The midday light washed over the glass skybridge as the strike team assembled in the sheltered alcove beside the Library entrance.
"Look at the greenhouse production summary on this ledger," the dark-haired striker noted, glancing over the botanical specialist's shoulder.
"Three hundred bundles of silverleaf herbs and fifty stalks of marrow roots harvested in less than forty-eight hours."
"Our botanical team accelerated the soil regeneration by channeling subterranean mana into the irrigation channels," Emilia explained, her eyes shining with professional pride.
"Every seedling we planted in the biology wing is yielding pure alchemical grade foliage."
"That gives our medical ward an independent supply of burn salves and vitality tonics," the First Player observed, reviewing the cataloged rows.
"We no longer depend on scavenged pharmacy supplies from the infected city streets."
