"A foul stench."
To a druid accustomed to soil and greenery, the city was filled with the pungent odor of waste fluid mingled with metal.
Even though this was the Dragon Roar Dock District, swept by sea breezes and relatively clean compared to several Factory Districts and the drainage canals of the Lower Hidden Valley District—
To Harvey, it was still like a fermenting garbage heap, its heavy stone slabs cutting off the earth veins' breath.
Even the mint placed on those jutting balconies looked to him like natural spirits imprisoned in clay pots, wailing in the wind.
"Coo-coo-hoo—"
He let out a cry, alerting the demi-human girl on the street below to his presence.
"Little girl, have you noticed that evil aura too? Don't worry—Harvey Gilbert declares that I will protect your safety."
Harvey silently said to himself.
A few days earlier.
He had returned to Emerald Grove and reported to the Chief how he had successfully found Velsadorn's nest, as well as the entire course of events that ended with that stupid dragon casually giving the precious dragon egg to a human.
After hearing the report, the Chief, who spent all year meditating with his eyes closed, opened them.
The aged archdruid did not speak at once. Instead, sharp thorns began growing uncontrollably across the surface of the staff in his hand.
The mana in the surrounding air instantly grew heavy.
Though his tone remained calm, a storm-like majesty brewed within those deep-pool eyes.
Then, the Chief withdrew a pure prophecy crystal from the depths of his robes.
Mana poured into it without reserve. The Spell Model of [Detection Spell] rapidly took shape within the crystal, and intricate Runes lit up one ring after another, casting light over the Chief's taut face.
Seeing the Chief so rarely