This was the second farm barrier Ange had ever seen. It was roughly the same size and almost identically structured, giving him a feeling of coming home. He had been itching to plant something for a long time.
Seeing that the Minotaur had turned the fields into a mess, with sparse crops showing signs of malnutrition, he felt uneasy.
Years of cultivation had led to a loss of soil nutrients, soil compaction and degeneration, resulting in decreasing crop yields.
The Minotaur aunt was chewing on a sweet beet, and unleashed her grievances when her energy was at its peak, "We really can't help it. This place is a closed world, filled with stones and nothing else. We're lucky just to survive. Thanks to the occasional fish swimming in the well, or else we would have starved a long time ago."
Negris reviewed the Minotaurs' conditions and couldn't help but show sympathy: "Indeed, the conditions are extremely harsh. It's a miracle that you guys managed to survive."
