Reincarnated As a Farmer But Overpowered

Ser Kaelen departed from the farm an hour later, his mind a maelstrom of conflicting thoughts. He had courteously taken the two bound mercenaries with him, slung over his horse like sacks of ill-gotten grain. Before he left, Ren had pressed another tomato into his hand.

"For the road," the farmer had said with a simple, genuine smile. "It's a long ride back to the capital."

The knight had accepted the gift with the reverence one might show a king's scepter. As he rode away, he looked back one last time. He saw the farmer, Ren, happily humming to himself as he used his hoe to prepare a new patch of ground. Beside him, the Shadowcat, Lyra, was practicing a series of swift, deadly movements with a pair of daggers, a silent promise of violence to any who dared approach. They were an impossible pair, a picture of tranquil domesticity and lethal readiness.

Ser Kaelen knew he couldn't force the issue. The Crown had no authority over a being who could casually decline its protection because it was inconvenient. His official report to Archmage Theronius would have to be… carefully worded. He couldn't describe the farmer as a threat, because he exuded no malice. But he couldn't describe him as a simple asset either, because he refused to be controlled.

He was a 'neutral entity of overwhelming potential.' A force of nature in a straw hat. The knight's new, self-appointed mission was to ensure the Crown understood this. He would recommend observation, not intervention. He would frame Ren not as a resource to be exploited, but as a powerful neighbor to be treated with the utmost respect and caution. The consequences of angering such a being were, he suspected, unimaginable.

Back on the farm, Ren was in his element. With the immediate 'pest' problems handled by Lyra and the 'diplomatic' problem handled by a polite refusal, he could finally focus on what truly mattered: his new carrots.

He held the small, lumpy bag of 'Blue Leaf' carrot seeds that Lily had given him. He poured a few into his palm. They were small, dark, and unremarkable, with no glow or hum of energy like the 'Sun's Fury' seeds.

[Analyzing Seeds: 'Blue Leaf' Carrot Seeds]

[Quality: Common]

[Potential: Standard. A hardy root vegetable known for its dark blue foliage and pale, sweet root. No inherent magical properties.]

[Farming God System Suggestion: Even the most common seed can achieve greatness in enriched soil. Plant with care!]

"Common, eh? We'll see about that," Ren murmured with a competitive glint in his eye. He had the best soil, the best tools, and a truly unreasonable amount of latent 'Overpowered Farmer Aura.' He was determined to grow the most magnificent common carrots this world had ever seen.

He planted the seeds in a neat row next to his tomato patch. As soon as they were in the ground, he felt his connection to the land surge towards them. He could feel the tiny seeds, dormant and plain, awaken as the potent life energy of his farm seeped into them.

"Now for some water," he said, picking up his ridiculously efficient watering can. As he watered the newly planted row, he watched in satisfaction as tiny shoots, not green but a deep, vibrant indigo, immediately pushed their way through the soil. They grew with the same unnatural vigor as the tomatoes, their unique blue leaves unfurling in the morning sun.

Lyra watched him, her training as a spy and assassin providing a unique perspective on his 'farming.' She wasn't seeing a man planting carrots. She was seeing a master alchemist infusing mundane reagents with transcendental power. She was seeing a golemancer breathing life into the very earth. Every simple, agricultural act he performed was, to her experienced eyes, a rite of immense magical significance.

"The carrots are blue," she observed, stating the obvious.

"Yep! 'Blue Leaf' variety," Ren said proudly. "Aren't they pretty? I bet they'll taste great. Good for your eyesight, you know."

Lyra doubted that 'improved eyesight' was the only property these carrots would end up with. She imagined they would more likely grant true sight, the ability to see through illusions, or perhaps the power to shoot devastating beams of energy from one's eyes. With Ren, the mundane explanation was never the correct one.

Their peaceful morning of farming and quiet contemplation was interrupted by a new arrival. This time, it wasn't a knight or a mercenary, but a small, hesitant delegation from Oakhaven, led by Borin and Elara. They carried baskets filled with humble offerings: fresh bread, a wheel of cheese, some eggs, and a small keg of ale.

"Ren!" Borin called out, his voice respectful. "We, uh… we come with gifts. As thanks."

Ren smiled, genuinely touched. "You didn't have to do that!"

"Yes, we did," Elara said firmly. Her gaze was steady, filled with the same reverence as the knight's, but tempered with a neighborly warmth. "Yorick's hand was healed this morning. The village healer said the bones just… reset themselves overnight. He said it was a miracle. We all know whose 'miracle' it was."

Ren blinked. He assumed the tomato had just been very hard. He hadn't considered it might have healing properties even when used as a bludgeon.

[Secondary Effect of 'Sun's Fury' Tomato confirmed: 'Kinetic Force Redirection (Blunt Trauma)' – When struck, the fruit redirects a portion of the kinetic energy back at the source, infused with a minor healing aura. A truly benevolent defense mechanism.]

[System Note: It basically punches back, but feels bad about it afterward.]

"Oh. Well, that's… good," Ren said, deciding it was best not to question things too deeply.

"We also wanted to ask a favor," Borin said, shifting his weight nervously. "The meat from that bear… it's incredible. But there's still a lot of the carcass left. We were wondering… with your permission, if the village could harvest the rest of it? And the hide? We would, of course, give you the prime share."

"Of course you can have it," Ren said immediately, waving his hand dismissively. "I don't have anywhere to store all that meat anyway. Take all of it. Consider it a gift."

The villagers looked at each other, their faces filled with disbelief and profound gratitude. The carcass of a Grootslang Bear was a treasure trove. The meat, infused with Ren's power, was a source of vitality. The hide could be made into masterwork armor. The bones and claws could be sold to alchemists for a small fortune. He had just gifted the entire struggling village a massive economic windfall and didn't even want a share.

"And," Ren added, a thoughtful look on his face. "I have too many of these." He gestured to the glowing tomato plants. "I can't possibly eat them all before they go bad. If anyone in the village wants some, just… have them come up and ask. One per family per day, maybe? So everyone gets a turn."

If the villagers had been grateful before, they were utterly ecstatic now. This wasn't just a blessing; it was a promise of continued prosperity and health.

Elara stepped forward, her eyes shining with unshed tears of gratitude. She placed a hand on Ren's arm. "Ren," she said, her voice thick with emotion. "You are a good man. The village of Oakhaven is in your debt. We will not forget this."

From that moment on, Ren was no longer just the strange, powerful farmer on the hill. He was Oakhaven's patron, their protector, their provider.

Lyra watched the entire exchange, a small, genuine smile touching her lips. He was winning them over not with displays of terrifying power, but with simple, uncalculated generosity. It was a far more effective method of conquest. He wasn't just gaining followers; he was earning their hearts. And a village full of devoted, fiercely loyal common folk, she knew, could be a more effective defense than any fortress wall.

His power wasn't just in his hands or his crops. It was in his character. And that, she was beginning to realize, was the most overpowered thing about him.