The night breeze sighed through the woods, carrying mingled scents of pine needles, dragon dung, and blood.
A wave of unease washed over Zheng Qing, and he looked toward the edge of the woodland.
Shadows shrouded the boundary between the moonlight and the woods. A tall mill leaned to one side, looking like a stumbling drunk in the darkness. Farther away, the faint songs of a few nightingales drifted from the apple trees. Having spent years living at the dragon farm and clearing parasites off elderly fire dragons, they had developed a degree of immunity to dragon might, lending a little life to this blood-soaked, desolate place.
"That was left by the fire dragon's struggles."
Vass Egger noticed the mill at the end of the hunting team captain's gaze and gave a brief explanation. "The one that died was an adult Romanian Longhorn Dragon. It had a fiery temper to begin with... when those sprites attacked it, it sprayed Dragon Breath wildly in every direction... and destroyed that mill."
At that, he shrugged and added, "Fire dragons generally have bad tempers, so buildings like mills at the Dragon Hunting Ground get damaged easily. That's nothing unusual in itself, but destruction on this scale is still rare."
"What does a dragon farm need a mill for?"
"When we prepare concentrated feed, we need to grind chestnuts, acorns, corn, and other crops into flour... fire dragons mostly eat meat, but when they lose their appetite or get sick, or when they're young, they need specially prepared feed. When I was little, I loved fighting the little dragons for their chestnuts. Their chestnuts were soaked in honey, and they tasted wonderful!"
Because Lin Guo liked dragons, Zheng Qing had picked up quite a bit about the habits of wild dragons. But many of