YoTS: Lord January ~ 5!

CHAPTER 5

*Cock-a-doodle-do!*

Grant jerked awake, startled by the rooster, and plucked pieces of hay from his hair. “Oh, man. A hangover two days in a row? I'm becoming a regular Januarian.”

He extracted himself from the pile of hay he had flopped onto last night and stretched stiff joints. The soft glow of the sun peeked out from over the horizon. Orange shards of light filtered through the trees and fence posts, painting everything an orange hue. Sunrise was his favorite time of day. The world was still and peaceful. Most people were sleeping, and would be till noon, after a night of partying hard.

“A new day, full of new opportunities.” Grant’d had some crazy dreams. Something about cow pats and swords in the sky? He laughed at the thought, then glanced at a familiar object, the wheelbarrow at the side of the barn. His breath caught in his throat. “If that was real… what about the rest? The sword!”

He crept over to the wheelbarrow, then thought twice about looking inside. He had to do this. Peering over the rim, there lay February Twenty Nine, sitting half buried in cow pats! “Oh. I’m dead. I’m a dead man.”

He picked it up by his fingertips and ran into the barn, tossing the sword in the nearest hiding spot he could find: deep within the pile of hay. The sword was now literally a needle in a haystack! No one would find it there.

*Cluck.*

“I don’t care if you find it, Frank. Drat, right. You must be hungry,” Grant turned to a chicken pecking away at an apple core. “Apples… ugh.”

After his run in with the cider, he never wanted to see another apple again. A quick splash of water to the face and he was ready to face his day, completely putting the previous day’s event out of his mind. The chores went quickly, and much easier than normal for some reason.

Grant had a spring in his step as he ran round the farm. He fed Daisy and the other cows, did the milking, and collected the eggs. All the usual activities of his morning routine. He even spent an hour gathering fruit; apples, oranges and pears from the orchard. He was sweating lightly by the end and breathing hard, but he wasn’t in the sweaty mess he was in yesterday. He dug into an orange, savouring the sweet meat and trying not to let too much juice escape down his chin. He found his increased stamina rather strange but he wasn’t complaining.

“Status.” The status sheet materialised.

Name: Grant Monday

Class: Wielder

Cultivation Achievement Level: 1

Cultivation Time: 2:24 Hours (Time to Next Level 997:34 Hours)

Cultivation Stage: Early Spring

Inherent Abilities: Swirling Seasons Cultivation

Health: 59/59

Mana: 1/1

Characteristics

Physical: 6

Mental: 2

Armor Proficiency: 3

Weapon Proficiency: 3

Wielded Weapon: "February 29"

Weapon Inherent abilities:

1) Weapon Absorption: This sword has the ability to absorb the power of another Wielded Weapon, taking its ability into itself. Restriction: Only one weapon per Monthly series.

2) Locked

3) Locked

4) Locked

Weapon Absorbed abilities:

1) None

2) None

…

12) None

Spells Known

1) Elemental: None.

Quests (2 active)

“Okay. I gained two hours and twenty-four minutes of cultivation time… how? Inherent Abilities: Swirling Seasons Cultivation, what are you?” Grant read over the information that became available to him when he focused on the line in his status.

Inherent Abilities: Swirling Seasons Cultivation. Any physical or mental exertion that can be used for the cultivation of characteristics will be automatically applied as cultivation time. This cultivation manual is one of the slowest, at a one-to-one minute of effort to minute of cultivation conversion rate. Seek out other manuals or methods to achieve faster cultivation on any individual characteristic.

“This… I can cultivate! I don’t know how, though? Automatically applied, I understand that, but what counts?” Grant looked at his status and struggled to do the math he needed. “The reward for that quest was a twenty percent boost to Weapon Cultivation for twenty-four hours following the completion of the quest ‘Beat the Bully’, right?”

His eyes glanced down at his status, then all the way up again. Something wasn’t right. A lot of things weren’t right. “Cultivation Achievement Level one? How in the name of the twelve Lords and Ladies did I get that?”

Grant looked closer at the status sheet. There were many more information fields than he was used to. Several times his eyes glanced over the name Monday. “Monday. Monday… Grant Monday! Oh no… what have I done!”

Wielded Weapon: February 29.

As much as he wanted to get rid of the weapon, it was now bound to him, part of who he was. He glossed over the other information that he had no way of understanding. His characteristics had increased. That explained why everything was just a little bit easier today. Weapon absorption and weapon absorbed abilities…? None of that made any sense. He had no idea what a ‘monthly series’ was, and he didn’t like the sound of it.

The final stat that caught his attention was ‘Quests’. As far as he was aware, there should only be one active quest. He stared at the word, almost too afraid to look. The quest tab flipped open. There were pages upon pages of completed quests, each with a line through them. The great majority were easy grey common quests, with the odd uncommon green quest, like the quest ‘Beat the Bully’.

Quests, like loot, had a ‘color’ assigned to them to help people sort easily and by color. This went from Common grey, Uncommon green, Rare blue, Epic purple, to the final Legendary gold. Ignoring the expired quests, he looked up at the active quests. The optional grey quest ‘Cow Pat Collector’ was there.

“It should have been mandatory,” Grant scoffed at the thought. If he failed to deliver the quest to his caretaker, Randall, he’d get a whooping or worse. That left one quest. It was mandatory, and unlike the other one, it appeared in an ornate golden frame, with a pattern of golden dragons and interlocking swords. It had the title ‘Heal the World’. He swallowed hard, and wanted nothing more than to close the quest tab at that moment. But… the quest was both active and mandatory. Curiosity led him to open the tab and find out further information.

Quest: Heal the World (Legendary)

Grant Leap, by picking up the Wielded Weapon ‘February 29’, you will be henceforth known as Grant Monday, and will gain one cultivation level automatically, no matter how much cultivation would otherwise be required.

Important Information: The Wielder of February 29, Grant Monday, has one year to gather the power of the Lords of the Month and return February 29 to the status of a completed Wielded Weapon.

Rewards: Completion of the quest, Heal the World, will result in the reward of the title ‘Calendar King’, and all wealth and responsibilities associated with that position, along with the ability to wield the most powerful weapon in the world.

Failure Conditions: Failure to complete the mandatory quest ‘Heal the World’ within one year will result in the loss of all cultivation levels gained since the acquisition of February 29, plus the loss of an additional one level.

It was clear now why he was at Cultivation Achievement Level one. At the moment, his mind was blown. “Is anyone looking at me? Do I really have smoke coming out of my ears? Frank, anything?”

Normally, following completion of his chores, Grant would start practising his sword forms; but not today. He didn’t even want to think about February Twenty Nine hiding nearby. Instead, he made a plan to go to the market immediately. If he went as early as possible, there was less chance of running into people that he knew.

He grabbed an old sack and ripped it into strips. Afterwards, he bound his head, leaving only space for eyes to peer out. He grabbed another old torn sack, held his nose as best he could, and forced it over the bulk of his torso. This one stank of moldy cauliflower. His stomach heaved from the smell, but his disguise wasn’t yet complete. Grant snatched up the broom handle and used it as a makeshift walking stick. It would do. He hoped.

With the cart loaded, he trundled off to the market at his normal pace. With the bandages covering his nose - mitigating the smell slightly - and chest constricted by the sack, he struggled to breathe. Even so, he couldn’t let anyone see his face clearly. If he did, they would see his name. While Grant would rather avoid breathing the stench of rotting veggies… being smelly was infinitely better than being put to death for treason.