The rolling hills have gentle lines, and among the weeds that are beginning to wither, the pale purple and yellow flowers are dotted and still blooming tenaciously. The autumn breeze is cool, and the scenery between the fields is quiet and beautiful, almost forgetting the burned wheat field behind him, but Ed has no intention of appreciating it.

He followed the halfling up to a simple but sturdy wooden bridge between the streams, and inexplicably stumbled.

Iss grabbed him by the collar and pulled him up, frowning impatiently, "Is it necessary to be so excited?"

Ed smiled wryly, not daring to tell him that he had tripped over his foot not because of excitement, but because he was distracted. His mind was trying to process at the same time what he was seeing in front of him in two different frames, and what the other pair of "eyes" were seeing in the north...... Of course, he was a little excited.

The human who taught Wigg the lingua franca had died a few years ago, as Wigg described...... It was a pastor.

Priest of the water goddess Nyo.

Murukoto, the name Ed had never heard of at all. But there are thousands of priests of the water god in the entire Eastern Continent, and he actually doesn't even recognize all the people in the Collins Temple and the Ston Butch Temple...... It was only after the Temple of Collins was shrouded in fog that he remembered the names of every priest and paladin there.

Wig didn't know exactly why Muru was here. When he appeared in the halfling town where Kasha and the others were heading more than twenty years ago, the thin, middle-aged man was tired and sick, wandering aimlessly, oblivious to the nervous and curious gaze around him. Halflings are kind and hospitable, but they are always wary of strangers, after all, although they are fast, they are really not capable of fighting......

So, Wigg, who was a guest at his cousin's house in town at the time, volunteered to "host" the strange outsider, just as he had come to receive Ed and the Ice Dragon today.

But they don't speak the language.

Muru had apparently lost the ability to cast spells. He can't be like Ed, who simply uses a clever trick to solve the problem. Whether Wigg was talking or gesturing, he just stared blankly at the halfling and didn't give a response.

Depressed, Wigg ran to the drinking fountain in the square and drank a stomach of water...... Then he borrowed a wooden cup and brought one to Muru.

"And then he cried!"

To this day, the halfling remembers the shock of being at a loss. So a big guy, not as strong as the beef man but almost as tall, is already quite intimidating to them...... Crying like a child who has lost his way and can't find his way home.

After that, Muru built a shed for himself by the stream outside the town, and tried to live like a halfling, cultivating fields and growing vegetables...... There was even a flock of ducklings.

"He's obviously never done that. Wig shook his head and recalled the disastrous gains.

For several years, it was Wigg who would often run to bring him food and seeds and teach him how to grow pumpkins. Muru began to learn the language of the halfling from him, and in exchange, began to teach him the lingua franca as well.

"I thought I wouldn't need it for the rest of my life!" Wigg sighed, "If you come a few years later, I'll probably forget about it!"

Ed couldn't help but smile. For a halfling who doesn't really like to travel far, Wig should have known from the beginning that although it is an ancient hometown, it is already the language of another continent far away, and most of them are not used...... He didn't learn it out of curiosity or liking, but because it was the only thing Muru could "exchange" with him.

Just like the glass of water brought to a stranger, there is kindness in the words and deeds of the halfling almost without thinking, and there is also a more commendable, natural thoughtfulness and respect.

He does not see his good deeds as a favor.

"I think I'm in love with halflings!" Ed whispered to his friend, "they're so cute!"

"Hmm. Isis nodded absentmindedly, "It's cute." ”

He could now touch the curly hair of the halfling, which looked so nice to touch, as soon as he reached out...... But of course he can't touch it! Even if he becomes human, it can't destroy his calm and majestic image!

And, more importantly...... He doesn't want to be Tess!

"Look! there it is!"

Wig's ears twitched and he screamed. In the direction he pointed, it was a wooden house with a small courtyard that combined the styles of humans and halflings, and unlike the halflings' houses, which dug holes directly into the hillside, but retained the soft lines that blended in with the hills, and even the doors were unnecessarily made into the circle that halflings loved.

"This is the house that everyone built for him. Wigg said, "What's he left behind is still in there." ”

Even after nearly twenty years here, from mid-age to old age and death, Muru did not finally become one with the world like his house. He had always been an outsider, and spent most of his time alone in his room, silently filling one piece of paper after another, filling three large wooden boxes.

And when he died, he asked Wigg to scatter his ashes in the stream, leaving nothing behind.

"That's not good. ”

When he pushed the door, Weig was still sighing, "My grandfather said that only when you fall to the ground can you take root, and only when you bury it in the soil can you get peace, although most of it is only the heart of future generations." But then I thought, his home is so far away...... Maybe only water can take him back. ”

Ed only stopped at the edge of the stream. He felt that the pastor's soul was probably no longer here.

When the wooden box of paper is opened, it does not have much stale smell, but has a slightly pungent fragrance of a certain plant. Inside stacks and stacks are neatly arranged.

"I think he's hoping that somebody will see this one day. "Even though he said he left it here...... It doesn't matter if you even burn it. But isn't what is written on paper written in order to be shown to others?"

Ed nodded gratefully to him, took out a stack of papers that had been simply bound together with a leather string, and did not even have a cover, and carefully flipped through them.

The paper is yellowed but not rough, and the handwriting on it is still clear and powerful. Unsurprisingly, Muru left behind only extremely fragmentary diaries, which is a habit that most priests and mages have. They need to jot down every bit of their insight, or the details of each experiment. All the fragments that pass by in my mind may be of unexpected use at some point.

In fact, some words are not written down for people to see...... But it doesn't make it any less valuable.

Ed found the earliest one. The first line left by the pastor is full of endless hesitation:

"I've almost forgotten how to pray...... I didn't know exactly how to move forward. ”