Chapter 5

    Your Dream Is Quite Strange

    The next day, the children at the Redwood Village orphanage got to taste delicious food for the first time. The warm grain porridge, infused with wild garlic oil, made their little tummies feel wonderfully full. Unfortunately, the portion prepared was limited, so the children couldn’t ask for a second helping.

    Still, it was far better than usual because, for once, everyone felt full. Their longing for more was simply a craving for the delightful taste.

    "There are a few servings left at the bottom of the pot... How should we share it?" After cleaning all the kitchen tools in the morning, the two elderly nuns and their little chef stood together, savoring the aroma of the simmering porridge. The warm embers beneath the pot had kept it gently heated for hours.

    "Let Kit have some. He’s been working hard since early morning…" Sister Anne suggested after a brief moment of thought. "Let him eat here in the kitchen. I don’t want the other children to get the wrong idea. Keep the rest in the pot, and he can eat it before cooking dinner. He’ll need the energy… Agreed?"

    Sister Lisa had no objection to this plan. The little boy had been working tirelessly since before dawn to help ease everyone’s burden. His frail body deserved more nutrients as a reward. Kit himself looked particularly delighted by the decision.

    The two nuns watched as the thin boy ate voraciously, satisfying his body’s needs. After ensuring everything in the kitchen was in order, they left the little one in charge.

    "By the way… have you found a good name for the little one yet? I think Kit sounds a bit...” simplistic, don’t you? She kept the last part to herself.

    "I’ve got three names in mind. I’m still deciding which one fits him best."

    "What are they? Maybe I can help you choose."

    "David, Ethan, or Jonathan… What do you think?"

    "Mm... typical of you. Very standard names…" Lisa replied flatly, not as excited as before. Then, in a more serious tone, she added, "Let’s name him David. Being beloved by everyone will bring him the most happiness…" She continued,

    "...Given his determination, he’ll grow strong on his own in the future. But calling him a gift from God? Something that God has given... That might remind him of his abandonment and deepen his scars. Don’t you agree?"

    Ethan meant strong and firm, a name that, although he was still physically weak, seemed fitting given his cleverness and strong will. He would likely stand on his own two feet before long. Jonathan, meaning God’s gift, seemed inappropriate given his past. Of course, this was a matter of perspective.

    "David... it’s a good choice. It was the first name that came to my mind… It may be common, but there’s no shame in sharing a name with others."

    "Perfect," Lisa said with a thumbs-up to her friend before heading off to find an appropriate day for the naming ceremony.

    Meanwhile, the little boy finished his second helping of porridge with great enthusiasm. He then turned his attention to checking the remaining supplies. Using his sharp calculation skills, he estimated how many more days they could comfortably eat. He was unaware that such skills were usually reserved for those born into privilege and higher education.

    The vast knowledge in his head was comparable to that of the royal family in this era. Perhaps… even surpassing them.

    His small finger kept pointing at the supply sacks one by one...

    Four sacks of Job’s tears, six sacks of mixed beans, three sacks of barley and wheat combined, and nearly five more sacks of grains he couldn’t identify were neatly stacked in the dark storage room next to the kitchen. There was also a pile of withered, misshapen carrots and a large quantity of onions.

    (Mm... about twenty people... roughly seven days per sack. These sacks are much smaller than the ones I’m used to seeing. Better lower the estimate...six days... no, five days to be safe.)

    If everyone ate two full meals a day, these supplies would last for exactly three months. If they reduced the portions slightly, it might stretch to almost three and a half months… However, the problem was that, according to the nuns, winter here typically lasted more than four months!

    There was no way this food would last for over four months. And that didn’t even account for emergencies, like an unexpected cold spell that extended the winter or made it harsher than usual.

    (This is bad. Really bad. Where will we find another month’s worth of food?) His gaze shifted to a small pile of smoked meat, which was far from enough to satisfy the children—even for half a meal. The meat was used as a seasoning, not as a main dish.

    The old man’s soul grew increasingly anxious. His knowledge of foraging food from the wild resurfaced quickly, trying to find a solution to keep everyone fed. He thought of wild yams and berries, but during this season, the forest creatures were also competing fiercely for resources to survive the winter, leaving very little to gather. Still, it was better than having nothing at all.

    He also recalled some simple trapping techniques he had picked up—a potential small supplement to their food supply.

    There was only one month left before winter officially arrived. He needed to make the most of this time. But first, he had to regain his strength. Once his body was in better condition, he could start exploring the outer edges of the forest.

    For the next three afternoons, he devoted himself to harvesting wild garlic and stockpiling it in large baskets. Although it seemed excessive, the wild garlic field beside the church was vast and abundant.

    (Once winter passes, I’ll help expand your growth, I promise.) The little boy murmured an apology to the wild garlic plants with each one he pulled up, vowing to take care of them later. A gentle breeze swept through, almost as if it was acknowledging his promise—something he didn’t even notice.

    As the day stretched into late afternoon, the sky began to dim, changing colors with time. Two pale white moons hovered side by side, defying the familiar laws of gravity. His bright eyes gazed at them for a moment before he sighed, coming to terms with reality.

    He truly was in another world, far from the technology-filled life he once knew. This life would no longer be a curse filled with suffering. This new chance at life would be better—through his own efforts and with his two hands.

    .....

    That evening, dinner was once again the delicious porridge that had everyone talking. The sight of the children’s warm, smiling faces was heartwarming for the two caretakers.

    "Brother Kit, Brother Kit, I want to eat your cooking every dayyy…" A little girl came running up to him, pleading sweetly. The old soul couldn’t resist his affection for children and scooped up the heavy little girl, sitting her on his lap to play.

    "Hehe, Brother Kit is carrying me. Yay!" The little girl raised her arms in triumph. Soon enough, another voice protested.

    "Lynn is cheating." A small boy quickly approached Kit as well. Being the third brother to all of them, Kit found himself having to take turns hugging and carrying each of them until he was dizzy. James and Anna could only sit nearby, laughing at the chaos.

    "So, how does it feel to be everyone’s third brother now, Kit?" Anna asked with a smile. "You’ve gotten close to these kids faster than James or me. That’s amazing."

    "I don’t know. These little ones are too cute for me to ignore, hehehe." Kit playfully poked the chubby cheek of the youngest child.

    "Did you receive a divine blessing for cooking or something? I’m so jealous," James teased, leaning back on the floor beside him.

    "Blessing? Is there such a thing?" Kit asked in confusion, though deep down, a part of him felt a spark of excitement. His imagination began running wild.

    (Magic? Special powers? A fantasy world? Oh, yeah!!!) If he could, he would have been dancing on the spot.

    "Wait, don’t tell me you didn’t know." James jumped up so fast he almost bumped into Kit. "We all receive blessings at birth. Our powers awaken around the age of fourteen, or sometimes as late as fifteen or sixteen…"

    "Just like James said, Kit. I received the blessing of the Weaver God, while James got the blessing of the God of Might. Each of us has our own unique gift. Once our powers awaken, we’ll gain special abilities."

    "Exactly, I hope I get the blessing of battle. Once my power awakens, I’ll join the military and send money back to support the younger kids," James declared his resolve with enthusiasm. His power was expected to awaken in just a few months, and the future looked bright in the young boy’s mind.

    "I want to open a tailoring shop someday, but that’s still a long way off. So, Kit, what’s your dream?"

    "A dream...?" The soul in Kit’s frail body, burdened by decades of painful experiences, lowered his eyes in thought. He didn’t dwell on the past for long, though. After careful consideration, a broad smile appeared on his face.

    "I want to be a farmer—grow delicious fruits and vegetables for everyone to eat until they’re full. That’s enough for me."

    Anna, James, and all the other children stared at his scrawny frame with their mouths agape before bursting into giggles.

    "Kit the farmer. Hahaha." James laughed louder than anyone else. "That’s one of the jobs for someone with a lowest-ranking blessing. You’re such a good cook—why not become a chef for a lord somewhere? You might even have a fire attribute."

    Little Kit’s eye twitched at the comment, and for a moment, he considered punching his adopted brother. Instead, he sighed deeply.

    "I’ll show you. Just wait and see!"

    Kit’s dream reached the ears of the two nuns. The elderly women, their wrinkled faces soft with smiles, could only think to themselves...

    This little one... truly suits the name we’ve chosen for him. He had quickly become beloved by everyone.

    However... he was a boy with a peculiar dream, one far different from most people.