Chapter 132

"Young Master, are you still looking at the report about the dungeon?"

Inside the carriage, the maid Lillian picked a fruit from the plate and tasted it, then picked another one and fed it to Faer, whose gaze had been on the document the whole time.

Faer didn't even raise his head and replied:

"Not about the dungeon; after the magic tide, the intelligence submitted by Dumb Wind Town has been few and perfunctory.

I have already finished reading it all; there is not much useful information, I still have to investigate it personally after taking office.

As for what I am looking at now, it is a report about the recent Demon race espionage activities."

"Demon race espionage activities?" Lillian tilted her head and asked in confusion, "Does the branch president of the guild also have to manage this?"

"Generally speaking, it is handed over to nobles and the church to handle, but under the current situation, who can be sure?

It is not impossible that one day a war will really break out and missions will be issued to recruit adventurers to the battlefield."

Another fruit was stuffed into Faer's mouth, and Lillian asked next: "Then what have these Demon race spies been doing recently?"

"Nothing yet," Faer threw the report he had finished reading to the side, "They are all reports of spies discovered in the wild, or spies being caught when checking out of the city. The Demon race seems to be moving spies from inside the city to outside the city recently; I don't know what they are planning."

Although he didn't know what the Demon race wanted to do, this clearly wouldn't be a meaningless mobilization.

This kind of large-scale mobilization could be known as long as one or two spies were caught like now, and then nobles would strengthen the inspection of entering and leaving the city, and the church would increase the number of patrol troops outside the city.

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

So, sacrificing so much, what did they want to obtain?

This Demon race clearly looked like they were preparing for some big move; no wonder his guild president father wanted to arrange a diamond-level guard for him before setting off.

However, this matter was rejected by him.

Lying on the soft cushion in the carriage, Faer was quietly pondering the intelligence in his hands, but suddenly heard some noise coming from the team behind.

"What happened?" Faer asked toward the outside of the carriage.

A guard's voice came from outside the carriage: "Branch President, a water bucket on the back carriage was bumped and broken, and the water inside leaked out."

This guard was clearly very sensible; Faer hadn't officially taken office yet, and he was already calling him Branch President, but unfortunately, Faer didn't buy it.

Regarding the water bucket being bumped and broken, although it was definitely a problem with the quality of this bucket, in reality, it also belonged to a normal phenomenon.

You can't expect the road conditions to be very good after leaving the city, and the big carriage behind doesn't have a shock-absorbing magic array like Faer's exclusive carriage, so there is no discomfort when looking at documents inside.

In short, this was a small accident, and it wasn't serious.

When setting off, two buckets of water were brought.

And the chosen route was one with human habitation all the way, so there was actually no need to worry about no supplies, and it would be fine even if they continued walking like this.

But for the sake of insurance—

"Where is the nearest supply point?"

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

"Then we will replenish it there before hitting the road." Faer ordered.

"Yes."

……

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

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

Many villagers were gathered at the entrance of the village; they were surrounding each other, arguing about something excitedly, the sound could be heard from far away, full of anxiety and anger.

When the villagers saw this well-equipped carriage team with the Adventurer's Guild emblem, the discussion not only didn't subside but became even more intense.

"Young Master, the atmosphere is not quite right." Lillian leaned into Faer's ear and said, "The look in their eyes... is not very friendly." Faer rolled his eyes; couldn't he see that?

"Stop." Faer ordered briefly.

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

Faer tidied his robe, took Lillian and two guards, and walked over.

As they approached, the noisy villagers suddenly quieted down a lot, but those vigilant and suspicious gazes didn't disappear.

An old man who looked like the village chief, surrounded by several strong villagers, greeted them hesitantly.

"Noble... my lord," the old man performed a very non-standard salute, "I don't know what business you have visiting our Deer Horn Village? If it's to replenish drinking water, there is an old well in the center of the village, please help yourself. It's just... it's just that our village has encountered trouble now, I'm afraid we can't entertain you properly."

The old man spoke very carefully, for fear of offending the person in front of him.

You don't need to have much knowledge; just looking at the gorgeous degree of Faer's carriage, you know he must be a big shot who can't be offended.

Faer's attitude was peaceful: "We are personnel from the Adventurer's Guild, passing by here, and we do need to replenish some drinking water; sorry for the disturbance, please forgive us."

His gaze swept over the miserable faces of the surrounding villagers, and his tone changed, "However, I see that you all seem to have encountered quite a bit of trouble? I don't know what is bothering you; perhaps we can help a little?"

"Help?" A burly man couldn't help but interject, his voice full of grief and indignation, "You big shots from the city, besides collecting taxes, what will you manage for us? My field! My lifeblood! It was about to be harvested, and overnight, it was all gone!"

Stupid guy, just because of this sentence, Faer could kill him and no one could say anything.

But Faer noticed that his words resonated with many villagers, and many people lowered their heads and wiped their tears.

"Shut up, Hawk!" The village chief scolded, but the wrinkles on his face deepened, "My lord, please forgive the unreasonableness of this poor man; he is also so anxious that he has lost his mind."

Faer waved his hand: "It doesn't matter, tell me what's going on first."

The village chief sighed long:

"My lord, you don't know, just today, that large piece of the best wheat field on the west and north sides of our village, close to the mountain forest, suffered some kind of disaster.

Overnight, most of the wheat seedlings withered and died!

It's not insect damage, nor is it an ordinary blight; that stalk... is black, brittle, and turns into powder at a touch!

And... and people close to that field said they smelled a strange smell, and some people felt dizzy and nauseous.

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

Faer frowned; this description seemed a bit familiar to him.

"Can you take us to see it?" Faer's expression became serious.

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

The closer they got to the west of the village, the more obvious the smell of corruption mixed with some kind of pungent sweetness became.

Lillian wrinkled her delicate nose and quietly cast a weak purification spell to cleanse the air for herself and Faer.

The scene before them was shocking.

The wheat field that should have been golden was now like it had been touched by an invisible hand of death.

Large areas of wheat presented a strange charred black and withered yellow; the leaves were curled and brittle, with no vitality at all.

It formed a sharp contrast with the healthy fields in the distance.

Faer squatted down, ignoring the guards' obstruction, and carefully pinched a bit of black soil and a piece of withered leaf debris with his fingertips.

Feeling the burning sensation from his fingertips, Faer found the source of this familiarity.

"Corruption Potion?"