"This used to be the hop plantation."
North of the iron mine lay what had once been Nightfall Domain's massive hop farm. Only beer brewed with hops could produce truly exceptional ale, and Nightfall Domain's beer had once been just as famous as its wine.
Looking at the tentacles covering the ground and the corpses bound by corrupted plants, Phield shook his head in disappointment.
"Nightfall Domain's climate and environment are perfect for brewing. Once we can sustain ourselves with food production, we'll find a way to revive the brewing industry."
Alcohol was profit beyond profit. If he were not worried about starving people to death, Phield would have already started pouring money into it.
"There are only mutated rats left in the warehouse. Nothing useful remains."
Tisiana smashed open the rotten warehouse door with her wings and wandered inside for a look before pinching her nose in disgust.
"That was expected."
"My lord, should we build a wooden fortress here?"
