Spring, Day 6 — Saturday — Windy — 6:00 a.m.
Daeron woke exactly on time.
The hearth had long gone cold; the red dragon egg lay motionless in the ashes, still faintly gleaming in the gray morning light.
"Another day, full of purpose," he said, smiling wryly to himself as he got up.
Watering, collecting eggs, feeding the hens, checking the mailbox…
Within minutes, the small farm turned into a blur of feathers and barking — until peace settled again.
"Four eggs, one daffodil," he counted aloud, then frowned at the rest of his haul. "A lump of coal, a chunk of copper ore, and… a furnace blueprint?"
He crouched outside the farmhouse, reviewing the new recipe that had appeared on his mysterious interface.
[New Quest: Start Smelting]
To continue mining, you must first construct a furnace.
Objective: Craft one furnace.
The furnace was one of the earliest and most important crafting blueprints in Stardew Valley.
It required 20 copper ore and 25 stone — simple, yet absolutely essential.
No metal bars without smelting. No sprinklers, barrels, or advanced equipment without metal bars.
And could he buy them from someone else? Absolutely not.
The farm's "rules" wouldn't allow substitutes. Without gathering or refining materials inside the system, he couldn't progress.
So if he wanted progress — he needed to go underground himself.
"Prince, I found it!"
Ser Jon Darry appeared, dusty and excited.
Daeron perked up immediately. "Found what?"
"The mine, Your Grace," Jon said, straightening. "I followed your speculation — near the waterfall, where the river bends. There's a lake beside it, and there, I found both lake and mine."
The knight looked pleased — and slightly relieved.
Yesterday's blunder in the throne room still weighed on him, but this discovery would balance the scales.
"Excellent work, Ser Jon."
Daeron clapped his shoulder, grabbed his equipment, and was halfway out the door before remembering what every wise farmer must check —
The Weather Channel.
[Weather Forecast]
Tomorrow will be cloudy with a chance of heavy rain.
[Fortune Teller]
The spirits are happy today — you'll have good luck!
[Living Off the Land]
Tip from your favorite show: the south‑east of Pelican Town, where river meets sea, sometimes sprouts a cluster of fresh wild onions.
Daeron grinned. "Wild onions, huh? Perfect timing."
In this world, wild crops were nature's energy bars — food that restored both health and stamina.
Here, they also contained faint life energy, like every "special crop" that seemed to pulse with quiet magic.
Mining drained the body fast, and these little things would keep him going.
Life force fueled stamina, but they weren't identical; grip slipped, focus waned, exhaustion struck — and only special foods restored both.
Even elite knights in Westeros took them as supplements, believing they could prolong life or, rarely, awaken life force entirely.
"Special crops solve everything," Daeron mused, feeling oddly proud of his practical genius. "Tired? Eat one. Hurt? Eat two. It's foolproof."
He whistled. "Mount up!"
A chestnut mare clopped toward him, reins swinging, and together they headed southeast through the grasslands.
---
11:30 a.m.
Daeron's basket was overflowing with wild onions — some plain, some silver‑star quality. He'd even chopped down a few bordering trees and crafted a portable chest to stash supplies.
Soon he reached the place Jon had described — a shimmering lake fed by the waterfall behind his farm.
Isolated. Quiet. Perfect.
A narrow wooden bridge crossed the water toward a dark opening in the stone.
The mine.
He crossed, hearing only the wind and the trickle of distant water, and stepped inside.
Soft blue light glimmered from a box by the entrance — a "new player's gift," just like in the games he remembered.
He opened it.
Inside lay a rusty sword.
[Rusty Sword]
Damage: 2–5
Critical Chance: 0.02
"A freebie, seriously?" Daeron sighed. "Even beginners deserve better than this."
He drew it anyway, testing weight and balance.
Then compared it against his fine steel longsword — the kind forged for kingsguard, not farmers.
Clang! Clang!
The two blades met in a spark. The steel sword showed two shallow scratches. The rusty sword? Perfectly intact.
He frowned. "So items from the system can't break…"
Irritating — but good to know.
"Well," he said with a smirk, "lucky for me, I wield two."
Rusty sword in one hand, steel in the other, he twirled both lightly — twin arcs of gleam.
He stored his spare tools in the chest near the new elevator shaft — his axe and hoe would be useless underground.
"Axes for trees, hoes for history," he muttered, setting them aside. "We're here for ore."
Inventory check:
- Rusty Sword
- Pickaxe
- 11 Wild Onions (normal)
- 6 Wild Onions (silver quality)
Steel sword at his hip.
One deep breath.
The wooden ropes of the mine shaft creaked softly beneath his hand.
"Careful, careful," Daeron told himself. "Ore's worthless if I die down there."
And with one last exhale, he stepped into the dark.
Thud.
He landed on the first floor, surrounded by walls of rough rock. The air smelled of damp earth and rot.
"Not bad," he murmured. "No monsters… yet."
The first levels of a mine were usually safe — or as safe as anything could be. It meant slimes, bugs, worms. The weaker kind.
He set aside the rusty sword and hefted the pickaxe instead.
Clank.
Clank.
Clank.
Chunks of stone broke loose as he searched for the next shaft down.
A faint pop—and from one cracked stone, a lump of coal rolled free.
"What about copper?" he muttered.
After a few minutes, he spotted two yellowish stones glinting faintly beneath the moss. Metallic veins crawled through them.
Gold mixed with brown.
Copper.
He swung again and again — clank, clank, clank! — until the rock split, spilling three shining nuggets into his hand.
"Got you," he said, though his palms were already stinging.
Even with life force enhancing his muscles, every strike drained his energy. Regular stones took two swings. Copper? Four, sometimes five.
His arms felt heavy after just a dozen hits.
Blessed Seven, he thought, wiping sweat from his brow. At this rate, I'll die before I reach the bottom.
"Fine," he muttered, forcing a smile. "We'll call this training. Control practice. Yeah, control."
And back he went, hammering away in the gloom.
By nightfall, his tunic clung to him, soaked through with dirt and sweat.
When he finally climbed back out, the moon was already rising — silverlight bathing the farm.
He could barely move.
Inventory check again:
- 45 stone
- 27 copper ore
- 11 coal
- 4 clumps of slime gel
- 8 chunks of bug meat
- 8 fiber strands
- 2 quartz crystals
Monsters slain:
- 4 green slimes
- 5 cave grubs
- 3 stink bugs
- 1 damned digging worm that nearly bit his toe
Total damage: one annoyed ego, one worn‑down sword, and seventeen fewer wild onions.
"I'm done," he groaned. "Completely done."
But exhaustion aside, progress was progress.
He poured the day's spoils onto his workbench.
Twenty‑five copper, thirty stone — enough.
Bang!
The new furnace took shape under his hands, heat already pulsing deep inside the clay.
A cheerful chime rang in his head.
Quest Complete: Start Smelting
Reward: 100 gold
The small victory lightened him for a moment. But he still needed five more pieces of ore for the first refining.
"Tomorrow," he said, stretching. "Tomorrow we get the metal."
He left the tools stacked neatly, glanced once at the hearth — where the dragon egg still slumbered under ashes — and stumbled into bed.
Somewhere behind him, the furnace crackled to life, a soft orange glow blooming against the night.