The fine white petals bloom in the steaming water, and the pleasant aroma fills the nose.

Kormit stared at the unknown flower in the cup, looked up at the non-human face in front of him, hesitated for a moment, and finally spit out unconsciously: "Thank you." ”

It was a strange situation—he wasn't sure if the oak-carved golem could understand the meaning, but it could even cast spells like a mage...... He'd never heard of anything like that before, and who knows how much else it could surprise him?

The simple lines were so simple that there was no expression on the wooden face that he didn't even have eyes, but the golem nodded slowly at him and turned away in an elegant posture.

Kormit looked down at the hot tea in his hand again, his mood a little complicated.

When he was forcibly teleported, he subconsciously thought that it was Copas who did it, and he was angry because of this, and when he noticed a strange face in front of him, his first action was to pick up the hammer and smash it without thinking...... The hammer left a white mark on the magically reinforced Wood Golem's face, and the ensuing counterattack burned Kormit's white robes, which he was presumably destined to have little to do.

If it weren't for the old mage with his nightcap who had stopped them, Kormit suspected that he would have died at the hands of a wood golem with a few green leaves on its head, and he was deeply aware that it would be a lack of consideration to surrender his life entirely to an irascible and headstrong ice dragon.

Calian ...... Isis gave him an amulet and told him to do what was necessary. He could teleport him to safety, and he did—if he could tell him in advance where that "safe place" was, who would he encounter. Or at least it would be better to inform the owner here...... But if he dared to complain to the ice dragon like that, the answer he would get would undoubtedly be a justified "you didn't ask".

- It's his fault, but the gods are above, and he just wants him to know that he trusts him...... Nothing more.

He was sure he wasn't sending any distress signals...... The dragon threw him here without saying a word, presumably because it was in trouble over there. He had politely inquired about Inglis Neff, the owner of the valley, the legendary archmage. Whether or not he could be sent back to the temple was rejected very outright.

All he could do now was to hold a cup of tea in a daze helplessly as the woman on the opposite chair who was too beautiful to look like a real person observed with interest.

In the refreshing aroma of tea. Kormit swallowed a sigh in silence. Realizing that his life is running in a completely unpredictable direction.

He probably should have thought of this when he tied himself to a dragon.

"How do you recognize it?"

The woman asked him curiously, propping her head.

“...... He saved my life. Kormit was careful to give the simplest answer.

The woman's face showed an expression that looked like regret and dissatisfaction, and her eyebrows, which were as black as a crow's feather, wrinkled into a beautiful arc.

"That's not what a dragon should do. "It's too human-like, it's not good." ”

Kurmet didn't know how to answer, so he continued to drink tea.

"It wasn't just a dragon. The old mage's voice came from the other side of the room, "Abby...... It's time for you to go back to your room. ”

The woman named Abby raised an eyebrow in displeasure. He glared coldly at the old mage, but finally snorted heavily. Jumping up and swaying to his room, he seemed to understand that there was no point in resisting.

Kormit continued to drink tea silently, but couldn't help but secretly speculate about the relationship between the two men...... and the relationship between them and the ice dragon.

The thin old man sat down tremblingly, and for a moment did not say anything, but looked at him with a smile, looking like nothing more than an ordinary, hospitable host, while Kormit was as stiff and unable to move as if he had been targeted by a petrified lizard.

The gods are above, this is Inglis-Neff...... Kormit remembers hearing many legends about him when he was a child...... And this "legend" is still alive.

"Is the tea good?" asked the old man in a lethargic, prolonged tone.

The question was too simple, and it took him a long time to wonder if it meant anything else, before he replied, apprehensively, "It smells good." ”

The old man nodded in satisfaction, but seemed a little sad.

"I can't smell it anymore. "I am not afraid of death...... But aging to death is not a pleasant process. ”

The topic was suddenly so heavy that Kormit could only choose to be silent cautiously.

"This is the first time the dragon has sent someone else here - it must have trusted you. The old man continued to speak slowly.

There was no connection between the two topics, and Kormit burned his tongue in surprise.

“...... I think he's more convinced...... You. He said respectfully, "He probably thinks that even if I have bad intentions, there is absolutely no chance of success." ”

The old man grinned, and the wrinkles on his face deepened.

"You're a priest. He said.

Another topic - Kormit felt that he was a little unable to keep up with the old mage's overly jumpy thinking.

He looked down at his chest, where the burnt white robe had been replaced...... Now, he doesn't have the Nesses logo on his chest.

But at the same time, he realized that he was still a pastor. He still had the power of God, even though not even a single Wood Golem could knock it down—simply because he wasn't strong enough.

Enoch and the two young priests who had taken him with him did not lose their strength...... So, which side of the god he believed in was a deviation from his guidance? Perhaps, they did not believe in a god at all?

This question has already haunted him more than once.

Kormit looked thoughtfully at the old man in front of him. It doesn't seem appropriate to ask a mage for an answer to such a question...... But perhaps he could somehow turn to the knowledge and wisdom of the legendary archmage.

“...... There is a form of sacrifice called a 'blood sacrifice', which I am sure you must have heard of. He spoke eagerly, not realizing that the topic was equally jumpy.

"I've heard about it and I've seen it with my own eyes. The smile on the old man's face deepened and he did not refuse to answer, "What do you want to know?".

As the sun shone into the valley, illuminating the dew on the spikes of the Farstar flower swaying in the wind, the huge ice dragon let out a muffled roar and landed on the grass.

The slight tremor of the ground made Kormit jump and look out the door with surprise and joy, but the old mage sat there peacefully.

"Leave it alone. "It's obviously not in a good mood, and when it goes out now, it's only going to be dizzy and squirted with saliva." Let Mulder meet it...... He didn't care about that anyway, he liked the dragon better than the acorn on top of his head, and he didn't have to bother to make him sprout if he knew it. ”

Kormit was silent in a daze, unable to tell for a moment how strange it was.

After chatting for half the night, the old man did not show any tiredness at the moment, but was full of energy, and even seemed to speak faster.

His golden-green eyes were unusually bright, washed with water, and even the lines radiating outwards under his eyes were as clear as the bloodshot whites of his eyes.

Kormit sat down slowly, a faint uneasiness in his heart.

He could hear the roar of the dragon outside the door—it was in a bad mood, so when he asked, "Has a guy in a white robe with a hammer been teleported here??" it sounded like he had a vendetta against him, ready to rush over and bite him in two.

He didn't know how the silent wooden golem would answer...... In sign language? It doesn't even have fingers!

"Don't complain to me!" the ice dragon growled angrily, "That old man didn't say he wasn't allowed to give it to anyone when he gave me the amulet!"

“......”

"Why did he hit you with a hammer?"

“......”

“...... Didn't smash a crack anyway, don't be so careful-wait, you can't already burn him, do you?!"

“......”

"Well, I don't think he'll do that in the future...... Hey, you really have an acorn on your head...... What are you going to do with it?"

The self-talking conversation made Kormit laugh unconsciously—he didn't expect to find such a side of a dragon, casual and natural, like a frank, unguarded child, as if the valley were its home.

"I made a promise. Inglis said abruptly, "If you can see...... I think I did. ”

Kormit looked at him in amazement. Of course, the "you" that the old man said did not refer to him...... And in his gradually distracting gaze, it was probably not him who he saw.

When the old man's shoulders collapsed and he slowly fell forward, Kormit instinctively rushed over to help him, and realized in horror that his bright eyes were unusually excited...... He had seen it from his own dying mother.

"Fuck off. ”

A voice lacking temperature sounded, and the priest, who was at a loss, looked back at the woman with black hair and white dress who appeared behind him silently, and watched as she took the old man into his arms in an almost gentle posture.

"Maybe I can ......," Kormit said hesitantly.

"What can you do?" the woman sneered at him, "he's not hurt, he's not sick...... He's just dying old, what can you do? Pray to your God?"

Kormit was silent—there really wasn't anything he could do.

Amid the heavy footsteps, a young man with blond hair and blue eyes appeared in the doorway, looking annoyed and flustered. Mudder was carried on his shoulders like a broken puppet, his long wooden legs dragging to the ground.

"What the hell?" he cried, "why would Muld suddenly—"

His gaze fell on the old mage, and his voice stopped abruptly.

(To be continued......)