A Dual Crest Summoner In Infinite Summoning World

"Go away, kid. Lemme sleep," said the half-drunk, half-sleepy man when Auren tried to pull him out from under the bush he had passed out beneath in the middle of the day.

"Just wash your face and listen to me for a minute, then you can go back to sleep in your fine bed," said Auren as he tugged at the guy's torn leather boots.

"Touching water? Are you possessed, boy?"

"Just.. come out."

The guy weighed far more than Auren could drag without using Chi.

"I'll give you three rats to listen," Auren said, wielding the power of his newly gained wealth.

Somehow that line the guy heard loud and clear. He rotated inside the bush without getting up—the smelly boots were replaced by the equally, if not more, smelly bearded face looking up at him.

"Show me the money," he demanded.

Auren sighed and showed him the three bronze coins. Somehow, they made their way from the bush to beneath a tree near the river. Auren waited as the guy splashed his face with water and came back holding his head.

"I washed. Now give me my three rats," the man said as if Auren had wronged him.

"I don't care about your face—I said hear me out, then you can have the money."

"Start then. I don't have all day."

"Help me farm the land for a year," Auren got straight to the point. "I will pay you, of course"

"Farming? What's wrong with kids these days? Why can't you just suck on a Doron and ask for a toy or something?"

"Is that how you talk to your employer?"

"I don't work for no powdered kid."

"Not even for 25 silver coins?"

The drooping eyes of the middle-aged man snapped wide open. Auren smiled. He had him. Even 20 silver coins annually was considered a high-paying salary. For 25, a man would be ready to do anything. Choosing the man called Boros was essential if he had any hopes of growing anything at all. All the good farmers were already busy with their own lands, and from the ones available—this guy was his best option.

The best thing about him was his summon: a dry mix of manure. It was like he had been born to become a farmer—and he had, quite a successful one at that. But some years ago, in a Thrall incident, his one and only son had been gravely injured. The young boy died en route to town in a horse-drawn wagon. The loss of his child was more than he and his wife of seven years could bear. A year later, she too fell sick. Boros did everything he could to help her, but it wasn't just an illness of the body. He lost all the wealth he had accumulated trying to save her.

After her death, Boros had sort of given up on life—earning just enough to get lost in alcohol for days on end. He had once been the best farmer in the village, and now he had completely given up on farming. Auren had seen him at Sunday meetings. Once, there was an argument between two brothers over the best method for planting seeds. As an expert, Dante had called on Boros, and whatever he said was accepted by everyone without question.

Sable and Granny had told Auren Boros's story when he'd asked about him after coming home. If he could combine Boros's expertise with the knowledge from textbooks, this had a chance of working. The man may not care about anything anymore, but with 25 silver coins, he could drink for more than half a year without lifting a finger.

They had changed locations now—from the riverbank to Auren's house. Boros had a hard time believing Auren even had 25 silvers. When the baron had rewarded him, Boros had been passed out drunk in some barn.

"Let me get this right," Boros asked Sable and Granny, seated outside their house on the wooden bench. "I do what he tells me for a year—it doesn't matter if we grow anything or not—and I still get paid?"

"Yes," Sable said, a bit awkwardly at that. "That's what he wants to do."

"You people do know he's a five-year-old, right?" Boros asked.

"The lord rewarded him with the silver chalice—Dante sold it, and he asked to do this with the money.." Granny explained.

"Reward? For what?"

The conversation went on for half an hour. Sable and Granny explained to Boros all the weird things Auren had done—even showing him the chimney oven and the silver back-plated candle stand. At last, with a promise from Sable and Granny that the payment was real and guaranteed, he agreed to do it for the year. He just had to grow something, and his job would be done. Even if there was no yield, the payment would remain the same.

So, from the next day, Auren started farming with the middle-aged man who had begun to go bald—the sides still held a decent amount of hair, though they too were beginning to turn grey. First came the choosing of land. There were many options, but most had been abandoned for good reasons.

The only thing Auren knew about choosing farmland was: 'Good soil is dark, kinda crumbly, and smells.. earthy? Not like sand.'

Even though he was half-drunk, Boros took one look at the available plots and presented a few choices to Auren that, in his words, were 'worth breaking your back for'. They checked all of Auren's boxes: black, crumbly, earthy, and not a speck of sand in sight. It was a field no one had touched in years. A bit far from the village, but all the nearby ones had already been claimed.

Boros advised him to start small. Since this was just an experiment to see if things would work, they could always scale up later. The water supply, this far out, would be a bit of an issue—but other than that, it was the perfect place.