As a somewhat barren city, the humble civilian district of Pelican City today plunged into a sea of jubilation.
The city's sustenance is derived from the surrounding scattered villages, where farmers are primarily summoned to cultivate the fields. Even those farmers have never witnessed such an exaggerated bounty, let alone the commoners who purchase rice from the shops.
Such a harvest brings excitement beyond anything else, with the scent of wheat wafting through the air and the dazzling golden yellow before one's eyes, unmistakably genuine.
The fertile lands of the south ensure that most of the populace does not suffer from terrible famines, yet, despite this, the civilians cannot lead lives of daily satiety.
After all, poverty is an incurable terminal illness.