The holy beams of light illuminating countless tiny dust particles gently fell from the dome of the hall; the splendid stained glass windows, depicting the image of the Saint, refracted mottled brilliance in the air.
The Priest, dressed in a judge-like robe, stood on the altar.
His eyes were lowered, and his lips moved silently.
The golden Sun Sacred Emblem hanging from the crimson silk on his chest glimmered faintly in the sunlight.
"Sir, the negative energy within that merchant has dissipated."
Below the steps, a nun dressed equally solemnly reported softly.
The Priest slowly opened his eyes, his benevolent and kind face showing no sign of turmoil.
He gently lifted his head, and in his aged and serene pupils, the figure of the Lord he devoutly worshipped reflected off the stained glass window.
The words, steady and without inflection, echoed softly in the vast hall.
The nun’s gentle footsteps disappeared at the end of the side corridor.
The air seemed to return to silence.
A cough, filled with the staleness of decay, suddenly echoed in the church.
In the overlapping junction where the magnificent colonnades met the bright light, the only patch of shadow in the entire hall was shrouded.
A thin, elderly figure struggled to rise from the cold bench.
On his cheek, filled with wrinkles and age spots like rough tree bark, was a peculiar smile.
The pale, lifeless lips gently parted, a hoarse, hushed voice resonated in the air.
"The merciful and great Lord spreads light upon the world, the holy rules cannot be trampled, order must be followed."
An ambiguous laugh, both grating and piercing, arose.
The old man, with his one remaining cloudy eye, gazed at the gentle Priest sheltered by the Holy Light on the altar.
His gaze was only filled with sarcasm.
Three days later, River Valley Town.
White Sparrow Tavern.
The roaring fireplace flames, clinking and rising jugs, and the aroma of food amidst the bustling people...
Everything seemed just like before.
"Friends!" The caravan captain, Jeff, gripped a wooden cup, the liquid inside gleaming, cleared his throat.
"I remember when I first came to River Valley Town, I was just a green kid who hadn’t even touched a woman’s hand. Dreamed of becoming a famous adventurer, then returning to my hometown with enough Gold Coins to fill a whole warehouse, eating white bread every meal, and occasionally drinking some meat soup."
"Alas, on my first quest, I got so scared by those three goblins, not even as big as stray dogs, that I wet my pants."
Laughter filled the tavern in good spirits.
Jeff, supporting himself with a wooden crutch, his face flushed red from the drink.
"Over the years, I’ve led my caravan far and wide, faced dangers likely not as many as you, but not few either, some trips nearly cost my life."
"Every time I came back, sitting here, I’d tell myself, this is the last one, I’ll retire after making another sum."
"But every time I couldn’t resist, one more trip, then another... After all, who can say no to the enticing lure of Gold Coins?"
"But this time is different."
Seemingly too drunk, Jeff wavered slightly.
Below where his left leg was severed at the knee, the makeshift prosthetic struck the floor, making a wooden clunk sound.
"Your good old Jeff, after today, is officially retired."
"All of us folks who live with our heads tied to our belts, I won’t say anything downbeat."
"May everyone here earn enough Gold Coins to fill a whole warehouse!"
The already lively tavern exploded with even more excitement for a moment.
Though Jeff was not an adventurer, he was kind-hearted and often hired adventurers from the Association for guard duties.
Over the years, he had a bit of a reputation among the Low level adventurers.
Seeing him able to retire in such a state, even if some held grudges in their hearts, they kept a display of basic decency on the surface.
No unpleasant incidents occurred.
Xia Nan sat in the corner of the tavern, with a half-finished bowl of cream mushroom soup in front of him and an already eaten stew next to it.
As he thought back on the encounters from the previous days, he couldn’t help but feel puzzled.
After nailing Ingram to the tree that day, he actually didn’t intend to return to Kalanfor, planning to run away directly.
After all, the sheriff and the Priest in the Sun God Church, who seemed to be a professional, were closely related. If the Priest’s influence was behind their actions, returning there would undoubtedly be a death sentence.