Chapter 108 – The Hoe on Strike

Amisha: “…”

In every previous class of young witches, there had always been struggles with the large hoes when first learning planting magic, but none had ever been quite like this group.

Past young witches had certainly worried about not being able to control the large hoes and failing to till their fields, but they’d only put in effort during class and on weekends—at most staying a bit after class to attune with their hoes a little longer.

And she never assigned impossible tasks!

The purpose of setting a deadline was to motivate the young witches to work hard, not to starve them.

Large hoes generally required a deeper level of attuning before they could be controlled.

Normally, if you attuned diligently during class and practiced controlling it earnestly, by the time Friday’s class ended, you’d have rough control over it.

Although Friday afternoon was Magic Q&A class, for the young witches’ convenience, the first Q&A session was also held at the farmland—if you had no questions, you could just keep tilling!

This week, she’d even assigned less homework than usual, specifically to free up the two weekend days for them to work on their fields.

As for the watering cans, those were far easier to control than the large hoes. A bit of attuning and you could get them airborne to sprinkle herbicide potion.

Even if the spray was unsteady and uneven, it wasn’t a big deal.

She’d already accounted for potential waste and provided more than enough herbicide potion. When the time came, they could dilute it with water and just splash it on with a ladle—there would definitely be plenty.

As long as a single drop of herbicide potion landed on the target plant, it would be dead by the next morning without fail.

An uncooperative watering can didn’t matter for this kind of broad, imprecise weeding that required absolutely no precision.

Basically, as long as they didn’t slack off over the weekend, not a single young witch would fail to clear her own plot of farmland by Monday.

It didn’t need to be very large either. Each dormitory’s yard already had a plot of land—they just needed to till a bit more and that would be enough.

Besides, the land was meant for learning Plant Magic. Once they learned to tend it properly with magic, crops would grow very quickly.

A small plot of land was more than enough to feed one young witch.

Even young witches who weren’t talented at Plant Magic could still use it to grow ordinary vegetables and grain without any problem! It wasn’t like they were growing some finicky magical plants!

So how had this class of young witches gotten so anxious that they were hugging their hoes to class?

Previous young witches had never done this!

Oh, right—previous young witches didn’t have farming tool cards. Without having attuned and gained control of the large hoe, they couldn’t have carried it around even if they’d wanted to!

Amisha looked toward Mo Lan. No need to ask—this scheme had to be her idea, right?

Mo Lan met Amisha’s gaze with a look of pure bewilderment. Why was the Headmistress staring at her like that? She hadn’t done anything lately! She was busy proofreading the practice booklet pages!

“Fine, if you want to hold them, hold them! But it must not interfere with the lesson!” Amisha convinced herself inwardly—she was a headmistress who respected her students and didn’t cling to rigid rules. As long as they listened properly and absorbed the knowledge, students could attend class lying down for all she cared!

After a full night’s effort plus the entire morning—

By the time planting magic class arrived that afternoon, the young witches discovered that their large hoes had become much more obedient!

The foul temper was completely gone!

Although the landing still wasn’t very accurate, that was no longer the hoe’s problem.

It was their own control that was off—their commands weren’t precise enough.

To put it in Culinary Magic terms, they’d never tilled land themselves. They’d only watched Lady Amisha demonstrate it, so naturally their commands to the hoe would be somewhat clumsy.

Sometimes the force wasn’t enough; sometimes the aim was off.

But it didn’t matter—it didn’t slow the young witches down one bit as they tilled like mad.

If the hoe went in crooked, just line it up and try again. Too shallow? Put more force behind it.

In any case, it was far better than before when they couldn’t even get the hoe’s tip to stick into the ground. The earth beneath their feet was finally starting to show signs of being worked.

And this was when the memories of farmers from Earth in Mo Lan’s mind began to kick in.

Under her command, her large hoe rose steadily every time, plunged deep into the earth, and with one pull, brought up clods of soil from below.

Force, depth, and precision—all excellent.

She followed close behind the hoe step by step, and wherever it passed, the ground was perfectly turned over without a single spot missed.

Her efficiency left every young witch staring in amazement.

“No need to even say it! Moira must have been an expert farmer in her past life!” Sylph declared.

She herself had often tagged along behind her parents as a child, clutching a little hoe and a small shovel to tend flowers and plants, yet even she couldn’t till land this skillfully.

The other young witches shared the same thought.

That Mo Lan was a Soul from Another World with more life experience than them was no longer any kind of secret.

“She’ll probably have her field finished by the time class ends today, right? That’s so fast… Hm?”

Iris hadn’t even finished her envious remark when she saw Mo Lan’s hoe rise high into the air, then drift gently to the ground—where it lay motionless.

“Moira, what happened to it?” Iris asked in puzzlement. “It was working perfectly fine just a moment ago. Why did it suddenly stop?”

Mo Lan shook her head. She was still continuously channeling mana, trying to command the striking hoe to get up and keep working, but it had gone completely boneless—slippery, as if her mana just slid right off whenever she pushed it toward the hoe.

If not for the faint sense of resistance she could feel emanating from it, she would have almost believed this hoe had never been attuned by her at all—that it was just some ordinary, mundane hoe.

She had absolutely no idea why it had suddenly gone on strike.

She ran over to Lady Amisha, who was sitting on the field ridge eating a small cake. “Headmistress, why did my hoe suddenly stop moving?”

Amisha answered calmly, “Don’t worry, this is perfectly normal! Even a hoe needs a break now and then, especially when it’s not fully familiar with you yet. You put too much pressure on it, and since it hasn’t completely submitted to you, it’ll throw a tantrum when you push it too hard and it gets tired.”

Mo Lan: “(°△°|||)?”

She turned to look at the hoe playing dead on the ground and said in disbelief, “I’m putting pressure on it?”

A hoe… got tired?

That couldn’t be right!

“Headmistress, I’ve practiced the Cleaning spell—the broom in my dormitory works perfectly fine! It’s never gone on strike.”

Amisha shook her head. “How big is the area in your dormitory? Besides, a hoe does physical labor—you have to cut it some slack! Every object has its own temperament. Hoes tend to be a bit more difficult to deal with in general, and that’s perfectly normal. You need to be patient in getting to know it and learning to control it!”

“Once it truly accepts you, you could make it work twenty-five hours in a twenty-four-hour day and it would be willing!”

Mo Lan: “…”

The way Lady Amisha put it, she’d almost believe the hoe had become sentient.

But she understood now. The hoe’s stubbornness had subsided, only to be replaced by laziness.

She’d have to leave it some rest time. Until she’d built a good relationship with it, she couldn’t work it too hard.