Above The Sky
Chapter 58 - 58 56 Father's Blood

58: Chapter 56: Father’s Blood 58: Chapter 56: Father’s Blood “This fruit core is still fresh, don’t sell it to the drugstores on Central Avenue.”

Brin, a person who would think of stealing from children and who had rather low standards, thickened his face to accept the Sumo Fruit Core and then cleared his throat, informing Ian of a piece of insider information, “Sell it to the Gil Family’s distillery; they are trying to grow liquor trees…

Selling it as medicine or poison, where’s the profit in selling it as seeds?”

“Of course, saplings are best, but the Sumo Liquor Trees are heavily guarded by the Natives, and even the seeds are mostly used in life-or-death situations, hard to recover, so one is worth seven or eight Talle.”

“Indeed.”

It was an easy principle to understand; Ian nodded slightly, catching on quickly.

“It’s about time to go.”

Seeing that Brin had regained much of his strength and decided to set off while the night was dark and before his injuries worsened.

“You can see, you lead the way.” Brin nodded, then picked up the still-unconscious Native knife wielder and closely followed Ian.

They traveled safely.

The forest to the northeast of Harrison Port had long been cleared completely, leaving only a white land that had been deliberately covered with salty soil.

This was to prevent the Natives from contacting the Forest Ocean Spirit and summoning living tree totems for an attack, with the farmland primarily located along the northern official road by the sides of Ivoke River.

From the salty soil began a stone road leading directly to the nearby Bel Village, with Guard Squads patrolling this road daily to inspect various villages and farms.

Alongside the road were watchtowers lit with torches that illuminated the dark earth at night.

Ian and Brin walked along guided by the light from the watchtowers; though they didn’t encounter any Native squads, they remained on high alert throughout.

It was not until the two reached the bright area under a watchtower and saw the towering walls of Harrison Port that they finally took a breather and relaxed a bit.

At the same time, they saw many people, some alone, some in groups, coming from all directions and converging below the city gate tower.

Most of these people looked panic-stricken and disheveled, with some seriously injured and covered in blood.

Ian knew at a glance that they must be lumberjacks or fishermen from the surrounding villages, who, like himself, had encountered Native attacks yet miraculously survived.

“Don’t panic, line up, confirm your identity, then enter the city in an orderly manner!”

A City Defense Force squad was maintaining order; these soldiers, usually slack, were unusually clad in half-plate armor and helmets, holding crossbows as they went into combat readiness.

The squad leader’s solemn, stern voice came from his helmet: “Viscount Grant has set up a free porridge distribution point.

After entering the city, everyone can have porridge and there will be a place to stay—but do not shout loudly or cause a disturbance!”

“Anyone stirring trouble recklessly will be considered a Native spy and detained.

Resist, and be killed.”

Hearing this succinct yet forceful display of grace and intimidation, the frightened crowd gradually calmed down, but Ian and Brin did not join the crowd.

“We have captured a prisoner!”

Because Brin’s lung was injured, Ian spoke for him.

The boy’s clear voice caught the attention of the squad leader, who, seeing the contorted but still breathing body of the Native in Brin’s hands due to the Terra people’s resilient physique, immediately brightened up, “What?”

“Brin?

You’re lucky…”

He seemed to recognize the herb picker, but before the City Defense Force squad leader could come forward to escort Ian and Brin back to the city, another surprised voice called out, “Ian?”

Heavy footsteps, like rocks hitting the ground, sounded as Elder Prude appeared in front of the city gate.

His presence immediately caused the City Defense Force squad leader to step back slightly, showing respect, but Elder Prude didn’t pay attention to this gesture of reverence and instead hurried forward, looking over Ian with surprise, “Good, you’re not injured.”

The White Folks Elder shook his beard as he scrutinized Ian’s current state and also glanced at Brin, injured but smiling apologetically, and laughed heartily, “Well done, Brin, you did well!”

“No, it wasn’t me…” Brin dared not take the credit, but before he could finish, Elder Prude withdrew his gaze and locked eyes with Ian, “I, of course, know it wasn’t you.

With your personality, if you had really saved Ian’s life and caught a prisoner, you’d have already asked for a reward by now.”

“Ian, did you do it?”

His inquiry was brief and forceful, his eyes intensely focused on the young boy.

“Um…

sort of.”

Without denying it, for Ian astutely noticed that beneath Elder Prude’s loose robe, he wore a layer of chainmail, and at his waist was slung a warhammer, all ready for battle.

And behind the city gate, he saw several of Elder Prude’s usual guards, also armored in leather and fully armed, waiting.

——He was about to leave the city.

Ian realized this and also understood very clearly that except for himself, Elder Prude had no reason to risk leaving the city— even if the White Folks’ farms were destroyed, the benefit was too trivial compared to the risk.

The other party…

wanted to rescue him.

“I see.” He mused, “It appears my identity as a Spirit Energy User…

may be more valued than I had imagined?”

Nevertheless, Elder Prude’s readiness to prepare and search for him, someone who had most likely perished—a usually grim fate for an eight-year-old child attacked by Natives—simply for that, Ian was willing to acknowledge the favor.

“Regardless, even if it’s for the identity of the Spirit Energy User, the close tribal relationship of the White Folks is still quite commendable.”