"The fruits on the tree... are meat!"

Lea's voice remained melodious and sweet, but when her exclamation echoed through the silent forest, Moen felt the warm sunlight filtering through the gaps between the leaves suddenly grow colder.

"Meat... Could it be..."

Images of certain sanity-draining works from his previous life resurfaced in Moen's mind. Meat growing on trees? Could it possibly be...

"Human?"

"No, no, no, it's just ordinary meat, mutton!"

Lea shook her head frantically, evidently frightened by Moen's assumption.

At that moment, Moen caught the scent wafting in the air, a pungent odor mingled with the metallic tang of blood.

It did seem like it was just mutton.

But still, how could even mutton grow on a tree?

And then there was the river ahead, flowing with milk.

"It's not just mutton. On different trees, I found different types of fruits. When you cut them open, they reveal pork, beef, and other kinds of meat. There's a wide variety. Oh, and there's this..."

Lea produced a plant resembling a pitcher plant. Tilting its opening slightly, a sticky, pale-yellow liquid began to trickle out.

"This here is honey, pure natural honey!"

"Honey?"

Moen murmured instinctively.

"Meat growing on trees... A river full of milk... And honey everywhere..."

Wait—why did this sound vaguely familiar?

Moen suddenly snapped to attention.

**[A land flowing with milk and honey, fields growing pork and lamb, a utopia free of hunger and suffering...]**

"Those ancient scriptures—they weren't just exaggerated poetic descriptions; they were actual depictions?"

Moen was shocked.

The scene before him perfectly matched the illustrations he had once seen in the pamphlets distributed by the Church. The descriptions in those ancient texts spoke of the legendary "The Lost Land," the fabled Golden Nation.

But previously, Moen had thought it was mere romanticized rhetoric.

After all, humanity's tendency to mythologize and embellish the unknown was an inherent trait.

Yet, never in his wildest dreams did he imagine it could actually be true.

This goes beyond logic...

But wait—does logic even hold any weight in a world where girls can have children through magic?

He’d already heard of the power and miracles of **ancient magic**; maybe this was due to some kind of spell...

"Just to be safe, let me ask..."

Moen rubbed his chin and turned to Lea, a solemn expression on his face.

"If this were the power of a goddess, could such a thing be possible?"

"A goddess..."

Lea glanced at the still-dripping fruit in her hand, contemplating for a moment before nodding emphatically.

"If it's Goddess, then yes, absolutely."

"After all, humanity has grown to this point, with such vast populations, largely thanks to Her grace!"

"Is that so?"

Moen raised his eyebrows, both surprised and skeptical.

Even Moen, who didn't follow the Life Church, had heard of how it had once developed and improved high-yield crops, saving innumerable lives and precipitating the population explosion on the continent a century ago.

He had thought it a feat of magic. Could it truly have been the goddess's blessing?

—A goddess bearing the name "Life"; it did make logical sense.

Though, even so, no divine blessing could entirely eliminate hunger from the world.

Moen recalled this past winter in Belland. Though the newly appointed governor of the Lower City District, assisted by the Duke's estate and the royal factions, had managed numerous programs, there were still people who starved to death during that long season.

Compared to previous years, the numbers had greatly decreased.

But on the bright side, Ariel could eat free black bread thanks to these efforts.

"Wait... No hunger..."

Moen remembered the latter part of those ancient texts:

"Could it be that this Canterwell was the work of devout followers of the goddess? That they truly harnessed Her blessing to create a land completely free of hunger?"

That would explain the absence of any traces of farmland.

A place overflowing with luscious food—why would anyone need to cultivate crops?

"Hmm... perhaps. But to alter life's structure to this extreme through divine grace—it would require an immense amount of faith," Lea said, adorably furrowing her brows in deep thought.

Suddenly, her eyes lit up. She turned sharply toward the distance.

"That barrier!"

"Barrier?"

"Yes—if the goddess's blessing were applied to just a designated area, the faith required might not be as immense as we'd imagined."

"So... that's the reason for Canterwell's self-isolation?"

Moen immediately grasped her point.

Transforming an entire nation and altering the fabric of a whole world were vastly different endeavors.

To modify the global status quo to resemble this place—even the goddess of life would need to intervene personally, which was nearly impossible.

But if it were merely a group of devotees banding together, channeling the goddess's divine power to create an isolated haven—a paradise flowing with food, untouched by hunger and strife, extolled as the Golden Nation—then... as Lea suggested, it might indeed be feasible.

Perhaps this is the origin of Canterwell.

"A utopia free of hunger and pain..."

Moen gazed upward at the azure sky.

The sky was clear and translucent, nothing like the enclosed, subterranean ruins. The clouds drifted, white and shapeshifting.

Though there was no sun, gentle light filtered through the leaves. Breezes blew, refreshing and serene.

Everything resembled the idyllic impression Moen had upon entering this place...

So beautiful.

...

But.

Could there truly be a place so perfect?

If everything followed this ideal scenario, why was this village abandoned and its Golden Nation buried underground, renamed as The Lost Land?

"Mystery upon mystery, huh..."

Moen rubbed his temples in frustration.

Still, at least having a plausible explanation brought him a certain amount of comfort.

Otherwise, the bizarre sight of milk rivers and meat trees might have made him suspect he'd unwittingly stepped into a snafu concocted by some dark god.

He wouldn't be surprised if one suddenly materialized from some inexplicable corner to give him a "loving embrace."

Honestly, he’d had enough of such nonsense and didn’t want any more surprises.

"Moen, what’s the plan now?"

Seeing Moen lost in thought, Lea suddenly spoke up.

"Oh, sorry. Got distracted thinking. Anyway, let’s survey the area first and then move forward. As for this stuff, it's better not to eat it..."

"That's not what I meant."

"Huh?"

"I mean..."

The fruit-shaped meat and pitcher plant filled with honey had somehow been discarded. Lea was twisting her fingers shyly, her cheeks tinged pink as she looked at Moen.

"The river now is completely made of milk, right? You won’t be able to wash yourself..."

"..."

Moen froze, scratching his head.

Oh, right—he couldn’t clean himself up now. So, what was he supposed to do?

"It's, uh... fine."

Lea’s hands gleamed with a holy light—an extravagant glow purging all filth. Her cheeks reddened as she slowly approached.

"Moen, don’t move. Leave it to me. I’ll help you!"