Corruption Potion, a poison with extremely destructive effects on the environment.

The cost is not low, and most of its main ingredients come from within the Hermit Empire...

Fa'er calmly observed the withered fields, his brows slightly furrowed.

He keenly noticed a phenomenon: the wilting caused by the toxin was not evenly distributed.

The fields closer to the main irrigation canals were withered most thoroughly, as if burned by fire.

While some fields that were a bit farther from the canals and slightly elevated still had some resilient wheat seedlings turning yellow, not completely dead.

"Sir... Do you know what this is?" The old village chief trembled as he caught up, asking with a glimmer of hope.

Fa'er slowly stood up, brushed off the debris from his hands, and Lillian stepped forward to cast a Purification Technique on his hand.

Fa'er, with a puzzled look, gently shook his head: "The situation is very complex. This is a malignant disease I've never seen before. Judging from the symptoms, it seems to be a mix of wilting, decay, and unknown factors, and it looks contagious."

He deliberately avoided sensitive words like "Corruption Potion" and "poisoning."

"A malignant disease... So it's a disease!" The villagers' faces turned pale.

"Can it be cured? Sir, please save our fields!"

Upon hearing "contagious," the village chief dropped to his knees with tears streaming down his face.

Most of the village's wheat fields are adjacent; if it spreads, wouldn't it be a total loss?

The other villagers also began to plead one after another.

Fa'er did not rush to answer the village chief's question but instead pointed to some still intact fields and asked, "Are these fields irrigated with the same canal as the completely withered fields or is there any difference?"

The village chief wiped his tears, looked in the direction Fa'er pointed, and hesitated: "Ah? It's... it's the same main canal, but..."

He seemed to have remembered something and continued pointing at the complex distribution points between the fields:

"Our village's old canal was built decades ago, with several small branches to accommodate fields of different slopes.

The area near the mountain foot, which withered the worst, is directly irrigated by the main canal, carrying the most water.

The fields you mentioned... it seems they're watered by the branches.

That canal is old and in poor condition, leaking heavily in several places, hence much less water flows through and it's much slower…"

At this point, the village chief obviously realized something too, "Are you saying the disease is... coming from the main canal? I... I'll get someone to block it immediately!"

Fa'er grabbed the old village chief, shook his head, and said, "Not necessarily, all the wheat here is already dead, blocking it now makes no sense."

He turned to the bewildered villagers and announced loudly, "Everyone, this disease is strange and may require more professional people to deal with it. But please don't worry, I will report this immediately, and someone will come to handle it promptly."

After saying that, Fa'er didn't take any water and left Deer Horn Village under the grateful yet worried eyes of the villagers, and the convoy drove down the road, quickly disappearing from the villagers' sight.

...

In the dead of night, silence reigned.

A ghostly figure quietly slipped out from an inconspicuous corner of the village.

Using the shadows and terrain, he skillfully evaded any possible lines of sight; his target was precisely those few branch canals!

"This damn broken canal, why does it have so many branches?" The black figure crouched by a branch canal, taking out the small remaining half-bottle of black potion from his bosom, annoyed, "I don't even know if this will be enough..."

"Enough for what?"

A curious voice erupted like thunder beside the black figure, who turned back in fright.

Only to see Fa'er standing a short distance away, hands clasped behind his back, watching him with a smile.

"You... you!?" He clearly saw the convoy leaving!

"Are all Demon Race spies as stupid as you?" Fa'er mocked leisurely, addressing the man dressed as a villager, "exposed with just a little trick."

The half-bottle of Corruption Potion was thrown, easily dodged by Fa'er.

Amidst Fa'er's evasive action, the villager's hands transformed into two large claws, lunging at Fa'er.

"You are the fool, daring to come alone!" Realizing he had been exposed, the spy immediately went all out.

"Not necessarily." Fa'er stood still, seemingly not intending to dodge at all.

The spy sensed something amiss, but with the arrow strung, he had to release, and still charged straight ahead.

But was forcibly stopped halfway.

Before him was nothing; what was holding him back?

Tier One Magic — Frozen Hand!

The cold encompassed his chest, the spy's body frozen entirely in an instant, leaving only his head exposed.

In front of him, light and shadow twisted, revealing Lillian's figure.

"It's a shapeshifter." Lillian said with some disgust, clapping her hands.

Fa'er nodded; shapeshifter is a derogatory term for the Shapeshifter species. Being able to transform into claws is indeed the standard skill of a shapeshifter.

Footsteps approached from afar, it was two guards stationed at a distance.

The remaining two guards and eight clerical staff remained by the carriage.

Soon, the villagers were awakened, looking at the spy carried to the open ground by the guards, a female farmer screamed in horror.

"Yak? What's going on?"

The two guards glanced at Fa'er, receiving permission, slashed the spy's frozen claws repeatedly with swords.

Initially, the ground-bound spy endured, but soon, he cried out loudly in immense pain.

The villager's face twisted, shifting through several faces in succession.

Seeing this, the guards stopped, "That's it, it's a shapeshifter."

"Then... where's my husband?" trembled the farmwoman.

The guard shrugged without answering, but the answer was clear—hiding a dead person is certainly easier than hiding a living one.

The farmwoman fainted, supported by the villagers beside her in time.

Fa'er conversed privately with the village chief, leaving behind two gold coins, instructing the chief to help those affected villagers through the difficult times.

Then, he took the spy away from the village.

"You two, escort this guy back to the guild leader."

No further instructions were needed; his father, upon receiving the spy, would naturally take appropriate measures, and he need not give any additional opinions.

"Yes!" The two guards saluted and left along the route.

And Fa'er returned to the carriage, without planning to delay, intending to continue towards Dumb Wind Town at dawn.

Yet, lying in the carriage, Fa'er couldn't relax.

Kneeling beside him, Lillian asked, "What's wrong? Isn't catching a spy a good thing? Why the furrowed brows?"

"I'm just puzzled as to why.

Common reconnaissance skills can't detect shapeshifters; they're naturally excellent spies.

But their numbers have never been high, theoretically they wouldn't be used up like this.

Destroy some farmland?

Even if the entire country had no crops, the Kingdom could purchase enough grain from the Forest Elves.

I can't understand the significance of them doing this."

Due to their unique environment and inherent Druid talent, Forest Elves can explosively produce grain at a certain cost when necessary.

To curb the expansion of the Hermit Empire, they clearly would not want those at the forefront to crumble just because of a food shortage.

So Fa'er couldn't comprehend why the Demon Race would waste their spies in this way.

"If you can't figure it out, then stop thinking about it, will you not rest until you do?" Lillian said softly.

Fa'er sighed; Lillian was right. His father, the guild leader, could worry about this, while he should consider how to handle the Underground City's anomaly after taking office next month; he heard the Church also intends to send someone over to assist...

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