As the Gnoll ladled food onto his plate, its final gaze at him clearly held something unusual, but it did not hinder him, faithfully serving the food and ensuring to admonish him, "You're only permitted to eat, not to leave any leftovers, and certainly not to throw it away, otherwise you will be severely punished, woof."
Its accented Common Tongue, was filled with seriousness and sincerity.
Archer couldn't help but ask curiously, "Is the food here always of this standard on normal days?"
"This is the non-work meal, the work meal is better, more meat, tastier bread."
That's it? And it's not even the best?
Archer's eyes lit up irresistibly. Such meals were not something an average farmer's family could afford to sustain.
At an inn or restaurant, they would all be considered acceptable, worth at least a silver coin.
And that was just the portion for an ordinary person.
The amount he had already consumed was worth more than five silver coins.
