Chapter 220: Valen and Pika!

An hour and a half later, the Magic Swift Eagle squad returned safely to the castle.

When the six griffins landed, Mi Gen and the other knights were instantly stunned.

"Heaven… heavens, these… these are griffins? Am I seeing correctly?!"

"Mi Gen, you're not mistaken—we all saw they're griffins!"

Mi Gen and the others naturally understood how rare griffins were.

Though the kingdom was full of nobles, and many owned flying beasts, only a handful possessed griffins.

Only the royal family truly maintained a full-fledged griffin legion.

The other families owned only three or five, mostly for ceremonial purposes rather than combat.

Now, their lord had suddenly returned with six griffins—utterly unbelievable.

"But my lord, how could there be griffins? And so many of them? Aren't they supposed to be extremely rare?"

"Mi Gen, that's a good question. Ordinary griffins are indeed rare, but have you forgotten where we are? The Death Mountains!"

"Today, Zhui Yue said he saw a group of griffins fighting several sixth-rank Iron Spike Vultures—and it was fierce!"

"I originally went to watch the spectacle, but by the time I arrived, the battle was over—all surviving Iron Spike Vultures and griffins had left!"

"Only corpses remained, along with these few griffins barely clinging to life—I picked them up!"

"My lord… just like that?" Mi Gen and the knights exchanged glances.

"That's all it was. If I'd had more Magic Swift Eagles, I'd have brought back the corpses of the Iron Spike Vultures and griffins too!"

Mi Gen and the others fell silent.

But then again, hadn't their lord picked up plenty of valuable things before?

Weren't the Magic Swift Eagles and Fire Horses both found like this?

Though griffins were rarer, with Zhui Yue around, it wasn't surprising.

"My lord, if anything like this happens again, please take me along! The scene… must have been breathtaking?!" Mi Gen's face glowed with hope.

"No problem. Once we have enough flying beasts, I'll definitely bring you all along!"

At this moment, Wizard Isabella had been summoned; Gervas wasted no time and quickly explained the situation to her.

Upon learning Gervas wished to save the nearly dead griffins, Isabella replied: "My lord, these griffins are severely injured!"

"I can attempt to treat them, but I cannot guarantee all will survive."

"It will require various magical materials, even some pre-made potions."

"Isabella, do your best regardless of whether they live or not!"

"As for materials, don't worry about using them—use as much as you need. If we run out, I'll buy more later."

Come on, he was the man who received daily intelligence—when had he ever lacked magical materials?

Maybe next time he'd find a few more sea beast corpses.

"Yes, my lord!" Isabella wasted no time and immediately began treating the griffins.

Of course, before treatment, proper shackles and iron chains for their wings had to be arranged.

…

"Valen, ahead lies Storm Lord's territory. Are you certain it's grown wealthy?"

"Yes, I heard from Baron Pat's domain that Storm Lord's peasants now eat meat once a month, and their lord even bought Pat's iron mine!"

"Think about it—if these rumors are true, whether the peasants or the lord himself, they're dripping with wealth!"

"But what if the rumors are false?"

"If false, it's simple—we go to another territory, or if worse comes to worst, return to Baron Pat's domain!"

"But if true, we'll strike it rich. Storm Lord's peasants will gladly trade with us, and our goods will fetch high prices!"

"Moreover, what worries me most isn't whether the rumors are true, but whether the Storm Lord will tolerate us fugitives."

"If he hates fugitives like us, that's the real danger!"

"Sigh, let's just go and try. If the rumors are true, and Storm Lord's peasants have grown wealthy, then their lord must be kind-hearted!"

"Otherwise, how could those once destitute peasants have improved so quickly? Perhaps the Storm Lord won't hate us after all!"

"You're right, Pika—but no matter what, we must be cautious when we get there!"

Thus, Valen and Pika, two fugitives from the Chaos Wasteland, cautiously headed toward Wheatfield Town.

They had once visited Wheatfield Town before, but that was three years ago.

Back then, Storm Lord still had a lord—but later, his castle was overrun by demons, and Storm Lord fell into decline.

As time passed, the two had penetrated deep into Storm Lord's territory, yet to their relief, they encountered no patrols.

But that was normal—Storm Lord's population was so small, its guards couldn't be many.

The real danger would come when they tried selling their goods inside the town.

Soon, they reached the town's edge.

But they were immediately stunned by the vast, sprawling farmlands outside the town!

"Look at these fields—so neatly arranged, as if each had been measured with a ruler!"

"Yes, look at those irrigation canals—all built with stone blocks. Pika, don't you remember? In the past, Wheatfield Town didn't have this much farmland, did it?"

"That's right. I recall the old farmland only began north of this stream. The south side was all rocky flats and thickets—but now, it's all farmland, stretching beyond sight!"

"It's clear Storm Lord has truly grown wealthy!"

With awe, the two entered the town, hopeful yet uneasy.

There were no guards at the town gate, nor on the streets—gradually, they grew more at ease.

At the town square, they found it bustling with vendors setting up stalls.

They knew the rules: seeing all the sellers were locals, they chose a quiet corner to lay out their goods.

It was their first time—they dared not pick a prime spot.

The reason was simple: if they accidentally took a local's space, a single denunciation could bring guards—and they'd be in danger!

They laid out several animal pelts and dozens of pounds of dried smoked meat on linen cloth, even holding back their cries of sale.

They were observing—watching how others reacted to their arrival.

As they glanced around, a well-dressed man—clearly no commoner—approached them.

Behind him followed three or four burly peasants.

Instantly, their faces paled.

Before they could react, the man reached them: "Gentlemen, I'm Thomas, Civil Administrator of Storm Lord."

"C…Civil Administrator?!" Their faces turned deathly white.

If he were some thug, it'd be bearable.

But an official like a Civil Administrator—this was what they feared most.