Mist World. October.
A tremendous explosion rang out. Leaves fluttered down, and countless animals shrieked in terror.
Even dozens of miles away, a dark brown mushroom cloud could be seen rising straight into the sky.
Black smoke blotted out the sky, where dusk had already begun to gather.
In an area sixty or seventy miles away, Bishop Kanrongpa looked back.
Haboba looked up as well. "Have Hangel City and that evil god Xifilan fallen?"
"They have. Three lords attacked together and occupied most of the territory. We gained a small portion as well. Although it was only a tenth, we seized five thousand slaves. That was enough," Bishop Kanrongpa said with feeling.
"Could we end up...?" Haboba asked, somewhat worried.
"No. After what happened to the evil god Xifilan, the nearby gods no longer dare take risks. If they attacked another territory and failed, suffering serious injuries, they would only hand someone else an opportunity."
"Besides, we have the protection of the great Romon God and the Great Dragon. No one dares make a move," Bishop Kanrongpa said proudly. "And I have already reached a trade agreement with them. Merchant caravans will be coming from now on."
"True enough. Our next task is construction, then. I also seized some magical texts this time. Perhaps we can build a small Mage Tower someday, so our mages can pass on their knowledge," Haboba said, then asked, "By the way, everyone in the city is now a proper believer, correct?"
"They are. They can be resettled outside the city without any problem. Once these five thousand people arrive, you can move two or three thousand residents out and settle them in villages, such as Iron Mine Village and Salt Lake Village, which you have always wanted to build."
"Ah, that would be wonderful.