeds, and pushed their growth.

Mana density allowed them to grow in less than a minute. He could have pushed it even faster, but he had also been trying to control their seed generation phase. Trying to adjust their growth was difficult. The information from Biology and Bloom didn’t match perfectly.

Luckily, Talented was there to bridge the gap, each attempt teaching him some more.

He started his real work with wheat, which was still the staple food of the land. Under the control of bloom, the stalk emerged in seconds, shooting upward, leaves unfurling, the grain head forming at the top with a speed that would have been terrifying to anyone watching.

Within a minute, he had a fully mature wheat plant, its head heavy with kernels that glowed faintly. He plucked a kernel and examined it. Not with his eyes, but through Bloom, with Expert Biology helping him to interpret the results.

The results were difficult to ascertain directly, but comparing them with the previous generation, he could see that the grains were a touch larger. He repeated, the cycle shortening with every attempt.

Fifteen minutes, and thirty cycles later, it was difficult to believe it was the same plant. Kernels were larger and fuller, with each stalk carrying thrice the grain. The stalk was shorter to handle the weight better.

The quick surprise didn’t surprise him. Ultimately, with the skill, he could see how much of a compromise common wheat was, prioritized for handling a variety of environments over yield.

For him, only two things mattered. Growth efficiency under Bloom, and resistance against the blight. The former, he improved greatly, but he couldn’t be sure about the latter. He had some impressions of how Blight worked, but those were only vague impressions. Ultimately, Expert Biology Skill didn’t include a magical education, and the Blight was a weird combination of sickness and curse.

He moved to potatoes next.

Potatoes presented a different challenge. Where wheat was about maximizing grain yield, potatoes were about increasing their disease resistance first and limiting their impact on soil.

By the twentieth potato generation, he had something remarkable. Tubers that grew to the size of his fist in half the normal time, dense and nutritious, their skins thick enough to resist diseases.

It wasn’t perfect. They would still suffer under even the light concentration of blight, but it should be enough to deal the corruption.

He repeated the same trick on the other foods, though with them, in addition to nutrition and yield, he focused on their impact on the soil. Mana reduced the impact of the rapid growth on the soil, but Stratholme wouldn’t have the same mana density, draining the soil.

So, he made sure that the lentils and beans would replenish the land as much as possible, so that a sustainable crop rotation could be achieved.

It felt a weird thing to focus on, but considering the Scourge was putting such a great focus on destroying the land, prioritizing how to maximize the small amount of safe land he had seemed like a good idea.

As for optimizing the food that could be grown without his assistance, he didn’t focus on it immediately. Thinking about how to defend farmland for three months was too much to consider.

Especially since he didn’t know what would happen in three days.

Once he finished optimizing the staple food, he was struck with a sense of whimsy, and optimized a couple of bushes of berries, and a small patch of strawberries. However, unlike the others that prioritized efficiency, he prioritized taste.

He even wrote a note of thanks to Sylvanas. She seemed to enjoy the taste last time. It was a good way to thank her for her support.

Opening her ancestral home to him was not a simple thing. Without the abundant mana, his progress would have been much slower.

“Too bad I can’t spend all my time here,” he said with a sigh, once again cursing that he didn’t have a few months to properly train and experiment with his abilities.

On his way back, he swung by the village first, and saw that most were already training with the newly acquired weapons. Their progress was slow, but every bit helped. Especially since all they needed was to slow down the enemy, giving him the time to counter-attack.

He spent a few minutes to make sure their morale was good before he turned and departed for Stratholme, once again choosing to take an irregular path to maximize the benefit of Momentum, Bloom giving him a good idea about the presence of undead in a five-mile radius.

The first thing he noticed was that, after their strong presence at the border, the rest of their presence was thinner.

The difference was noticeable, both in terms of the number of patrols, and their size. Instead of teams of ten, ghouls roamed in teams of three.

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Destroying their rituals seemed to spook them even more than their border region.

It also confirmed something important. The Scourge’s resources, while vast, weren’t infinite. Lordaeron might be filled with bodies ready to be raised, every graveyard a ticking bomb; but it required the attention of necromancers and acolytes.

He realized that delay might be the difference between life and death. However, he was also aware that not only his safety but also the safety of everyone in Stratholme, depended on straddling the balance between being a nuisance, and being a threat.

If he had turned into a threat too soon, things would go badly.

He still destroyed the patrols as he got closer. Almost a thousand ghouls, zombies, and skeletons fell to his blade. He even came across multiple refugee groups, and all of them. He pointed toward Stratholme before he continued.

A few asked questions, but most did not. They were too happy to have a clue about the direction, even if the direction was a city that was supposed to be abandoned and in ruins. They were too tired, too frightened, and too desperate to do anything but nod and continue in the direction the man with the glowing sword pointed.

The sun was rising when he turned north again, returning to Stratholme. His body was running on Total Concentration and willpower, the edges of exhaustion creeping in despite Natural Restoration’s steady work.

Even with all of them, sleep was a necessity. Not a full eight hours, maybe, but he still needed to rest for a few hours.

He once again sneaked through the walls, mostly because the supposed story was that he was in his room, resting. It was not the greatest story, but it was better than shouting where he was.

He sneaked back to his new room, changed his clothes, took a quick bath, and left the room.

Halford found him before he could. “My Lord,” he said. “I hope everything is all right.”

“Mostly,” he replied, and gave him a quick breakdown of the state of the undead, including the rituals in the south and the buildup at the elven border. These were not secrets.

In return, Halford followed by a report of his own, both the settlement of refugees, and the stockpile. “Basically, in everything except food, we have a significant surplus. Most of the businesses, including blacksmiths, tailors, and other sources of craft, is untouched. We even found a warehouse filled with weapons ready to be shipped before the disaster struck.”

“Really? I expected the survey teams to discover them.”