[Book 2] Chapter 9

  The Great Granary

  《Baleon’s Log》

  Morning on the Autumn Plain — Outer Plain

  [Fael] Standing at the edge of a plateau overlooking the plain, confirming the route ahead.

  [Serio] Checking the health of the Dune Elbas. → All are in good condition.

  [Maya] Having woken early and finished his preparations, he now gazes at the “hawk’s feather charm” he received from Eryna.

  At the border between the steppe and the plain, we concluded the Regular Information Exchange with Eryna, the Next Chieftain of the Falconer Clan, and descended into the plain, where we passed the night.

  Unlike the chill of the steppe, the plain felt mild, though sudden rains were common. Thanks to Xaelo, each of us had a small tent for shelter.

  Today, we follow the Hillside Road that runs across the Outer Plain toward the Inner Plain.

  If all goes well, we may glimpse the golden fields by day’s end.

  Having descended from the steppe into the plain, Fael’s company now traveled along the Hillside Road.

  The path traced the ridges in a horizontal line, leading at last to the threshold of the Great Granary.

  Though little known, it was a vital trade path for the Steppe Caravans—a lifeline linking the nomads with the farmers of the plain.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

  It had been only a few days since the companions last passed this way, yet already the wind carried the signs of deepening autumn, telling them the plain was in the very midst of harvest, its most vibrant season.

  The road curved sharply and cut through a hill, and beyond it, the land opened vast before them.

  Maya gasped at the sight.

  When he had first descended from the mountain village to the plain, its vastness had amazed him. But this—this boundless sweep of golden fields—was unlike anything he had ever seen.

  It was as if nature and humankind together had painted a great canvas.

  Fael halted his Elba and spoke.

  “This land was shaped by the great river and by the hands of people over long years. Maya, what you see before you—this is the Great Granary that feeds the five hundred thousand souls of the White Capital.”

  It was the first time Maya had ever heard such an immense number.

  Yet before the dazzling sweep of gold, the greatness of the capital was plain to see.

  For a time he was struck silent, overwhelmed by the view.

  Each time the wind swept the plain, the golden stalks swayed together, shimmering as though he were watching the back of a vast beast lying across the earth, its beautiful coat rippling with light.

  They pressed on along the Hillside Road, the Great Granary stretching below them.

  The scenery gradually transformed, and the endless golden fields that had stretched on just moments before now changed in appearance.

  Now they gave way to a patchwork of colors, as though many different fabrics had been stitched together.

  Different crops, each with its own shade, lay in orderly rows.

  With the patchwork plain at their side, Fael turned his Elba onto a gentle slope.

  At the foot of the descent, the road broadened, leading them between the fields.

  At the roadside, he greeted an elderly farmer with a smile.

  “How fares the harvest this year?”

  The farmer, recognizing Fael, smiled in return.

  “Thanks to steady rains, the crops are good in most places. Now we’re at the height of the wheat harvest—every family’s out in the fields.”

  His face softened with relief and joy as he continued.

  “As for me, I’ve started gathering beans today. Once the wheat is cleared, we’ll move on to the hemp seed. So next week, I’ll be back out here again, just me alone.”

  He laughed as he tied a bundle of bean stalks heavy with pods.

  Maya watched him work, recalling the small fields of the mountain village—picking beans, pulling greens, piling tubers into baskets.

  The scale here was utterly different. Even the soil itself—its color, weight, scent—was not the same.

  And unlike the mountain village, there was no need to clear stones from the fields.

  Yet Maya felt that here too, life in harmony with the soil was alive and well.

  The party left the farmer with brief farewells and moved on.

  Beneath the gentle autumn sun, the road wound between fields until a small village came into view.

  Beyond it stretched nothing but fields and road again.

  It seemed they would seek lodging in this village tonight.

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