Legend had it that in the distant Age of Prosperity, the land bathed in rosy light had once been the most fertile place on this continent.
It had once been lush and flourishing, forests carpeting the hills and farmlands stretching as far as the eye could see. Metal servants had labored endlessly in the fields, while people needed not work and could indulge all day in the splendor of a prosperous age. Everything had been there from birth, inexhaustible for the taking.
The Sunset Province agricultural district alone had been enough to feed 90% of the planet's population.
Even today, though its former glory had been covered in dust, the afterglow of the setting sun still shone upon this place, warming the surviving remnants struggling amid the ruins.
It was still one of the happiest places in this wasteland.
As long as one did not enter the desert, there was no need to worry about those mutated creatures. Every inch of farmland here was protected by the armies of the various kingdoms and the "Riverbank."
Abundant food meant that the children of the Spirit of the Sand Sea did not need to fear hunger.
Though feudal, this place was united enough. Unlike the eastern provinces, which were scattered like loose sand, where a band of raiders could casually stir up a bloody storm and children barely out of swaddling clothes had to learn not only to walk, but to shoot, just to survive.
Facts had proven that during the difficult years after the apocalypse, it was better for everyone to believe in something together than to believe in nothing at all.
However—
In the eyes of William Falcon, prince and marshal of the Falcon Kingdom, this was far from enough.
Though the kingdoms were united internally through faith, there was