Fairy Tale Survival with Ability Copying

One day later.

Both the Sea Serpent Merchant Guild and the Sword and Flower Caravan agreed to Levi's terms.

One week later.

Several large ships came cutting through the waves beneath full sails.

After nearly half a month had passed—

For the first time, foreign merchant ships arrived at the port of Coldwind Keep Town.

Over the following days, more large ships gradually arrived one after another.

The local sailors and dockworkers immediately became excited, because when ships arrived, there was work. And with work came income. Otherwise, they could only obey the Lord's Manor's arrangements and join the labor crews to do hard manual work in exchange for food.

These large ships brought huge quantities of flour, along with armor, longswords, linen cloth, and other supplies the territory desperately needed. In turn, the ships carried away the priceless Whale Brain Oil.

The ships departed, but the goods they left behind entered the town market, reactivating the local economy.

In truth, however, their greatest benefit to the town was restoring the people's confidence.

Although Levi had already won over the vast majority of both the townspeople and refugees through the grand feast he held for everyone, deep down, many still doubted the future of the town.

After all, the entire town remained under blockade.

The four sperm whales looked enormous, but there were over ten thousand people in the town. Even if they rationed carefully, let alone a month, the food might not even last half a month.

And after that?

What would they eat?

Everyone knew that the land of Hornreach could not grow grain.

That had already become deeply rooted common sense over hundreds, even thousands, of years.

Levi had organized the refugees into agricultural work crews, opening up vast strip fields around the town and planting Bittervine throughout them. The vines had already taken root and sprouted.

But what was the point?

Vines could not be eaten like bread.

Because of that, many people in the town still remained deeply worried.

Until this moment.

The merchant ships of the Sea Serpent Merchant Guild and the Sword and Flower Caravan sailed into the harbor of Coldwind Keep Town.

It was like sunlight dispersing the dark clouds hanging over the town.

The atmosphere throughout the entire settlement immediately changed.

That indescribable feeling of oppression vanished without a trace.

...

Another week passed.

It had now been over twenty days since Levi ordered the agricultural crews to plant the Bittervine.

Ever since the vines had rooted and sprouted, the cuttings above ground had barely changed at all, remaining in a half-dead state.

That was also one of the reasons why the townspeople had placed so little hope in them.

But hidden from sight, the roots of the Bittervine spread underground like countless secret serpents, frantically burrowing through the earth, avoiding the deadly salt near the surface while driving deep underground in search of even the faintest traces of freshwater.

Then, on the twentieth day—

The townspeople woke up one morning to discover that the strip fields had undergone a heaven-and-earth transformation overnight.

The vines spread and intertwined at a speed visible to the naked eye.

The leaves became thick and succulent, their surfaces covered in a fine layer of white salt frost.

That was the unique survival instinct of the Bittervine: after absorbing excess salt into its body, it actively expelled the surplus through its leaves, crystallizing it into glittering grains of salt.

When the people of Coldwind Keep Town heard the news, they rushed over in disbelief to inspect the fields for themselves.

And it was true.

They were so shocked they could barely speak.

That entire day, the town was unusually quiet.

After learning about the situation, the local representatives of both the Sea Serpent Merchant Guild and the Sword and Flower Caravan rushed over immediately to confirm it personally.

And when they saw the lush, flourishing Bittervine growing across what should have been barren salt flats, their expressions instantly became complicated.

Almost simultaneously, they both turned to look toward the castle.

This mysterious lord's background might be even more complicated than they had imagined.

Then another seven or eight days passed.

The once patchy gray-white salt flats had now been completely covered beneath a gigantic, endless net of dark green vegetation.

When the wind swept across the fields, it no longer stirred clouds of salty dust into the air. Instead, it lifted wave after wave of green foliage, producing rustling sounds like the quiet singing of the earth itself.

The vines never flowered or produced grain.

Instead, the joints and lower stems gradually swelled into irregular flattened starch tubers, wrapped in thin pale-brown skins and packed with dense flesh.

Someone curiously broke one of the starch blocks open.

An intense and distinctive bitterness immediately spread through the air, making him frown hard.

"So bitter!"

"Can this thing even be eaten?"

It could.

Levi was absolutely certain of that.

Because he had personally created it.

Another two or three days passed.

Levi personally arrived at the strip fields.

Even without using Detection, Levi could tell at a glance that the Bittervine had fully matured.

Every member of the agricultural work crews had gathered there, all watching Levi.

Even the town's original residents had crowded over.

Their expressions were complicated as they stared at the scene before them.

Levi silently nodded to himself, then said to the people beside him, "Begin."

A loud bell rang out.

The agricultural crews immediately surged into the strip fields, harvesting both the mature starch tubers—which resembled sweet potatoes—and the vines and leaves themselves.

In less than four hours, harvest piles resembling small mountains had formed beside the field ridges—

On the left were mountains of tubers, their gray-brown skins wrapping around snow-white hope.

On the right were bundles of salt-rich leaves, green with streaks of silvery white.

And in the middle were the discarded ordinary vines and withered leaves, which would later be used as fuel or fertilizer.

The strip fields were completely cleared.

To their surprise, the townspeople discovered that the land no longer seemed as severely salinized as before.

Of course, they did not truly understand what soil salinization was.

It was simply a feeling.

They felt that the land had somehow become better.

It seemed that after planting the Bittervine brought by the Lord, the soil itself had improved.

If they continued planting it, would the land improve even further?

Could these fields eventually be used to grow wheat and barley as well?

If that were true—

Then this land would no longer be worthless...

Among the crowd, certain people began harboring different thoughts.

At that moment, seeing the harvested goods piling higher and higher, Levi gave another order: "Transport everything to the town mill."

Then he turned to Yalina and added, "Yalina, calculate the final yield later."

"Oh, right." Yalina froze for a moment before nodding.

There were extremely few ox carts and horse-drawn wagons in the town.

As a result, the townspeople themselves stepped forward one after another, using every method they could think of to carry the Bittervine starch tubers and leaves back toward the town.

The town mill had already completed its preparations long ago.

Today, it would turn for these tubers.

Inside the mill, the massive stone grinders rumbled loudly as they rotated.

The cleaned tubers were poured into the hopper, where the grinding stones crushed and squeezed them apart. Milky-white slurry flowed out along the stone channels, then went through settling, filtering, and drying before finally becoming snow-white starch powder that was as fine as flour—yet emitted an intensely bitter smell.

Yalina calculated the results from the side and discovered that the starch extraction rate was not particularly high, only around one-tenth.

Meanwhile, after several days of rough calculations, the final yield of this harvest of Bittervine had also produced an approximate figure.

Roughly one million pounds.

With a one-tenth starch yield rate, that meant this harvest could produce approximately one hundred thousand pounds of Bittervine Starch.

That number was extremely impressive.

And the only reason the yield was limited to one hundred thousand pounds was because the planting area itself had been limited.

If they expanded the cultivation area, the output would undoubtedly rise dramatically.

Previously, the only reason Levi had planted such a small area was because he had not possessed enough Bittervine cuttings for propagation.

But now that the Bittervine harvest had succeeded, using the vines for cuttings would allow the planting area to expand tenfold—or even a hundredfold beyond its current size.

The second-generation propagated Bittervine would suffer obvious degradation, with yields reduced to only half of the original.

But once the planting area expanded enough, output would no longer be a problem.

There was only one issue left.

How were they supposed to turn this Bittervine Starch into food people could actually eat?

That task was handed over to Hans, the town's old baker.

He was ordered to use the Bittervine Starch to bake something edible.

It was the Lord's command.

So old baker Hans got to work.

He processed the starch the same way he would normally make bread.

The result—

Hans frowned deeply as he stared at the bizarre "dough" in front of him.

It was nothing like the dough he was familiar with, the kind carrying the fragrance of wheat and a faint yellow tint.

This was a grayish-white sticky mass lacking the elasticity of gluten. It felt rough and unpleasant to the touch, like a lump of cold wet mud.

Worst of all was the smell.

When Hans leaned closer to sniff it, a sharp and overpowering bitterness rushed straight into his nose.

The odor was like some horrifying blend of burnt tree bark, unripe medicinal herbs, and rusted metal. Merely smelling it made saliva uncontrollably rise at the back of his tongue.

Hans felt nauseous.

"Can this stuff really be turned into bread?" Hans muttered, though his hands never stopped moving.

He divided the grayish-white mass into pieces, flattened them, and shoved them into the blazing oven.

Then, as the temperature rose, something strange happened.

The dough did not puff up like normal bread.

Instead, it became hard and dense.

The surface rapidly hardened into a deep purplish-brown color, as though it had been scorched black by fire, while the inside still retained that unsettling gray-white color.

Half an hour later, the first batch of Bittervine Bread came out of the oven.

As steam rose from the fresh bread, the bitterness not only failed to disappear—it became even more tyrannical under the heat.

The entire bakery was instantly filled with the pungent smell. Even pedestrians outside could not help covering their noses.

Someone outside shouted in dissatisfaction: "Old Hans, what the hell are you making in there?!"

"Shut your mouth, you idiot!" Baker Hans roared back fiercely. "I'm helping the Lord with his work!"

The people outside instantly fell silent.

With trembling hands, Hans broke apart one of the freshly baked loaves.

As the steam dispersed, it revealed an interior so dense it looked like stone.

He hesitated briefly before tearing off a small piece and stuffing it into his mouth.

"Pwah—!"

Hans's expression changed instantly.

He bent over violently and spat the bread onto the floor, coughing desperately until tears streamed from his eyes.

"It's too bitter! This is practically poison!" he shouted in horror. "My tongue's gone numb! You can't even swallow this stuff!"

"Anyone else want to try it?"

The assistants exchanged glances with one another.

Not a single person dared take a second bite.

This kind of bread—

Let alone humans, even starving rats would probably go around it.

"We can't hand this in like this..." Hans muttered as he wiped away tears, staring toward the corner where several precious sacks of ordinary flour—the last remaining supply—were stored.

"Mix it in." Hans gritted his teeth, determination flashing through his eyes. "Mix in the flour! Even if it's only a little, maybe it can suppress that damned taste."

The assistants obeyed.

...

And so, the second round of experiments began.

Hans remade the dough using a one-to-three ratio—one part flour to three parts Bittervine Starch.

The addition of flour finally gave the dough a trace of elasticity, and its color shifted from deathly gray to a dull earthy yellow.

Into the oven it went again.

Another round of baking began.

When the second batch of bread emerged from the oven, the suffocating pure bitterness had weakened slightly, replaced instead by a heavy and complicated bitter aroma.

It was like drinking an overboiled medicinal soup. The smell was still unpleasant, but at least it no longer made people want to vomit on the spot.

Hans broke off another piece and cautiously took a bite.

This time, he did not spit it out.

The bitterness still stubbornly dominated his taste buds, lingering from the tip of his tongue all the way down his throat. Even the aftertaste carried a faint astringency. On top of that, the bread itself was coarse, dry, and hard, like chewing wood shavings soaked in medicine.

But at least now it was barely edible.

The people of Coldwind Keep Town were hardly in any position to be picky.

...

The results were quickly reported back to Levi, the lord of the territory.

One hundred thousand pounds of Bittervine Starch output!

By mixing the starch with flour at a three-to-one ratio, they could produce bread that was at least barely edible!

The final estimate suggested they could make approximately two hundred thousand loaves of Bittervine Bread—assuming each loaf weighed roughly 1.5 pounds.

This kind of bread, high in starch, low in gluten, and baked relatively dry, was extremely resistant to mold. It was perfectly suited for long-term storage as military rations or disaster relief food. It could remain edible for half a year or even a full year without spoiling, though it would gradually become harder and harder over time, eventually requiring soaking or boiling into soup before eating.

An adult engaged in heavy labor would need to consume roughly 1.5 to 2 pounds of this dense, starch-heavy bread per day.

That was approximately one adult's daily requirement for Bittervine Bread.

Coldwind Keep Town had a population of roughly eleven thousand people.

That meant the town would require approximately twenty-two thousand loaves per day.

Two hundred thousand loaves of Bittervine Bread could sustain the town for roughly ten days.

But in reality, only those engaged in heavy physical labor needed to consume that much bread every day. Many people would not require such large amounts.

Which meant the actual duration could stretch much longer—perhaps fifteen to twenty days, depending on circumstances.

And the town did not rely solely on Bittervine Bread.

The fishermen still went out daily.

Occasionally, game hunted from the Mist Swamp also appeared in the markets.

There was still a large stockpile of dried whale meat carrying its heavy muddy taste.

And there were vegetables as well, such as small amounts of cabbage and lettuce.

Not to mention whale oil and fried oil residue.

Even without the outside grain supplies brought in by merchants, relying solely on these resources would allow Coldwind Keep Town to endure for an entire month without any problems at all.

And not merely survive.

People could still eat their fill and eat reasonably well.

And after one month, the next harvest of Bittervine would be ready again.

Once the planting area expanded, even if the per-unit yield dropped, there would still be no problem doubling the overall output.

In other words—

Coldwind Keep Town had already gained the ability to sustain itself independently. It no longer needed to fear outside blockades—

As long as Levi remained there.

Because this entire system depended heavily on the Bittervine provided through Levi's Synthesis.

Without Bittervine, Coldwind Keep Town would instantly revert to its former state.

But then again—

Because Bittervine absorbed salt from the soil, repeatedly planting it in saline-alkali land would dramatically reduce the land's salt content, eventually transforming it into ordinary farmland.

And once that happened, the land could be used to grow other crops, such as wheat, cabbage, lettuce, and similar produce.

By that point, even without Levi continuously providing Bittervine, the entirety of Hornreach would still be capable of sustaining itself.

The Bittervine Levi had created truly was extraordinary.

Even in modern society, it would be priceless.

At this moment, Levi understood even more deeply just how terrifying Synthesis truly was.

Although the spell was not especially suited for combat, when applied elsewhere, it was practically a divine ability.

In Levi's mind, its importance ranked second only to Detection.

The Bittervine Levi had created not only massively increased the food self-sufficiency rate of the once-dead land of Hornreach—

It also produced another product.

Salt Leaves.

The Bittervine absorbed salt from the saline soil, then expelled it through its leaves.

These Salt Leaves were collected, washed with water, and then simply boiled down once to produce refined salt.

In this era, that too was hard currency.

A massive amount of labor throughout the territory was mobilized to process the Salt Leaves.

In the end, the amount of refined salt produced reached over fifty tons.

The result left Yalina so shocked she could barely close her mouth.

Even though both she and the Sky Knight Rune had already been stunned countless times before.

Fifty tons of refined salt.

At current market prices, ten silver coins could purchase a pound of refined salt.

That meant these fifty tons of refined salt were worth the equivalent of ten thousand gold coins.

Of course, prices were never fixed.

If Hornreach suddenly dumped such an enormous quantity of refined salt onto the market, the market would undoubtedly experience violent fluctuations.

And more importantly—

These fifty tons of refined salt were not a one-time harvest.

As long as they continued planting Bittervine, the entirety of Hornreach would effectively become an inexhaustible salt mine with extremely low extraction costs.

Its minimum monthly output would be fifty tons of refined salt.

That level of production was enough to completely collapse the entire salt market.

Levi had no intention of doing that.

But at the same time, such an enormous quantity of refined salt truly did need to be dealt with somehow.

After pondering for a while, Levi instructed Yalina, "Open a salt shop in town. Sell salt at low prices, but the discount only applies to town residents."

"Alright. What price should we set?" Yalina asked.

"Sell it at one-third of the current coarse salt price. As for the specifics, handle it however you think best," Levi replied.

"Mhm." Yalina thought for a moment before saying, "If we do that, even ordinary fishermen will be able to afford salt and be willing to preserve their catch. That means the fish can last much longer. It'll be a good thing for them."

Levi nodded.

This was merely one of the changes brought about by the explosion in refined salt production.

He continued, "Now that we have Bittervine Bread, along with the grain brought by the merchants, we no longer need to worry about food supplies."

"Starting today, improve the meal standards for the agricultural crews, labor crews, military units, and members of the town guard."

"Understood," Yalina responded.

"And regarding the low-priced grain we've been selling in town," Levi continued, "lower the prices a little more."

"That won't be a problem..." Yalina nodded, then hesitated before speaking again. "But there's an issue now."

"The town's original residents have gone too long without income. Even though our food prices are already very cheap, they're still reaching the point where they can't afford them anymore."

"The fishermen are fine—they can still go fishing in exchange for food. But the others don't have that option."

"Some of them can't hold on any longer and have already voluntarily joined the labor crews to exchange work for food."

Levi paused after hearing that.

Although processing the four sperm whales last time had required a massive amount of labor from the townspeople, and he had paid them reasonably generous compensation afterward—

That was not normal.

The normal situation was that large portions of the town's population were slowly eating through their savings until they had practically nothing left.

What Levi currently operated in town was a half-planned, half-market economy.

The refugee side functioned under a semi-planned system: labor in exchange for food, with almost no monetary compensation.

Meanwhile, the original townspeople still lived under a semi-market economy.

They still had to use money to buy food.

And clearly—

They were running out of money.

They had no income.

This time, Levi remained silent for even longer.

He understood that reform had become necessary.

At the very least, the people needed income.

Money had to circulate outward. Only then could the territory truly come alive again.

The emergence of Bittervine had finally given the territory's economy a stable foundation instead of an empty illusion built in the air.

But the problem remained the same.

Levi still needed to carry out reforms.

At last, he spoke.

"I'll solve this issue," Levi said to Yalina.

"For now, go handle the things I mentioned earlier."

"Alright." Yalina nodded and left.

Levi then turned toward Rune.

"As for the guard members and the military personnel, continue their training. Later on, they'll need to be separated based on performance."

"The outstanding soldiers and the best members of the town guard will become the territory's regular army."

"As for the others, they'll be reassigned into security personnel responsible for maintaining public order throughout the territory."

"Understood, Lord Levi."

Rune responded before also walking out.

Soon, Levi was the only person left in the hall.

He lowered his head and remained silent for a long time, sensing the magic power within his body gradually recovering to a usable level.

Blue light flickered within his eyes.

Detection activated.

The magic power inside his body was instantly drained to the bottom once again.

[Your Detection has reached the upgrade requirement. It can now be upgraded.]

'Upgrade,' Levi thought.

Inside his Sea of Soul, the spell crystal belonging to Detection seemed to melt apart before rapidly condensing once more at visible speed, transforming into a newer, more complicated, and more mysterious spell crystal.

Level 6 Detection!

A Third-Ring Spell-level Detection!

Levi's very first Third-Ring Spell!

During his time managing the territory, he had used this spell day and night without rest, finally grinding it up to the level of a Third-Ring Spell.

And with the birth of this Third-Ring Spell, changes also occurred within his Sea of Soul.

Its boundaries expanded.

Its overall strength increased.

Levi's Spiritual Power had already reached the limit of a Second-Ring Wizard long ago.

But under the transformation of his Sea of Soul, his Spiritual Power seemed to break through some invisible barrier.

His Spiritual Power reached 60.1 points, surpassing the absolute limit of a Second-Ring Wizard.

Levi had officially become a genuine Third-Ring Wizard!

Third-Ring Wizards were also known as Grand Wizards, standing far above First-Ring and Second-Ring Wizards.

When First-Ring and Second-Ring Wizards used their innate spells—the spell crystals within their Sea of Soul—their power output was fixed.

Third-Ring Spells, however, were different.

Or more accurately—

Third-Ring Wizards were different.

When casting Third-Ring Spells, they could freely control the spell's power by adjusting the amount of magic power they poured into it.

Take Levi's Wizard's Hand as an example.

If he eventually raised that spell to the level of a Third-Ring Spell as well, Levi would be able to freely regulate its power.

He could use only a tiny amount of magic power to activate it and pick up a single sheet of paper—

Or he could pour every last drop of magic power he possessed into the spell, unleashing its power to the absolute limit.

---

I will post some extra Chapters in Patreon, you can check it out. >> /TitoVillar

---