With the sea breeze fluttering the branches, leaves shook. Some fell to the ground, while others stood against the wind. A poppy farmer looked toward the sun, his gaze worrisome. He exhaled deeply, expecting something bad to happen soon.
Yet there was still hope in his eyes, for he had requested help from the Adventurer Guild.
"God, send someone brave to save us," he pleaded, his gaze suddenly turning darker.
Before his eyes, a swarm of darkness moved toward him and his field. He slowly stepped back.
He blew the horn and then dashed off in the opposite direction.
The sound of the horn echoed across the entire poppy field.
Along the edges, people emerged from the poppy fields. Torches were lit in their hands.
Stray hay mixed with certain fauna was immediately set ablaze, encircling the outer edge of the field. As the wind blew toward the forest, the men who lit the fire quickly turned back, covering their faces with wet cloth.
One of them cried, "Don't breathe the smoke!"
