Chapter 97: Misplaced Talent

His body moved. Lifted the tool. Brought it down against earth that gave beneath the blade with surprising ease. The motion repeated itself without thought, muscles finding rhythm like water finding channels, and Cel stopped trying to understand what he was doing and just let it happen.

His enhanced body made the work trivial. Each swing carried force that bit deep into soil, turning, breaking and clearing space for whatever would be planted there.

Minutes accumulated. Rows appeared behind him – neat lines where his hoe had passed. He’d expected someone to correct him by now. To point out whatever fundamental mistake a noble pretending to be a commoner would inevitably make.

But no one approached.

The other workers moved through their own sections with steady