Pillar of Yita

The little girl was none other than the one they had recently rescued from the Judgement Ground.

Xiangzi’s eyes revealed a suspicious look, while a trace of panic flashed across the little girl’s face. The next moment, she promptly took hold of her basket and turned to escape. Yet, she seemed to have forgotten the steps behind the bread workshop; as she retreated, she tripped on them, losing her Balance while turning, her slender body leaning backward, and she fell back along with the bread in the basket.

However, at that moment, time seemed to freeze. Xiangzi raised his right hand, and the little girl, along with her basket and the black bread flying out of it, halted in midair.

”Womadallas—” the young man recited a Spell, and under the constraint of an invisible Strength, the bread in the air returned to the basket, which then returned to the girl’s hand, pulling her back from her unbalanced state.

Xiangzi then snapped his fingers lightly, and time seemed to ’resume’ from its stagnation. The little girl took several cautious steps backward with the basket, barely standing firm.

The little girl’s somewhat thin shoulders were tense, and she looked around anxiously before raising her head to stare at the youth before her, whose body was wrapped entirely. Her dirty face sported a pair of exceptionally clear, large eyes that blinked once, then displayed a hint of panic and unease.

She cautiously retreated, keeping her eyes fixed on Xiangzi as she backed away. Seeing Xiangzi make no further movements, she quickly turned and escaped into the alley like a frightened small animal, disappearing without a trace within moments.

Xiangzi stared silently in that direction, remaining motionless. After a long while, he slowly lowered his hand.

”Holy Chooser?”

Accompanied by the sound of a Door opening, a slightly rough voice rang out behind him.

Xiangzi turned back, seeing a tall man emerging from the shop the little girl exited, standing by the Door, scrutinizing him.

The man had a scar stretching from his right brow to his left chin, crossing his right eye and nose. Despite his calm expression and frost-touched temples, he appeared more like a retired warrior leaving the battlefield, rather than menacing or fearsome.

His gaze was deep, but his right eye was somewhat vacant, evidently due to injury.

Seeing Xiangzi staring at him blankly, the man queried again: ”I’m asking you, are you the Holy Chooser?”

Xiangzi shook his head, answering truthfully: ”No, I’m an assassin.”

”An assassin?” The man was taken aback, chuckling in disbelief. He shook his head: ”You’re an assassin, is that possible? Well then, Mr. Assassin, do you have any work?”

Xiangzi replied: ”I have no time.”

The man scrutinized Xiangzi from head to toe, his gaze landing from his waist Sword to his Magic Guided Gloves. He suddenly spoke: ”Nice gloves, who gave them to you?”

Xiangzi glanced at his Sword and then at his Gloves, raising his head, displaying a hint of confusion in the eye visible, as if asking: What business is it of yours?

The man chuckled softly, uninterested, merely responding: ”Compared to your Gloves, your Sword doesn’t match them. Among the Magic Swordsmen I’ve seen, none are as peculiar as you.”

Xiangzi unsheathed his Sword and showed it in front of him, appearing somewhat indignant. This Magic Guided Sword, retrieved from a sinking ship, had been in use ever since, without any issues, and was arguably the best Sword he’d ever wielded.

The man shook his head at the Sword: ”Just scrap metal.”

Xiangzi raised the Sword to him, signifying that the quality of the Sword could only be judged by testing it.

But the man didn’t even glance at the gleaming Sword tip, his gaze just bypassed the blade, looking at him, saying: ”Interesting little fellow, what’s your name?”

Xiangzi looked eager to answer, but suddenly remembered the Captain advised them to conceal their identities, so he hastily changed his mind and replied: ”I’m Adrian Box.”

The man was taken aback, thinking what a strange name that was. Nevertheless, Holy Choosers’ names were mostly peculiar, not surprising. However, the name felt oddly familiar to him; he pondered momentarily and shook his head, wondering why he was dwelling on it.

He snapped back, speaking: ”Strange name. Wait for me here.”

With this, the man didn’t say more or glance at his Sword again, merely turning to open the Door and entering the premises.

Xiangzi stood somewhat baffled, but deliberated while standing still, eventually sheathing his Sword. If he couldn’t understand something, he chose not to dwell on it; previously, when he asked Stargate and Lonely White Field about the meaning of things, they provided the same answer. This method seemed very effective.

At this moment, a Papalar emerged, carrying a large sack of bread from the opposite side, waved excitedly in his direction: ”Come on, I’ve taken care of my business, let’s find a place to eat.”

Xiangzi pondered briefly and promptly cast aside thoughts of the previous affairs, nodding in agreement.

As the man exited with a wooden box, the thick snow on the square displayed only two lines of footprints. He paused, looked around, shook his head, glanced at the box in his hand, then bent to place it on the ground before turning back inside.