In the blink of an eye, three months had passed. In the Mist World, it was already early summer.
Summer sunlight shone brilliantly, and the mist dispersed for longer periods.
However, it was dusk now. Dense clouds churned overhead, shrouding the sky and turning it gloomy and dark. Romon looked up without the slightest dislike. Perhaps a few rains would restore nature's prosperity more quickly?
Yet when he recalled the storm-cloud-like mass gathering above the ancient city, Romon's expression darkened.
Even if their faith was not steadfast, even if there were only a little over ten thousand of them, three hundred years had passed after all. Romon could feel that formidable might and power.
To some extent, that power even far surpassed an Abyss Count. It was the power of a Divine Being.
Romon was not confident that he could kill the other party, so he could only withdraw first.
However, the village appearing in the distance made him smile in relief.
"His Highness! His Highness has returned!" A guard shouted from atop the wooden wall in the distance, and the gates were swiftly opened.
"Your Highness!" Gesuo came forward to greet him. After three months, he no longer bore the haggard look of a drifter; what showed now was the sharp competence of a warrior.
"To the warehouse!" Romon ordered simply.
"Yes, Your Highness."
By now, the village had acquired a large cluster of buildings.
On either side of the neat roads, laid out in a grid pattern, stood wooden houses for ordinary residents. There were now seventy households. Yes, the population had grown again, reaching around two hundred and thirty people.
At several designated sites stood a mill, an oil press, warehouses, and underground cellars.
Vegetable plots had been opened nearby, while great numbers of fruit trees had