He squinted to look at the thick parchment.
He once had eyes like lightning, scary enough to kill a person, but now his vision had weakened severely. He found it hard to distinguish a crow from a black eagle even ten meters away, seeing only a blurred shadow.
In the bottom left corner of the letter, there was a sketch of a wheat field with rough but exceptionally vivid lines.
Just as mentioned in the letter.
That wheat field was more productive than the most fertile land in the world.
Ear to ear, each grain of wheat was extremely plump, and the dense stalks extended toward the boundless horizon...
An artist who had never witnessed this scene could never capture it.
He threw the parchment into the fire pit, where a suckling pig roasted over the bonfire as the chef prepared his lunch. The parchment twisted and deformed on the burning wood, then flared up dramatically.
