Landon Monastery was not located in Laterano's city center, but out in the suburbs. Golden wheat fields stretched as far as the eye could see, their humble stalks bowing low and swaying in the wind like dancing waves of gold.
Hoshino was somewhat dazed.
Such a luxurious scene seemed ill-suited to a mobile city-state. Planting crops on a single layer of land was an enormous waste of space.
In any self-sufficient mobile city-state, agriculture was carried out intensively. At the very least, there would be high-rises with five floors covered in soil. A practice like Landon Monastery's made such poor use of land that it would never be permitted.
Yet in Laterano, it was perfectly ordinary.
Because it was tradition.
"Sure enough, waves of wheat under the sun are the most beautiful." Hoshino even stretched, putting on an appropriately relaxed and leisurely air.
"I think it's far too monotonous."
Everyone had their own thoughts. For someone who had studied and grown up in such an environment, seeing the same scenery for so many years and growing tired of it was perfectly normal.
Hoshino could understand that.
The road running through the wheat fields was four lanes wide and built from packed earth. It did not even have the most basic layer of asphalt. It was traditional to that extent.
"What do you usually study at Landon Monastery?"
Hoshino asked.
Fiammetta answered as though reciting treasures from memory. "Prayer, weapon disassembly, wilderness survival, combat, farming, and bread baking... of course, etiquette as well."
That was quite comprehensive.
Hoshino nodded, unsure where to even begin criticizing it.
This was a training center for combat nuns, wasn't it?
The people it produced were all like Fiammetta: clad in light armor, able to hit targets from a hundred paces away, with the arm strength