SCT-Novel Chapter 389
Chapter 389
Shout-out to Ixxilus
Here is your bonus chapter, Enjoy~
Sidestory: Why is that Flower?
Author’s Note: This time, it’s a story that slightly deviates from the timeline within the work... It’s just a tiny glimpse into the future, so consider it as an extra episode. Since the timeline may become unclear due to the shifting of events, I thought I should mention it just in case...
Young Cyril Rudolvon had a passion for gardening and plants.
Why is this flower red?
Why does this one become fuzzy when it spreads seeds?
Why is this grass tall, and that one short?
He enjoyed dwelling on such questions while quietly observing the surrounding grasses, trees, and flowers. He adored reading books and discovering new information about uncommon flora. There were many unusual and magnificent flora in the world. There were flowers that bloom only in the morning; flowers that only show up at night. Grass that could feed itself insects. Trees that tower over castles. The exotic floral beauties never ceased to pique his interest.
His interest in plants changed over time from conceptual to practical. He used to be pleased to read about them, but now he was driven by a strong desire to develop them himself. To experience their distinctive qualities with his own senses.
The most rare flora were out of his reach, but that didn’t matter. He could locate marvels and miracles in his own backyard because they were everywhere. Even though they belonged to the same species, each individual blossom was different, and he enjoyed identifying each one. He soon found that his favorite activity was growing the flowers he loved in his own garden.
He was expected to behave correctly as a noble because he was a nobleman’s son. He needed to develop skills in leadership, horsemanship, and swordplay. He was under a great deal of stress as a result of them. Fortunately, nobles enjoyed gardening just as much as everybody else. Additionally, the Rudolvon family had a long history of farming. Given these facts, he believed he could continue engaging in horticulture, at the very least as a pastime.
He had no idea that his encounter with Mia Luna Tearmoon, the Great Wisdom of the Empire, would alter the course of his entire existence.
Rattle, rattle... rattle, rattle.
As it moved along the road, the carriage swayed back and forth. The same rural landscape stretched as far as the eye could see here at the empire’s outskirts, with shoddy roads that frequently fell into disrepair.
Cyril was traveling with Arshia toward the north, where they would eventually arrive at Outcount Gilden’s territory. Wheat harvesting season had arrived in the empire at the start of the summer. A trickle of unsettling news that had started out little was now turning into a torrent of anxiety.
“How is the yield on the Rudolvon lands doing, Cyril?”
Grimness was the reply to Arshia’s query.
“I’ve heard bad things. Evidently worse than previous year.
“I see... The same is true in Perujin. And the reason...”
Arshia’s eyes were squinted as she looked up towards the sky.
“...is very likely up there. The blessings from the sun wasn’t as abundant.”Alll latest novels on ? The kernels...are developing normally. Why is that?”
He heard his own voice in his head.
Why is one grass tall while the other is short?
His interest piqued. The wheat was so short, why? Why was it generating grains despite having a sickly appearance?
“Do shorter ones thrive better in the colder climates? No, hold on.”
He kept staring at it with wide, unwavering eyes. Arshia walked over after noticing that he had entirely stopped moving.
“Cyril? What’s the matter? Have you discovered anything on that wheat stalk?”
“I don’t believe that this is the same wheat that we cultivate in Tearmoon, Arshia-sama. It belongs to another species.”
“...What?”
The wheat in this area appeared identical at first glance, albeit unhealthy. The differences in appearance were hardly noticeable. These crooked specimens of wheat would have been written off as a bad crop compared to the other wheats grown well throughout the empire. However, there were variations, and thanks to his years of regular observation, Cyril’s eyes did not fail to detect them. Neither did they resemble any of the Perujin strains nor were they the same variety of wheat that the Rudolvons had planted. He knew it for a fact.
“Could this wheat variety be the one Her Highness was hoping we would find? Is that the reason she sent us to this frigid location?”
Flowers because being red was helpful in their habitat.
Because they benefited more from the sun’s light, trees were tall.
The fact that this wheat flourished in frigid climates made it resistant to the cold.
The physical characteristics of living organisms were adapted to the environment in which they developed. On that basis...
“I-It’s so obvious... I’m shocked that I didn’t consider it earlier. We need to look for wheat that is already flourishing in cold climates if we want it to be cold-resistant.”
The land and climate of Perujin and the Rudolvon area were both ideal for agriculture. Naturally, they were unaware of wheats that could withstand chilly conditions and shoot roots deep into cool soil. They never had to think about such things.
Cyril came to this conclusion while trembling subtly. He might in fact be useful to Mia. The useless information he had acquired from his excessive reading—a mere curiosity-sating pastime that no one had ever found interesting, save for his sister—was somehow...helpful?
He murmured in startling comprehension, “So that’s why Her Highness... She believed it would be beneficial. She had assumed as much from the beginning. She sent me here for that reason. She was demonstrating for me how to utilize what I already knew.”
He recalled the day she complimented him after seeing one of the flowers he had grown. She had recognized his potential through that flower, and now she was giving him the chance to realize it.
The road at his feet was illuminated by a ray of light that cut through the night. It moved ahead. There was only one thing left to do... walk it.
“Let’s obtain some samples of this wheat, Arshia-sama.” His eyes, like those of his Perujin guru, shone with the same hardened resolve as he said those words.