After the Torch Festival, there is still one month left before winter ends. Before that, everyone is preparing to clear the uncultivated land so that we can resume farming once the snow melts in spring.

I am happy to work with everyone on various tasks that we have not done before and learn life skills. Going south from the Southern Plain, it is all loess soil, and there are no crops that can be grown on loess soil. The areas being cleared are mainly the vacant land left after the forests were cut down. The kingdom is located north of the mountains, and no one knows what the environment is like after crossing the mountain, but since the kingdom has not expanded further north, it is not likely to be a habitable environment.

The method of land reclamation in Night Fall Town is very primitive, relying on horses and plows to turn the soil back and forth twice. However, the frozen soil in winter is quite hard, so we have to dig the surface soil by hand before using horses to plow.

In addition to land reclamation, I once returned to the "old site" of Night Fall Town for a survey. There is not a single house left, wooden houses burned down, stone houses shattered, and the most intact building is actually the previously dilapidated chapel. Speaking of the old site of Night Fall Town, it involves distance measurement. The kingdom and Night Fall Town use the same unit of measurement, with the smallest unit of length being the diameter of a rifle bullet, called grekesh, which is equivalent to about fifteen millimeters. However, the conversion units are very strange. Six point three grekesh equals one nash, and six point three nash equals one hash. They also use standard decimal system, which is somewhat contradictory.

However, if we consider it together with the magic units, it is easy to understand. The magic measurement measures the magic value of an ordinary person as one lir, and the minimum standard magic value for a mage is six point three lir. It is very likely that the Magic Council used this as a standard and set the conversion of weight and length units to 1:6.3. Before the Magic Council came into power, the conversion unit might have been ten. Otherwise, why would the magic meter be made in decimal units?

Continuing with distance measurement, my purpose of measurement was simple, to improve the spring battle plan by combining it with the range of the cannons. The caliber of the captured ninety-four infantry cannons is two nash, close to two hundred millimeters. The effective range of these cannons is much farther than the estimated seven hundred meters, and I want to make the most efficient use of them.

In addition, when mapping, I accomplished a human feat - riding on a Thunderbird.

First of all, let me explain that I have a fear of heights. And one more thing to correct is that the phrase "riding on the back of the Thunderbird" is inaccurate, it should be "lying on the back of the Thunderbird."

At this moment, the Thunderbird is no longer electrified, which confirms my speculation. The Thunderbird has poor digestion, much like domesticated chickens, and it is also a carnivorous animal. It often swallows small stones to aid digestion. Previously, the Thunderbird lived on the mountaintop, where the small stones were likely to have magic and the Thunderbird stored the charge inside its body after swallowing them. Now that it can't eat those magic stones, it naturally doesn't have electricity. However, there is one downside, the ink-blue feathers have faded into a light brown color like sparrows, looking quite ordinary.

Who cares, anyway, the Thunderbird is living much more comfortably than before.

On the day of riding the Thunderbird, we had just finished lunch, and a few people were joking around this big sparrow.

"You know, this big bird is quite clever."

"Yeah, it can actually find us on its own."

"The question is, what's the use of keeping it?"

"I don't know."

"Hey, we used to stay far away from it when we saw it, but now this guy is not dangerous at all."

"Obviously, if it was dangerous, would we dare to keep it?"

"So what's the point of keeping it?"

"That can't be... are we going to butcher it and eat the meat?"

"Quack!"

The Thunderbird seemed to understand Park's words and flew over to flap its wings at the Craftsman. Everyone scattered in chaos.

"Honey, do you think I can ride on it and fly to the sky?"

"No, if you fall, I won't be able to catch you."

"If it can't take me flying, then this giant bird is useless."

"Raul, I bet you can ride it to the sky."

Wolfrang overheard our conversation and came over to play with me.

"Heh heh, I bet Raul will be so scared he'll shout 'Honey, save me'."

"Oh? What are we betting on?"

"I bet five gold coins."

"Park, I'll bet you five gold coins that Raul will definitely be able to ride the Thunderbird and fly this afternoon."

Without my consent, Park and Wolfrang started a private gambling game. People around us started placing bets: at first only humans, but later werewolves and succubi came to join in the fun.

"I bet a bottle of perfume that Raul will fall off."

"I bet two bottles of liquor that Raul will definitely be able to fly."

"I bet a scarf..."

The bets became chaotic, until Ned showed up and placed a big jar of honey on the side where he believed I would not be able to fly.

Everyone's eyes widened. What did the honey mean? It meant a huge bet. There was no sugar here, and honey was the only sweet food available. In the kingdom, only the nobles could afford such delicacies, while the poor peasants in the third-level territories could only rely on fruits to taste sweetness. In Night Fall Town, although the supply of honey was more accessible than in the kingdom, it was still highly valuable. Ned was also one of the former clients who had traded secretly with the kingdom. Naturally, he had brought quite a few of the kingdom's good things with him.

A jar of honey was worth about one hundred gold coins. And the total odds had already exceeded thirty-eight to one.

"Raul, if you can ride the big bird and fly, this jar of honey will be yours. If you can't fly, well, it'll just be a joke for everyone, how about that?"

Ned meant no harm, but he truly didn't believe I could make the Thunderbird carry me to soar the sky.

"Ned, if I get scared now, wouldn't it tarnish the reputation of Chen Raul?"

After saying that, I boldly turned around. Some people cheered, some shouted, all waiting for me to make a fool of myself in a while. I quickly pulled Sasa aside and spoke quietly.

"Honey, what should I do? I dare not ride that darn bird!"

"You're showing off on your own, what else can I say?"

"Aren't you afraid if your husband falls from the sky and turns into a pile of dead meat?"

"Well... then don't fly."

"No, that would make me look weak..."

"It's not too late to regret now."

"Well... never mind, I'll give it a try. Quietly tell Leya to be prepared to catch me..."

It's not that I didn't dare to ride the Thunderbird. If it carries me to the height of the treetops and I fall, there won't be a life-threatening danger, and Sasa can catch me. But if we're talking about hundreds of meters of altitude, and I fall from the back of the bird...

Even if the Thunderbird is huge, it's not possible to sit on its back without any tools. I reluctantly tied a horse harness around its head.

"Um, later, don't make any sudden movements, I'm a little scared."

"Ga Ga?"

"Just don't throw me off, please, bird brother."

"Ga~~~"

After confirming that Leya was no longer distracting the other succubi and was now staring at me, I struggled to climb onto the back of the Thunderbird. Like most birds, when the Thunderbird was on the ground, it stood upright with its back at an angle greater than sixty degrees. Trying to stay on its back required holding onto the reins and gripping tightly with my legs.

"Raul, don't be scared, alright~"

"Raul, remember to protect your head if you fall~"

The succubi didn't hold back with their teasing. I forced a smile, but quickly started sweating and my mouth twisted, unsure whether I was laughing or crying.

Now, the next problem was how to make the Thunderbird fly.

"Brother Bird, can you, um...fly a little?"

"......"

"Um..."

The Thunderbird cleverly moved its head and walked with me on its back, clearing a path through the crowd. But it still showed no intention of taking off, as if it was flaunting the unfortunate person shaking on its back.

At this point, it was becoming difficult for me to maintain my posture. I was essentially "hanging" on the Thunderbird's back using the strength of my arms. In another thirty seconds, without the Thunderbird making any movements, I would have fallen off on my own.

"Ga!"

Suddenly, the Thunderbird spread its wings, accompanied by a mournful cry. Its massive wings blocked my view, but I clenched my teeth and held on, fearing but also hoping for something.

I closed my eyes, feeling the Thunderbird's feathers piercing through my pants and scraping against my thighs and abdomen. Faintly, the strength in my hands transferred into gravity throughout my body, and the noise of the people disappeared. A tremendous force suddenly struck my chest - that's right, the Thunderbird was starting to take off. The sound of the hard snow grains blowing away could be heard under the wings of the Thunderbird, and some snowflakes melted on my face, prompting me to open my right eye.

Fear of heights is psychological, and instinctively, I avoided looking at the ground, even though I couldn't see it at all.

We had long surpassed the height of the treetops, and the voices of the people grew distant, but I still heard everyone shouting "Seneharrira" in unison.

One hundred meters? Two hundred meters? The height no longer mattered.

The Thunderbird's speed might not compare to an airplane, but I was just an unequipped test pilot. Every swing of its massive wings felt like it was squeezing my heart into my throat. I was excited, yet also terrified to the extreme, because the Thunderbird was not a plane. It was not under my control, and if it decided to make a sudden dive, there was no doubt I would be thrown off and crushed into a mess of flesh.

Once cold air possesses the attribute of high speed, it becomes ferocious. The feeling of not being able to breathe while riding a roller coaster was perfectly recreated. My right eyelid trembled incessantly, and my heart raced as fast as the speed.

Ideals are grand, but reality is brutal. It seemed that my plan to observe the battlefield while riding the Thunderbird had to be abandoned.

I weakly chose to close my eyes again, burying my face in the feathers on the Thunderbird's back to allow for slightly better breathing.

...

When I opened my eyes again, the Thunderbird had landed in its nest, a protruding platform at the peak of Mount Grey. It gently rocked its back, signaling for me to get off.

Stomping on my numb feet, I witnessed the most magnificent sight of my life.

The vast white Southern Plains, with trees stretching as far as the eye could see. The spires of the Palace in Kingdom Inslay looked like a 0.5mm automatic pencil lead. The werewolf villages were small black spots in the white ocean. I tried to find our little home on the opposite Mountain Dotch, but apart from the snow-covered rocks, I couldn't see anything.

The thunderbird cleared the accumulated snow in the thatched grass nest and quietly stared at me with its eagle-like eyes.

Although my ears may be frozen, a surge of hot blood suddenly welled up within me, an indescribable mix of emotions including the beauty of mountains and rivers, the sense of accomplishment from being above it all, the desire for conquest.

Once just an insignificant person among seven billion beings, there were times when I could look down upon the world.

Even though my true "world" may only be a Medusa.

"I rule over the vast universe, let the surging waves rise because of me!" Ignoring the risks of an avalanche, I shouted with unrestrained vigor.

Haha, it sounded like a true story (laughs).