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The silver-haired Roderick found that the mysterious woman had appeared for seven days in a row, her dress was plain and monotonous, but the scent on her body was completely different for seven days, sometimes it smelled of lilacs, sometimes it smelled of roses, but just when he became curious about this strange woman, the woman never appeared again, as if she had never been to the church.

"Almighty God, has the power of my faith wavered?" The silver-haired Roderick knelt alone in the prayer room, a small room of only about ten square meters, with nothing but a small altar and kneeling mat, Roderick knelt on the mat, his hands clasped together, praying to the ethereal and omnipotent deity on the altar.

Far north, another group of people prayed to another deity, a northern people living in dense forests, and although their way of praying was different from that of the southerners, more primitive and bloody, the impetus that prompted them to pray was to survive.

"Woolf, what are we gathered here for?" The White Knight was wearing a northerner's animal skin coat at this time, and looked almost indistinguishable from the northerner except for that handsome face.

"Shhhhhhh Woolf led the White Knights, and they followed the flow of people into the depths of the forest.

"Festivals?" The White Knight frowned, he had been woken up by Woolf early in the morning, and he hadn't even had time to eat an egg for breakfast.

"Yes, we are praying for this year's harvest, which is the most important ritual of the year." Woolf said to the White Knight.

"I see." The White Knights were thoughtful, but in fact this kind of celebration existed in every farming people, the southerners called it the autumn festival, the priests would bring holy water to the fields in the hope of bringing a good harvest to the farmers under the light of the main god, and then there was an open-air feast of feasting and drinking, and people drank inferior malt wine while dancing merrily, from the morning until the sun rose the next day.

"Here we are." Woolf pointed to the depths of the forest, under a stout tree the size of dozens of people hugging each other, the tree's lush foliage like an umbrella, almost obscuring the sky overhead, and under the tree were a dozen large flat stones.

"My people, the annual festival begins, and with a humble heart, may the Father of the Great Mysteries bring us a bountiful harvest." The Count of Gülen was dressed in a white sable coat with a gold pendant around his neck, while beside him was a beautiful aristocratic lady in a sky blue velvet dress with an emerald pendant around her neck.

"The father of mysteries is great, great." The villagers cheered, and they raised their hands in reverence for the Father of Mysteries.

"The Father of Mysteries." The White Knight silently recited the name, the Father of Mysteries is one of the three main gods believed in by the northerners, the god of creation of the northerners, they believe that the world is a huge tree, and the whole world is just one of the seven branches, and the Father of Mysteries is the first god to obtain the mysterious vitality of this world tree, and when he gains power, a hole like a woman's privacy appears in the world tree.

The lonely Father of Mysteries inserted his doppelganger into the cave, and after a moment of friction, poured his essence into the World Tree, causing the world to appear on the seven branches and leaves of the World Tree, and the next day, the God of War was the first to jump out of the hole.

"Be careful, Count, although he hasn't found fault with us now, it doesn't mean that he won't." Woolf whispered in the White Knight's ear.

"I know." The White Knight retracted his thoughts, and at that moment he felt a burning gaze that crossed the gap in the crowd and fell on him, and in curiosity he also looked back, and the owner of the gaze was the woman beside the Count, that is, the Countess.

When the Countess noticed that the White Knight was also looking at her, she did not wince, but raised the corners of her mouth, staring at him with the blue eyes of the northerner as clear as the bottom of a lake, and the White Knight remembered Woolf's reminder and quickly looked to the other side.

At this moment, he saw a young man and woman coming from the other end of the crowd, several women and men surrounded them, this pair of young men and women were very beautifully dressed, the young man had a hairy golden beard under his lips, he looked to be in his twenties, he was wearing a delicately embroidered shirt, an otter skin cloak on his shoulders, and a belt around his waist was covered with turquoise, he held his head high like a young nobleman.

The girl beside the young man wore a white gauze trimmed turban on her head, and her blonde hair was strung down her shoulders in several small braids, and the clothes on her body were equally expensive and delicate, but the girl was in tears, and sobbed from time to time.

"Our guests have arrived." Count Gülen's face was ruddy, and he seemed to be very happy, and he raised his hand in a loud proclamation, and the others shouted loudly, and they sprinkled their petals on the body and feet of the young man and woman.

"It turned out to be a guest to greet you!" The white knight suddenly realized that these two young men and women must be very distinguished guests, perhaps a priest or something.

The young man and woman were seated in front of the stones under the tree, and the Count and his wife stood beside them like humble servants, and the villagers brought all sorts of delicious food and sweet mead, and the whole slate was soon filled.

"Uh-huh." The young man, under the constant persuasion of the Earl and the Lady of Gülen, reached out and grabbed the food, while the Countess of Gülen brought the mead to his lips and made him and the maiden drink it without stopping.

"Woohoo." The girl wept and cried, and did not move any food except for drinking, which made the White Knight very strange.

"Okay Koko, you can go back, here's the event that only we northerners can attend." Woolf suddenly said to the curious white knight beside him.

"But." The White Knight couldn't understand why the reactions of the two who came were so different, one of them was eating and drinking, and the other was crying.

"Leave." Woolf said to the White Knight in an unquestioning tone, and this was the first time he had such an attitude towards the White Knight in this way.

The white knight had no choice but to reluctantly leave, he frowned at the crying girl as he walked, and suddenly had an ominous premonition in his heart, but he had never participated in the festival of the northerners, and he had no idea what would happen next.

"Why don't I sneak a peek at it, it's a fun experience." The white knight turned around and walked for a while, when suddenly he stopped and said to himself.

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