The farm bustled with the early signs of a new day. A cool breeze rustled through the trees, carrying with it the faint sounds of birds chirping and animals stirring in their pens. But amid this peaceful atmosphere, Jacob was pushing himself harder than ever before.
Over the past few days, his strength had grown exponentially, and it showed in every task he took on. The first sack of grain he lifted now seemed like child's play compared to the work he was doing today. His muscles had thickened, his movements more fluid and precise, as if his body had finally unlocked the potential the Dragon Hippo technique promised.
He hefted a massive bale of hay onto his shoulders, the weight of it barely registering anymore. He felt invincible, unstoppable. The technique had given him a newfound power—an extra hundred pounds of force behind every action. What used to require every ounce of his strength now felt like second nature.
The morning passed in a blur as Jacob tackled task after task with ease. He fed the horses, cleaned the stalls, and repaired equipment as if it were nothing. The farm had become his proving ground, and each day, he pushed himself further, testing the limits of his new abilities.
As he carried two large water buckets across the yard, the weight sloshing with each step, a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. The other workers had taken notice too, shooting him glances of surprise and disbelief. Even Zuri, who was usually focused on her own work, had paused to watch him lift a heavy load of tools without breaking a sweat.
But as Jacob set down the buckets near the well, he caught sight of Mr. Zephyr standing nearby, arms crossed, his expression unreadable. The old man had been watching him all morning, his sharp eyes following Jacob's every move.
"You've been putting in a lot of work," Zephyr said, his voice calm but carrying a weight that made Jacob pause.
Jacob wiped the sweat from his brow, a confident grin spreading across his face. "Stronger now," he replied in his broken language, his tone reflecting the pride that had been building inside him over the past few days.
Zephyr's gaze narrowed slightly. For a moment, he said nothing, just watching Jacob in silence. Then, a shrewd smile crept across his face, and he let out a low, rumbling laugh.
"Boy, you think what you've been doing is the hard stuff?" Zephyr asked, his voice tinged with amusement.
Jacob blinked, confused by the question. He had been pushing himself to his limits, hadn't he? His new strength was undeniable—he could feel it in every movement, every task he completed with ease.
Zephyr chuckled again, this time louder, a knowing glint in his eyes. "You're getting arrogant," he said, shaking his head. "Hahaha. You've barely scratched the surface."
Jacob's confidence wavered for the first time as he looked at the old man. He had never heard Zephyr laugh like that before, and the way he spoke—it was as if Jacob's efforts were nothing more than a warm-up.
Before Jacob could respond, Zephyr gestured toward the well. "You see that?" he said, pointing to the large stone well at the far end of the yard. "I want you to move the water from that well to the fields. And I don't want you using the cart. You'll be carrying it yourself."
Jacob's eyes widened. The well was massive, and the buckets that were used to draw water from it weighed hundreds of pounds when full. Moving that much water by hand seemed impossible, even with his newfound strength.
But Zephyr wasn't finished. "And after that," he continued, his voice hardening, "I want those hay bales moved to the other end of the property. The big ones. You'll be doing it alone."
Jacob swallowed hard. The big hay bales Zephyr was referring to weren't the ones he had been moving earlier. They were twice the size and weight, often requiring several men to lift. But the old man's orders left no room for negotiation.
"And finally," Zephyr said, a wicked smile curling at the edge of his lips, "you'll round up the horses. All of them. Including Royu."
Jacob's heart sank at the mention of Royu. The stallion had always been a challenge, even for experienced ranch hands. Rounding him up was dangerous on a good day, and Jacob had already learned firsthand just how powerful the horse could be. Last time he'd tried, Royu had nearly trampled him in a fit of rage, leaving Jacob with bruises that had taken days to heal.
"Let's see how far that arrogance gets you," Zephyr said with a laugh before turning away, leaving Jacob to contemplate the mountain of work ahead of him.
Determined not to let the old man see any hesitation, Jacob tightened his grip on the water buckets and headed toward the well. The weight was immense, each bucket filled to the brim with water that sloshed with every step. His muscles strained under the load, but he gritted his teeth and forced himself to keep moving.
With each trip, the distance between the well and the fields seemed to stretch longer, the weight of the buckets pressing down on him like a crushing force. His breaths came in heavy bursts, and the confidence he had felt earlier began to fade as fatigue set in. Yet, despite the exhaustion, Jacob refused to give up.
He could feel the Dragon Hippo technique working within him, his muscles responding to the strain in ways they hadn't before. His body wasn't just stronger—it was more resilient, more capable of enduring the harsh physical demands of the work. The extra hundred pounds of strength he had gained wasn't just a number. It was a lifeline, helping him push through the pain and continue on.
By the time Jacob finished moving the water, his arms trembled from the effort, but there was still more to do. Without pausing, he headed toward the hay bales. These were monsters compared to the ones he had moved earlier, each one towering over him. He crouched down, gripping the rough twine with both hands, and with a grunt, he heaved the first bale onto his shoulder.
The weight nearly drove him to his knees, but Jacob dug deep, summoning the strength he had earned through days of grueling labor. He staggered forward, every muscle in his body burning with exertion, but he refused to falter. With each step, he willed himself to keep going, the Dragon Hippo technique guiding him as he carried the bale across the property.
The day wore on, and by the time the last bale was moved, Jacob could barely stand. His vision blurred from exhaustion, and his body screamed for rest, but he wasn't finished yet. There was still one final task—rounding up the horses.
Jacob approached the stables, his eyes locking onto Royu. The stallion stood in the center of the paddock, his black coat gleaming in the fading sunlight, muscles rippling beneath his skin as he snorted and pawed at the ground. The other horses shifted nervously around him, sensing his dominance.
Jacob took a deep breath, his body aching but his resolve stronger than ever. He wasn't the same weak farmhand who had been trampled by Royu before. He had grown, and now it was time to prove it.
As he approached, Royu's ears flicked back, and the stallion's eyes narrowed, as if recognizing Jacob's challenge. Without warning, the horse charged, his powerful legs kicking up dust as he barreled toward Jacob like a force of nature.
But Jacob was ready. He sidestepped just as Royu's hooves thundered past, his newfound agility allowing him to avoid the full brunt of the attack. He spun around, grabbing a rope from the nearby fence, and with lightning reflexes, he looped it over the horse's neck.
Royu reared back, his massive frame fighting against the restraint, but Jacob held on, his muscles straining as he pulled the rope tighter. The stallion bucked and twisted, but Jacob's grip never faltered. He could feel the power coursing through his body, the extra strength allowing him to withstand Royu's wild thrashing.
After what felt like an eternity, the horse finally calmed, his sides heaving as he lowered his head in reluctant submission. Jacob, covered in sweat and dirt, stood victorious, his chest rising and falling with labored breaths.
Zephyr watched from a distance, his expression unreadable. But as Jacob led Royu back to the stable, he caught the briefest flicker of approval in the old man's eyes.