Meanwhile, back in Moonvilla;
Qin Wei was in a deep sleep. He was frowning deeply and sweating hard as his consciousness drifted into dreams, or something else entirely.
The sun hung low, brushing the hills with honey-colored light. Birds circled lazily above the barren step fields of Achaea, and King Damonis stood barefoot in the soil.
Damonis stood at the edge of the field, his bare feet sinking into cool, damp soil.
Behind him, two royal guards held the gleaming ploughshare of his plough—its metal as bright as the morning sun.
And a large crowd gathered around the place, everyone was here only to witness what their King was doing, ploughing in this cursed land, where not even a single green leaf could be seen in sight. The land looked like a graveyard for the trees; all were dried and dead.
