"Remember to tend this field exactly as I just told you. When harvest comes, there will definitely be a bumper crop."
A young man in a Druid Robe, its hem marked with five Druid rank insignias, stood at the edge of the fields, speaking confidently to the village chief beside him.
A circle of farmers surrounded them, all filled with reverence for the young man. What he represented was not merely a bountiful harvest, but authority—and the prestige of the Giant Eagle Druid School.
The Druid squad he led had come here on behalf of the Giant Eagle Druid School and Lord Romon. They had received an enthusiastic welcome from every villager, not only because they were Druids, but because of the importance they attached to this village.
"My lord, rest assured, we will certainly follow your instructions." How great an honor was it to have a Fifth-Level Druid personally guide the planting and cultivation of crops in their village?
Presumably, apart from the people of Tatshaw Territory, no residents of any other territory could enjoy such a distinction!
"Good. I'll come back in a few days to check on things. That will be all—I should head back now." The Druid nodded in satisfaction as he spoke.
"My lord, won't you stay for lunch before leaving? We've already prepared the meal. Please eat before you go." The village chief did his utmost to persuade him to stay.
"We shouldn't trouble you." The Druid hesitated for a moment.
Looking at the sun, it was already noon. The school was quite far from here, and hurrying back in time for lunch would indeed be difficult.
"It's no trouble, not at all! My lord, the food is already prepared. It truly is no trouble—the entire village is waiting for you. Please, come with