"The crow of roosters could no longer be heard, nor the calls of hens summoning their chicks... People's eyes could no longer see the once-familiar emerald
green pastures and grain-filled fields. Everywhere they looked, there were only desolate thorns and wild grass."
Romon flew back.
The pleasant ringing of bells remained, but they were often no longer calling people to worship. Instead, they warned of enemies invading, reminding everyone
to find a place to hide before the enemy arrived.
Besides fending off demon attacks, ordinary villagers also suffered harassment from armed bandits. They often rode in groups, stirring up chaos and extorting money.
Romon rode Lightning through the sky, looking down below.
It was already September, and the spring wheat had been harvested. In his territory, row upon row of orderly fields stretched out below, while thousands of subjects worked hard.
They had two tasks.
First, they had to harvest large amounts of wild grass, dry it, and store it away as food for the poultry and livestock during winter.
Second, they had to plow the fields in preparation for planting winter wheat next month.
Everything was in perfect order. Romon smiled and had Lightning descend, landing in front of the warehouse.
The warehouse had been newly built, with wooden planks laid across the ground to keep moisture from seeping into the goods. Romon stepped inside, sensed that no one was around, and with a thought, stacks of flour sacks appeared across the floor.
This was wheat that had only just been harvested—thirty whole tons!
Wheat took six months to grow, but within Shennong Horn, it took only three. In the blink of an eye, another harvest had arrived.
Thirty tons was not much. It would only meet the territory's food needs for two months.
After thinking for a moment,