From high above, this territory lay against a mountain range.
The rolling mountains rose layer upon layer, their rocky ridges overlapping, naturally covered with jungles and forests.
This place had many mountains and hills, as well as many lakes and rivers. A plain stretched for hundreds of kilometers—a truly excellent region—and farther away, forests extended without end.
Farther still lay a lake. The wind swept across its surface, stirring ripples upon ripples. Sunlight reflected off the water, while lush green grass spread along the shore amid clusters of dense trees, making the scene tranquil and peaceful.
In the distance were stretches of farmland and villages.
The only unpleasant thing was this place—a swamp exuding the stench of rot and death.
Romon floated down. In truth, there were no roads in the swamp at all. Especially in June, when frequent rains often temporarily connected the marshes into one, it looked like a lake as far as the eye could see.
Life was indeed tenacious. Even in this mutated swamp, all manner of plants remained. Though they looked somewhat rotten, they still struggled to survive.
Having sensed the swamp's distinctive Demonic Corruption, Romon descended.
He walked upon the water.
A level-three Druid spell was called "Treading the Waves"—traveling across the surface of water!
But that naturally had a time limit. It was nothing like Romon's current leisurely stride, unhurried and composed.
In truth, the key to dealing with this swamp lay in the source of contamination formed by the fusion of the Sacred Domain and a Demon noble.
For other professions, and even other Sacred Domain experts, resolving it would have been troublesome.
The straightforward method was forced purification. But for Romon, as long as he found it, he could deal with it—Shennong Horn surely would not mind gaining another flower fertilizer.