Pillar of Yita

The gentleman turned back somewhat amused, ”Why can you only say that sentence?”

”It’s the truth,” the latter replied, ”Xiaoyu was supposed to have an excellent team, and just being excellent isn’t enough.”

”But I think it’s not too bad.”

”Wrong or not, you’ll have to see to know.”

”You’re too strict.”

”Being strict is better than misjudging someone.”

The gentleman shook his head and couldn’t help but sigh lightly.

...

Fang Hong allocated everyone’s tasks but first gave them half a day off, allowing everyone time to freely move about.

They had traveled all the way from Galeite to this place, spending most of their time in the wild under harsh weather conditions, braving the elements. Without saying everyone was exhausted, most were indeed weary.

As they entered the town, they first found a place to stay, intended to rest well, enjoy a long hot bath to warm up, and then have some good food to reward themselves. But unexpectedly, upon arriving in Grey Owl Town, they encountered so many things that they hadn’t had any downtime until now.

Moreover, the town was scarce in supplies, and the anticipated feast turned into barely edible food. The hot bath seemed out of reach too, but regardless, rest was an essential need. Even for procuring supplies, they’d have to wait until they were refreshed.

Fang Hong distributed the keys and told everyone they could move around freely during this period but must return to report by 8 PM. At the same time, he repeatedly instructed Xiangzi to keep an eye on the Papalarians, insisting that they must not cause trouble.

After the previous encounters, Fang Hong wasn’t so trusting of the local law enforcement. Shadow People aside, there had to be Dragon Worshippers stirring up trouble behind the scenes—this had almost become a rule: a place seeming peaceful on the surface could have Cultists plotting something sinister behind the scenes—especially in the chaotic Northern Territory where evil ran rampant?

And the Crow’s Claw Sanctuary also seemed untrustworthy; though it might not necessarily have ties with the Dark Followers, there might be other schemes involved. At least before understanding the situation, he would not easily get involved in related troubles.

Undoubtedly, Fang Hong was foresighted.

While most were exhausted and needed a good rest, there was always a type of people who seemed to possess endless energy. The Papalarians were undoubtedly among them, even having it as a racial talent—not easily fatigued, which starkly contrasted the stronger learning ability talents of humans.

This was a true racial talent, not the type some claimed. But it also had a downside, namely a voracious appetite, one even Miss Mei couldn’t escape. In Sanxiak, Papalarians had five meals a day, not just rumors.

Anyway, after eating their fill, the Papalarians couldn’t stay and dashed out, taking along a stoic robot—strangely, though human, seemed equally tireless, like the young Magic Guided Conductor.

The two claimed they were going ’intelligence gathering’—but in reality, were just wandering the streets and getting into mischief.

Saint Olinnus Square—

Parker was stooping, picking up a pebble, and tossing it far away, muttering complaints, ”I think he is a bit prejudiced against Papalarians. Everyone knows Papalarians are models of the law-abiding; in Sanxiak, every Papalarian is courteous, friendly to neighbors, and wouldn’t easily stir up trouble; this is blatant slander, stereotypes. Even if I occasionally sneak some food or help you store little items, it’s not of my free will—it’s just an instinct, you know—I am a believer of the God of Debauchery, you understand?”

The young Magic Guided Conductor, hiding himself thoroughly with a pointed Wizard Hat and a high-collared coat, leaving only one eye exposed, withdrew his gaze from the thrushes on the statue’s shoulder on the square and slowly nodded.

”I knew you’d understand,”

Parker said somewhat happily.

He patted the snowflakes off his hands and said, ”Wait here for me, I’m going to do something and will be right back.”

Xiangzi watched the sneaky guy, thought for a moment, and nodded.

”Ha,” Parker said loudly, ”I knew you were my best buddy!”

”But the Captain told us not to cause trouble.”

”Don’t worry, I never cause trouble,” the Papalarian thumped his chest so hard it shook the air, ”I’m just going to do what a Papalarian should do... by the way, do you have any money?”

Xiangzi nodded, took out a few silver coins from the left pocket, then a few more from the right bag, and handed them over. Most of the Seven Seas Travel Group’s assets were communal, but everyone could still receive a ’salary’ each month.

”Good brother,” Parker said, delighted, ”later I’ll treat you to snacks.”

With his little stubby hands, he stuffed the money into his pocket, patted his belly, and swaggered towards a nearby bakery.

Xiangzi was long accustomed to such scenes and didn’t find it inappropriate; his equipment was either won from battles or made by Fang Hong, so he didn’t usually need money.

He only somewhat idly looked to the side.

Grey Owl Town had two squares; they had already visited the other one, which was the town’s center. And this square seemed discovered unexpectedly as they crossed into a shadowy alley.

Compared to the bustling parts of the town, this seemed more like a scene emerging from an old photo. On one side, a narrow alley with dark stone walls, and on the other, a gray square with a tall, ruined sanctuary, cold stone statues embracing a chilly mysterious style.

This was perhaps related to Grey Owl Town’s long history, surrounding it the low stone wall built several centuries ago, traversing a river through the town—shaping the town’s distinguished historical image.

Though merely a small place, it was actually founded earlier than Gula Port. A series of ancient streets crossed the town, narrow lanes strewn about, seeming desolate in winter, yet to this day several thousand people resided in this area.

Xiangzi casually glanced at the sign hanging at the entrance of the square, written in local script with the square’s name. He found the name vaguely familiar but didn’t know Orlinus was a Vassal God, a Saint of Milaila, who perished at the Battle of Aithelin.

As he was lost in thought, not far away, a bakery opened its doors, and a short figure came out from inside.

The short, thin figure looked at him, suddenly standing still in surprise.

Xiangzi hesitated slightly, glancing unexpectedly at the little girl clutching a basket of black bread, staring dumbfoundedly at him.

...