Chapter 142: 140 Deer Horn Village

"Young master, are you still reading the report about the dungeon?"

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 Far, whose gaze remained fixed on the documents.

Far did not look up as he replied:

"It is not about the dungeon. After the Demon Tide, the intelligence submitted by Mute Wind Town has been scarce and perfunctory.

I have already read it all; there is not much useful information. I will still have to conduct a personal investigation after taking office.

As for what I am reading now, it is a report on recent demon spy activities."

"Demon spy activities?" Lillian tilted her head in confusion. "Does the Branch Guild Master need to handle this too?"

"Normally, this is handed over to the nobles and the Church to deal with, but under the current situation, who can be sure?

If war truly breaks out one day, issuing missions to recruit adventurers for the battlefield is not impossible."

Another fruit was stuffed into Far's mouth. Lillian continued, "Then what have these demon spies been doing recently?"

"Nothing yet," Far tossed the report he had finished reading aside. "They are all reports of spies discovered in the wild, or spies caught when leaving the city after being inspected. The demons seem to be moving spies from inside the city to outside recently. I do not know what they are planning."

Although he did not know what the demons intended to do, this was obviously not a meaningless movement.

Such large-scale movements could be known just by catching one or two spies like they had now. Afterwards, the nobles would strengthen inspections for entering and leaving the city, and the Church would increase patrol forces outside the city.

The final result would inevitably be that a large number of spies would be caught because of this.

So, with such great sacrifice, what did they want to gain?

These demons looked like they were preparing for something big. No wonder, before departure, his father, the Guild Master, wanted to arrange a Diamond-class guard for him.

However, he had refused this matter.

Lying on the soft cushion inside the carriage, Far quietly pondered the intelligence in his hand, but suddenly heard some noise coming from the rear of the convoy.

"What happened?" Far asked outside the carriage.

A guard's voice came from outside the carriage: "Branch Master, a water bucket in the rear carriage was jolted broken, and the water inside has leaked out."

This guard clearly knew his place; Far had not officially taken office yet, and he was already calling him Branch Master. Unfortunately, Far did not fall for that.

Regarding the bucket being jolted broken, although it was certainly a problem with the quality of the bucket, it was actually a normal phenomenon.

Once you leave the city, you cannot expect the road conditions to be very good. That large carriage behind was not like Far's exclusive carriage, which was equipped with a shock-absorbing formation; sitting inside to read documents caused no discomfort.

In short, this was a small accident, and not serious.

When they set out, two buckets for holding water were brought.

Moreover, the chosen route passed through inhabited areas all the way; in fact, there was no need to worry about a lack of supplies. Even if they continued walking like this, it would be fine.

But just to be safe—

"Where is the nearest supply point?"

The guard's voice came from outside: "If it is just to replenish water, we will pass a village with a well this afternoon."

"Then we will replenish there and set off then," Far instructed.

"Yes."

In the afternoon, the convoy arrived at the small village marked on the map—Deer Horn Village.

However, the scene that came into view made Far frown slightly.

A number of villagers were gathered at the village entrance, huddled together, arguing excitedly about something. Their voices could be heard from far away, filled with anxiety and anger.

When the villagers saw this well-equipped convoy bearing the emblem of the Adventurers' Guild, the murmurs did not subside; instead, they became even more intense.

"Young master, the atmosphere is not right," Lillian leaned close to Far's ear and said. "The way they look at us... is not friendly." Far rolled his eyes; could he not see that?

"Stop the carriage," Far ordered briefly.

The carriage stopped at the open space at the village entrance.

Far adjusted his robes and walked over with Lillian and two guards.

As they approached, the noisy villagers suddenly quieted down considerably, but those wary and suspicious gazes did not disappear.

An old man who looked like the village head, surrounded by several strong villagers, hesitantly came forward to greet them.

"Honorable... my lord," the old man performed a very non-standard bow. "I do not know why you all have graced our Deer Horn Village with your presence. What is your business? If it is for supplies and drinking water, there is an old well in the center of the village; please feel free to use it. It is just... just that our village is currently encountering trouble, and we are afraid we cannot properly entertain you all."

The old man spoke very carefully, afraid of offending the person before him.

One did not need much experience; just looking at the magnificence of Far's carriage, one knew he was certainly a powerful figure not to be trifled with.

Far's attitude was peaceful: "We are personnel of the Adventurers' Guild, passing through here. We indeed need to replenish some drinking water. We apologize for the intrusion."

His gaze swept over the sorrowful faces of the surrounding villagers, and his tone shifted. "However, I see that you all seem to have encountered considerable trouble? I wonder what the trouble is; perhaps we can help a little?"

"Help?" A burly man could not help but interrupt, his voice filled with grief and indignation. "You big shots from the city, besides collecting taxes, what do you care about us? My fields! My lifeline! They were about to be harvested, and overnight, they are all ruined!"

A foolish fellow; with just that sentence, Far could have killed him, and no one would have said anything.

But Far noticed that his words resonated with many villagers; many lowered their heads and wiped away tears.

"Silence, Hawk!" the village head reprimanded, but the wrinkles on his face deepened. "My lord, please forgive this poor fellow's rudeness. He has also lost his reason due to anxiety."

Far waved his hand: "It is nothing. First, tell me exactly what happened."

The village head sighed deeply:

"My lord does not know. Just today, the large patch of best wheat fields on the west and north sides of our village, near the forest, suffered some disaster.

Overnight, more than half of the wheat seedlings withered and died!

It was not insect damage, nor was it a common withering disease. Those stalks... were turning black and brittle, crumbling into powder at a touch!

And... and people who approached that field said they smelled a strange odor, and some even felt dizzy and nauseous.

We have been farming for generations, but we have never seen such a disease!"

Far frowned; this description seemed somewhat familiar to him.

"Could you take us to see it?" Far's expression became serious.

The village chief nodded, and the group passed through the village, heading toward the fields outside.

The closer they got to the west of the village, the more obvious the smell of rot mixed with a pungent, sweet fishiness became.

Lilian wrinkled her delicate nose and quietly cast a weak purification spell on herself and Fahl.

The sight before them was shocking.

The wheat fields, which should have been golden, now looked as if they had been touched by an invisible hand of death.

Large patches of wheat appeared in eerie blackened and withered yellow hues; the leaves curled and turned brittle, devoid of any life.

This stood in stark contrast to the still-healthy fields in the distance.

Fahl squatted down, ignoring the guards'阻拦, and carefully picked up a bit of blackened soil and a fragment of withered leaf with his fingertips.

Feeling the burning sensation transmitted to his fingertips, Fahl found the source of this familiar feeling.

"Corruption Potion?"

(End of this chapter)