Chapter 352 -: 351 Husband.
"Here, the land is very fertile, but because we have only around a hundred families, it is difficult to cultivate all the land available to us."
Ian stood before the enormous plot of land the village chief had brought him to. It stretched nearly a hundred and fifty meters from one end to the other, with its length reaching roughly a hundred meters, making it far larger than Ian had initially expected.
The soil itself looked dark and rich, clearly capable of producing a good harvest, but years of neglect had allowed nature to reclaim the place.
Thick vines crawled across the ground, weeds grew waist-high in some areas, and several young trees had taken root wherever they could find enough space.
Looking at the land, Ian couldn’t help but think that he could probably cultivate several different crops here once it was properly prepared.
Village Chief Jack looked at him and smiled. "The land is in a somewhat messy state, so clearing it should take you about a day. After that, I advise you to prepare the soil within three days. Everyone else has already started sowing the seeds on their land, so you shouldn’t fall too far behind them."
Ian gave him a solemn nod before reaching down and picking up the machete lying beside the other farming tools.
"Thank you, Village Chief. It is truly my wife’s and my good fortune that we happened to meet such a kind village chief."
He bowed with exaggerated sincerity, his expression filled with gratitude that was only partly genuine.
"Hohoho, it’s nothing worth mentioning," Jack laughed, waving his hand dismissively.
He took a few steps back before suddenly remembering something.
"Ah, by the way, I heard from our neighbor that your wife mentioned she knows embroidery. Would you mind if my daughter learned from her?"
Ian’s smile remained perfectly intact. "No, why would I mind? She knows quite a few things, so I hope she can be of some help to your daughter."
His voice was warm and polite, but inwardly, Ian was seething.
’That goddess! She specifically told me not to mention any of my skills, yet she casually revealed hers. I could have told the village chief that I knew how to use practically every weapon imaginable and offered to teach the villagers in exchange for money. Instead, I’m standing here preparing to become a farmer.’ The thought alone made him want to curse the heavens, but he swallowed his irritation and maintained his harmless smile.
"Alright, then. I won’t disturb your work anymore," Jack said with another smile before stepping away.
Ian immediately bowed again. "Thank you. I will work hard to repay your kindness."
He waved the village chief off with a pleasant smile and waited until the old man had walked far enough away before allowing his expression to collapse. The smile vanished from his face as he turned toward the enormous field before him.
For several moments, he simply stared at the vines, weeds, overgrown bushes, and scattered young trees covering nearly every part of the land.
He let out a long sigh.
Standing here and complaining wouldn’t accomplish anything. According to Jack, the other villagers had already begun preparing their fields, which meant Ian had little time to waste if he wanted to keep up with them.
More importantly, he had no money, no job, and no other reliable means of earning an income. Farming might have been humiliating for someone like him, but at least it was honest work.
"I don’t even have bullocks," Ian muttered resentfully.
With another sigh, he gripped the machete tightly and began working.
The sun climbed higher as Ian cut through the tangled vegetation. Thick vines wrapped around his legs and the trunks of the young trees, forcing him to clear them one by one before moving forward.
Each swing of the machete cut through another section of vegetation, and after several hours, the once-overgrown land gradually began to reveal itself beneath the mess.
Ian gathered the cut vines and weeds into several piles near the edge of the field rather than simply throwing them away.
He remembered reading a novel in which the protagonist became a farmer and somehow gained supernatural powers from everything he cultivated.
Unfortunately, Ian hadn’t been blessed with some ridiculous farming system, nor did his crops possess magical properties, but he did remember something from that novel that seemed useful.
Once plant matter decomposed, it could be used as fertilizer. He wasn’t certain how effective it would be in practice, but there was little harm in keeping the organic waste together.
Besides, he had nothing better to do with it.
Ian continued working without stopping, gradually clearing one section after another.
Sweat soaked through his clothes, his arms grew heavier, and his breathing became increasingly rough, yet he refused to rest for long.
His body might have been greatly weakened compared to what it had once been, but the endurance he had forged during his youth had not completely disappeared.
Before he had become the God Slayer, before he had fought gods and crossed countless worlds, Ian had once been nothing more than a young man trying desperately to become stronger.
He had spent countless days pushing his body beyond its limits, training until his muscles screamed and continuing even when he could barely stand. Compared to those days, clearing a field should have been nothing.
At least, that was what Ian kept telling himself.
By the time the sun had begun turning reddish and approached the horizon, the entire field had finally been cleared.
The vines, weeds, branches, and other useless vegetation had been gathered into a large pile at the corner of the land, leaving the dark soil exposed beneath the fading sunlight.
Ian stood in the middle of the field with his hands resting against his knees, breathing heavily as sweat dripped from his chin.
His long black hair clung to his face and neck in damp strands, while his clothes were soaked through with sweat.
Ian slowly straightened himself.
"...I’m exhausted."
The admission came with a faint disbelief.
He had fought battles that lasted for years without proper rest. He had crossed battlefields soaked in blood, fought monsters that could swallow cities, and endured injuries that would have killed ordinary beings countless times over.
Yet somehow, one day of clearing weeds and cutting vines had left him struggling to catch his breath.
Ian stared at his trembling arms before giving a bitter smile.
"So this is how bad I’ve become."
For the first time since arriving in the village, he genuinely felt the difference between his current body and the one he had once possessed.
He had known that he was weak now, but knowing something intellectually was different from experiencing it firsthand.
His endurance was still there, his instincts remained sharp, and his mind was as dangerous as ever, but his body could no longer keep up with him.
He looked toward the darkening sky.
Perhaps he really didn’t have as much time as he thought.
Ian let out a tired sigh and picked up the farming tools. There was no point lingering in the field any longer.
The work for today was finished, and the remaining task of preparing the soil could wait until tomorrow. He gathered the tools and began walking back toward the village.
By the time he returned, night had already fallen over Rock Wood Village. Yet unlike what Ian expected, the settlement was still lively.
Warm lights shone from the windows of the houses, people could be heard talking from different courtyards, and the occasional laughter drifted through the night air.
The peaceful atmosphere felt strangely unfamiliar to someone who had spent most of his life surrounded by battles and destruction.
Ian ignored it for the moment and continued toward his house.
Heaving another tired breath, he finally stepped into his courtyard.
Perhaps the evil goddess had heard his footsteps, because the door opened almost immediately.
His wife walked out.
She wiped her hands against the hem of her dress before hurrying toward him, and the moment she saw his exhausted appearance, she immediately handed him a large jar of water.
Ian accepted it and drank deeply, allowing the cool water to soothe his parched throat. After lowering the jar, however, he gave the goddess a long, suspicious look.
She was smiling at him.
Her eyes were soft, her expression gentle, and there wasn’t even the slightest trace of the terrifying goddess who had forced him into this ridiculous mortal life.
She looked completely immersed in her role as a wife.
Ian narrowed his eyes slightly.
’Damn it.’
If he hadn’t known who she really was, he might have genuinely believed that she was the perfect wife waiting patiently for her husband to return home after a long day of work.
The goddess smiled sweetly at him.
"Welcome home, husband."