Koop made his fourth attempt today to turn to look at Yin Feng, who was on the unshocked carriage and almost shook him off. The unhulled grains in the sack under his hips were a little squirky, preventing him from moving.

It wasn't that he was interested in the inexplicable little girl who appeared, but he could always feel a gaze cast from under the brim of the small cloak at the back of the car, observing himself from time to time.

When he looked back, it quickly vanished, leaning towards the dusty bushes and foliage around the road, observing the unchanged scenery along the way.

After the initial freshness of coming to a foreign land dissipated, the gray leaves and the similar hillsides began to bored people, and the winding roads were chaotic and directional, creating the illusion of going around in circles.

Since there were no animal-powered vehicles for carrying people, they spent a small amount of money in the river port, hitched a ride on two unloaded wagons carrying grain, and drove along a dirt road that looked like a naturally formed over-paved road to the so-called "gravel town".

This kind of cart pulled by a single mule and horse is only to meet the rigid needs of transportation, slow and cumbersome, and I don't know how long it will take to reach the destination.

The mental and physical journey was tiresome, and Koop wanted to shout out to see if the nasty valley wouldn't even give an echo, but Kraft sat in the same car, leaning on the bag and shaking it beside the driver, as a point of restraint.

Fortunately, the trip finally came to an end near noon. Turning another familiar bend, he heard Kraft's voice.

"Is that over there?"

"Yes." The coachman replied in a thick local accent, muffled and longer, like words swirling around his chest before finding an exit.

Coop tried to use the words he heard from Kraft, and the accent was related to living in a dusty place for a long time, damaging their delicate lungs, and their poor breathing affected them.

Jumping out of the carriage, the yellow dust was raised, and Koop pulled the collar of his burqa to cover his mouth and nose, and squinted his eyes to look ahead, and the mountain valley was indistinguishable from before, and the narrow flat ground that was swept away by the shrubs, and the human structure appeared before them.

Clav patted his black burqa and pulled him up and covered it with a hammer that hooked the fabric, "Pay attention to the image, no one likes an outsider who doesn't look friendly, especially this kind of ...... Village? ”

It may not be a good idea to call it a town, but it is a small complex of mud houses along the valley, and you can see the head at a glance, and there are at most thirty or forty households.

A few people who were as dusty as everything else here were waiting at the junction, curious to talk.

William and the three crew members followed from the latter carriage, but they did not seem so pleasant, and the natives glanced at them, went around to the other side of the carriage, and without saying a word, unloaded the bags of grain and left.

"They don't seem to be friendly?" William pressed to Kraft's ear, avoiding the coachman and muffling his voice.

"I don't know, take care of your people, I'm afraid of accidentally committing some taboos." Kraft thought about a large number of their outfits, all of them wearing cloaks, and couldn't see much difference, "Speaking of which, Yin Feng, you remember to follow us closely, don't get lost." ”

The girl hurried to follow, and as she passed by Koop, she noticed that she was holding in her hand a booklet made of rough paper from practice writing, which was tucked into the pocket of her cloak and hidden.

Yin Feng, who had been less present for two days, was a little more active, and Koop roughly guessed her thoughts, but didn't care. Anyway, he didn't even think about comparing himself with a child, and when he became literate, he concentrated on the development of force, preparing for the possibility of becoming a knight, and striving to implement the duty of guard as soon as possible.

Blowing the dust off his shoulders and straightening the hem of his burqa, he followed in Kraft's footsteps and headed into town.

In the middle of the low mud and stone house, a spire popped up at the foot of the hill on the edge of the town, and there was actually a small church in this small place.

The team, dismayed by the attitude of the locals, immediately decided to spend the night in the most familiar place in the place, at least the priest would believe in the set of things they knew, which belonged to the knowable way of thinking.

But it is indeed shabby, with a mosaic emblem made of heterochromatic stone embedded above a single door, marking the identity of the building, and the only thing that is commendable is the bonus of faith built by hand.

There were few dusty footprints in front of the door, and William was the first to push open the door and enter the main hall of the church.

Three chairs of poor craftsmanship are lined up, and the wooden emblem hangs in the center of the wall, and the patent leather is mottled and peeling. The wood is fairly smooth and can be wiped often, making it the cleanest thing here, but it doesn't resist the erosion of weather and time.

The man in a yellow-and-white robe sat on one of the chairs with his back to them, his hair scattered.

Kraft walked around to him only to find that the robe was embroidered with winged rings, a robe that lacked cleaning and discoloration.

If you only put three chairs, do you still have one? The churches here don't seem to be very well mixed, and it's clear that in the middle of nowhere, it's easier for the church to take root.

"Father, are you awake?" William shook his shoulder.

"Peter, let me sleep again." He wiped away his sleepy eyes, stretched his waist, and suddenly realized that it was a new face, "Ah! Welcome, believers of the Lord. ”

The priest gave up his chair and invited the visitors to sit down, his eyes lingering on their chests, and the winged ring amulets that seafarers habitually hung made him recognize "his own people", "There are not often outsiders here. ”

"Indeed, it's great to find a fellow churchmate, and there's hardly any news about it outside." William pulled a chair and sat down, immediately regretting it. When he entered the church, he habitually took off his outer robe, and the dry touch told him that this chair was not much cleaner than the outer layer of the burqa after a long journey.

"We want to spend the night under the protection of our Heavenly Father."

"I have no reason to refuse, as long as you don't mind the humble conditions here." The priest seemed to have long been accustomed to the most modest church that everyone present had ever seen, and there was no embarrassment on his face.

Come to think of it, people who can come to Gravel Town to build their own churches are far less important to worldly material things than to faith.

"Thank you so much, we need a guide, do you have any local recommendations?"

"I can ask Peter, it's not easy to find." The priest's influence here was as pitiful as the church's, and Kraft suspected that he had no other reliable candidate than that name.

It was a wake-up call, thinking back to the natives he had met at the entrances of the villages, and Kraft realized that they might not be looking at the people themselves, but at the seafarers' chests, winged ring amulets.

The locals were not very fond of the church, and as a rule of thumb, they were rarely seen in remote settlements where spiritual life was scarce. A systematic religion will easily attract them as answers to their questions and as objects of appeal.

If the church doesn't succeed, what other similar product occupies this niche?