The howls of Pick and the others were quickly carried away by the wind, never to be mentioned again.
But awe took root in people's hearts, and order was reinforced. The farmers treated every sea-salt potato with painstaking care, as if it were a precious treasure.
The damage rate plummeted. In the warehouse, the golden-yellow crops piled up like mountains, emitting the distinct aroma of starch.
This was the scent of a bountiful harvest, the scent of hope.
But to the hungry beasts in the marsh, it was the scent of food.
The wind carried this tempting scent in every direction.
"SCHLICK!"
The standard-issue longsword in Barrett's hand slid through the thick hide of a marsh tusk boar as easily as if it were cutting through butter.
After advancing to a Level 4 Warrior, his strength and speed had taken a qualitative leap.
