Chapter 18: Chapter 18: No more weighting until Sunday!

Chapter 18: No more weighting until Sunday!

Thomas stared down at the scales. He had taken them out, but was afraid to step on them. He had not eaten any fruit yesterday. His carbohydrates had come from four cucumbers per meal. He felt bloated, fat, and tired.

"Maybe, I can wait until Sunday?" He said to himself. Then, he got the scales back inside his bottomless bag. He needed to make the time count. It was Monday, and he would have the entire week to lose some weight.

Thomas took out his kettlebell, one he had bought on his way out of Orestria. He did seventy repetitions with much perspiring, huffing and puffing. Spots were swimming over his eyes when he was done. Yet, his body was pleasantly tingling. A warmth was spreading over him, and he felt relaxed, somehow.

"Karl, you stay in here. I am going to work," the former receptionist patted the slime-dragon on the neck, noting that he had gotten bigger, his muscles more pronounced, his scales just a tab bit harder. Soon, Karl would be able to fly, and they could take on some serious quests.

Not forgetting his task from the day before, Thomas took his harp and began to play it. Nothing grew. Yet, the land glowed. He bent, and dug his nails into the soil after a couple of minutes of playing. It had the feeling as if it had been rained on, recently. He smiled. That must be good, surely?

With sure steps, he made his way to the farm house. The three of them had breakfast, with Thomas taking the smallest portions possible. He then went to the field to play on a different patch of wheat, as Rina began to paint the fence.

During the late hours of the afternoon, workers came and began to collect the wheat. They began to sing to the tune that the summoner was playing, which made him smile.

When Owen came and collected him, Thomas placed his harp on his back, but didn't follow.

"Owen, I will be right back. I need to do something before dinner," Thomas said, and he made his way towards Karl.

"This better not be a ruse for you to skip dinner," Owen grumbled, as Thomas turned around and grinned at him.

"I don't want for you to tan my hide, Owen. I wouldn't skip dinner for the world," the dark-haired man said, and he went back on his way.

There, by Karl's side, Thomas did another seventy repetitions with the kettlebell. He was drenched in sweat when he was done, yet, he still took the distance from the fields to the farm house in a jog.

Washing off the grime at the faucet that was outside the farm, Thomas noted that he could smell ginger bread in the air. He scrunched up his nose. If Owen thought that he would temp him, then he had another thing coming. Not only would Thomas resist, he would ignore all attempts as well.

Going inside, he saw that there were already three eggs in his plate, as well as four cucumbers next to it. He grinned, and added his touch to his meal. Rina stared at him, as he hungrily began to devour his dinner.

"Why are you doing this, Thomas? Why do you want to lose weight so much?" She asked, and Thomas could see that Owen had stopped eating to listen in.

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"I am unhealthy," the dark-haired man told her. "Unhealthy and likely to die when I reach fifty, if I don't stop gaining weight. Worse, I might end up in a bed, with only wagons as my hope of transportation," as he voiced his greatest fear, he looked at the faces of his companions for any reaction.

They had pity in their eyes, and Thomas wanted to storm off. He didn't want to be pitied. He was not at the point where there was no hope. As long as he could still walk, there was hope.

"Don't pity me," Thomas snapped. He didn't pity himself. Why should these two do it? "I haven't lost the fight."

"So, you will keep trying half-baked diets until you lose the weight, or become bedridden?" Owen asked him. Thomas blinked. The zone was not half-baked. It just...didn't work for him that well.

Sure, initially, he had gotten rid of a kilogram and two hundred grams. But, as soon as he stopped eating meat and added cheese in the mix, he began to gain weight.

Still, he was not going to give up. Maybe, the zone was for people who had lost the weight and didn't want to gain it back. Might be, he was not doing enough. Yet, he refused to quit. This diet was one he would continue until the end, even if the end was a bitter cup of wine.

"I have to try," Thomas said. Owen snorted.

"Tomorrow, you will work with the harvesters," the farmer told him. "They are all fit. You do what they do, and you will get fit as well."

"As you wish," the brown-eyed man was not going to argue. For, Karl still couldn't fly that well, and there was no other place that would take him in other than Bull's Horns Ranch.

"Elf girl, you will work with the harvesters as well," Owen told Rina, who nodded.

"I have no idea about how wheat is collected, but I will do my best," she promised. Owen took one nectarine, and offered it to Thomas.

"One fruit won't kill you," the farmer said, but Thomas shook his head.

"It might, once it is joined by many others," the adventurer told Owen, and the farmer snorted.

"Be that way, if you wish. But, remember what I said about your hide, if you drop from hunger," Owen bit into the fruit, and his eyes fixed on Thomas.

"It won't come to that," Thomas told the man. If he could hold to this new variation of the zone, and managed to lose more weight, then he would tell Owen that he was wrong to view the zone as something dangerous for Thomas's health. Even if, Thomas was no longer following the diet to a T, he still followed its principles.

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