"Young master, are you still reading the report on the Underground City?"
Inside the carriage, the maid Lillian picked up a piece of fruit from the plate, tasted it, then picked up another and fed it to Fa’er, whose eyes remained fixed on the docunts.
Without lifting his head, Fa’er replied:
"It’s not about the Underground City. After the Demon Tide, the reports submitted from Dumb Wind Town are scarce and perfunctory.
I’ve finished reading them all, and there’s not much useful information. I’ll have to investigate in person after taking office.
As for what I’m reading now, it’s a report on recent Demon Race spy activities."
"Demon Race spy activities?" Lillian tilted her head in confusion, "Isn’t the Branch President of the Guild responsible for this?"
"Typically, it’s the responsibility of the nobles and the Church, but given the current situation, who can say for certain?
If a war really breaks out one day, issuing missions to recruit adventurers for the battlefield isn’t impossible either."
Another piece of fruit was shoved into Fa’er’s mouth, and Lillian continued to ask, "So what are these Demon Race spies up to lately?"
"Nothing yet," Fa’er threw aside the report he had just finished reading, "The reports are all about spies being discovered in the wild, or caught during city exits. It seems the Demon Race is transferring their spies from inside the city to the outside, but their intentions are unclear."
Although their motives are unknown, such a large-scale maneuver is unlikely to be aningless.
By catching one or two spies like this, the nobles would tighten the checks for city entry and exit, and the Church would increase its patrols outside the city.
The end result will inevitably be that many spies get caught.
So, what do they expect to gain with such sacrifices?
This indicates that the Demon Race is planning sothing major. It’s no wonder that before departure, his guildmaster father wanted to assign a Diamond Level guard to him.
But he refused this arrangent.
Lying on the soft cushions inside the carriage, Fa’er quietly pondered the information at hand, when suddenly he heard so disturbance coming from the back of the convoy.
"What’s going on?" Fa’er asked out the window of the carriage.
A guard’s voice ca from outside: "Branch President, a water barrel on the rear carriage broke during the jostle, and all the water leaked out."
This guard seed to have understood quite well, addressing Fa’er as Branch President even before he officially took office, but Fa’er wasn’t buying it.
Regarding the broken water barrel, although it was surely a problem with the barrel’s quality, it was also a normal occurrence.
Once out of the city, one can’t expect great road conditions. The rear wagon, unlike Fa’er’s personal carriage, did not have an array for shock absorption, ensuring that reading docunts inside wouldn’t be uncomfortable.
In essence, it was a minor accident and not too serious.
Two water barrels were brought along at departure.
Additionally, the chosen route was through inhabited areas, and there was actually no worry about resupply, so continuing on this way posed no problem.
But to be safe—
"Where’s the nearest resupply point?"
The guard’s voice ca from outside: "If it’s just for water, we’ll pass a village with a well this afternoon."
"Then we’ll replenish there before moving on," Fa’er instructed.
"Understood."
...
In the afternoon, the convoy arrived at the small village marked on the map—Deer Horn Village.
However, the scene before them made Fa’er frown slightly.
A lot of villagers had gathered at the village entrance. They were clustered together, arguing vehently about sothing. Their voices, filled with anxiety and anger, could be heard from afar.
When the villagers noticed the well-equipped convoy bearing the emblem of the Adventurer’s Guild, the discussions did not quiet down, but instead beca more intense.
"Young master, sothing doesn’t feel right." Lillian whispered into Fa’er’s ear, "The way they look at us... isn’t very friendly."
Fa’er rolled his eyes, as if he couldn’t tell?
"Stop the carriage," Fa’er ordered succinctly.
The carriage halted in the open space at the village entrance.
Fa’er straightened his robe and approached, accompanied by Lillian and two guards.
As they moved closer, the noisy villagers suddenly quieted down considerably, though the wary and suspicious gazes did not disappear.
An elder, who appeared to be the village chief, hesitantly approached them, surrounded by several robust villagers.
"Respected... lord," the elder perford an awkward salute, "May I ask what brings you to our Deer Horn Village? If you’re looking for water, there’s an old well in the middle of the village, feel free to use it. Just...we’re facing trouble right now, and might not be able to host you properly."
The elder spoke cautiously, fearing to provoke the guests.
No matter how little knowledge one might have, just seeing Fa’er’s luxurious carriage made it clear he was a significant figure not to be offended.
Fa’er’s attitude was calm: "We are from the Adventurer’s Guild, passing through your village, and indeed need to refill so water. I’m sorry for the intrusion."
His gaze swept over the distressed faces of the surrounding villagers, and he shifted his tone, "However, I see that you seem to be in so kind of trouble? Might there be so way we can help?"
"Help?" A burly man interjected angrily, "You city folks, apart from collecting taxes, what else do you do for us? My field! My lifeline! It was almost harvest ti, and overnight, it’s all gone!"
A foolish man, just for saying this, Fa’er could have him killed and no one would say a word.
But Fa’er noticed that his words resonated with many villagers, and quite a few lowered their heads, wiping away tears.
"Enough, Hawke!" the village chief scolded, his wrinkles deepening, "My lord, please pardon this unfortunate man’s rudeness, he’s lost his senses in desperation."
Fa’er waved his hand: "No harm done, just explain what happened."
The village chief sighed deeply:
"You see, my lord, just today, our village’s best wheat field, towards the west and north, near the forest, suffered so calamity.
Overnight, most of the wheat withered and died!
It’s neither pests nor a common blight. The stalks... they turn black and brittle, crumbling to powder upon touch!
Moreover... anyone approaching that field reports a strange sll, and so feel dizzy and nauseous.
We’ve fard for generations, yet have never encountered such a disease!"
Fa’er frowned, the description seed sowhat familiar.
"Could you show us?" Fa’er’s expression turned grave.
The village chief nodded, and they headed through the village toward the fields outside.
The closer they got to the village’s west, the more pronounced the mingled odor of decay and a strange, sickly sweetness beca.
Lillian wrinkled her dainty nose, discreetly casting a weak purification spell on herself and Fa’er.
The sight before them was shocking.
What should have been a golden wheat field now appeared as though touched by the invisible hand of death.
Large sections of wheat had turned unnaturally black and withered, leaves curled and brittle, devoid of life.
It starkly contrasted with the healthier fields in the distance.
Fa’er crouched down, ignoring the guards’ objections, and cautiously picked up a bit of the blackened soil and a fragnt of a withered leaf with his fingers.
Feeling the burning sensation at his fingertips, Fa’er recognized the source of the familiarity.
"Corruption Potion?"
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