Stray

    The unpleasant scrutiny finally looked away from Nemo, and he thought he might have escaped the catastrophe—the noise in the restaurant finally silenced his frantic heartbeat. Nemo let go, and the hem of his robe was wrinkled in his grip. Now that the crisis has passed, he hesitated for a few seconds, carefully raised the cup in front of him, and adjusted his posture by drinking.

    Then listen generously.

    The only thing Nemo felt a little confident about was the quantity. However, he is very picky about reading books, and he does not read any professional books that are too biased or vague information about demons. But he's always been interested in things like historical biographies to pass the time.

    He knew very well that on this continent, there was no country or race without faith. Atheists are as rare as the higher-level demons that infiltrate the surface.

    Elves have their forest **** Celestine, dwarves love Mansfield, even dragons have their own dragon **** Demetrius - and that's just a few representative ones. In fact, there are often multiple religions within each race. The most typical example is human beings, and Radism has an absolute advantage in the number of believers and the breadth of spread. But all kinds of small religions are still in existence, and new sects are emerging one after another. Except for demons, basically every intelligent creature has the opportunity to come into contact with more than three missionaries from different religions.

    In this environment, except in a few extreme sects, changing beliefs is not a big deal - although it will offend some people, it is not "apostate". "Apostasy" refers to a specific crime, a very serious one.

    It means that the sinner not only betrayed the faith, but even betrayed everything on the surface - it is not even a sin that any believer can afford, and only the highest religious leaders are found to be in collusion with the devil. count of crimes. If it's true, as Ann said, the apostate is the former Judge Knight Commander, then this joke is a bit too big.

    Judging by the enthusiasm of the knights, that kind of thing is tantamount to ice on fire.

    "To be honest, I don't know the details," said Fenrir, who shifted his target and began stabbing Oliver, who was sitting beside him, with his eyes. "Few people in the Rudd are willing to talk about this - after all, the loss of power of the Knight Commander of Judgement is a great scandal for whatever reason."

    "Losing his power? Did he really lose his power? When I heard that he used his power to make a deal with a superior demon, I thought it was absurd."

    "I don't think so." Fenrir retorted dryly, "Do you remember the Battle of Kandal?"

    "Remember."

    "It is rumored that Cross has been unable to use magic since then."

    "You said two years ago?!"

    "Yes, but the Holy See of Garland didn't expel him immediately. You know, after all, there are quite a few people who are counting on him to be the swordsman of prophecy. Let him be the inspector of the Heresy Tribunal, I guess he is waiting for his strength to recover."

    "They are really patient." An pouted.

    "And then a few months ago?...I remember when it was snowing. Cross was found to have the trade mark of the superior demon and was caught - never heard of him The news of the execution, it is estimated that he is still locked in the dungeon of the Heresy Tribunal."

    "It's terrible." The female warrior slammed the wooden cup on the oak tabletop, and the golden liquor splashed a few drops on the tablecloth. "Hopefully he can still move."

    "That's all I know." Fenrir decisively stretched out his thumb, and Ann touched the wound, the blood slowly dissipating in the air. "Why are you suddenly interested in him?"

    "Because I—the biggest idiot in the world was slacking off when the newbies took on quests, and had no idea that anyone still wanted to date Adrian Cross today." She snarled. Answered, grabbing a drumstick from the plate and munching on it in spite of the image.

    "...Shouldn't it be?" Compared to Ann, Fenrir's food was quite elegant. "Who is the mission applicant?"

    "Joanna Edwards," whispered Nemo.

    Fenrir's hand holding the fork froze for a few seconds.

    "Oh." He said, "With such a big accident this time, it will definitely not be our team's turn to preside over the test next season. The test will go well next season, lad."

    "You know the applicant?" Ann spat the chicken thigh bone from her mouth into the plate, "Tell me."

    "The time for questions is over." Fenrir wiped his hands with the napkin, and took out the parchment and charcoal. "There's no need for me to answer your question—you see, I haven't got a lot of good stuff after all. Could you draw a picture first, Savage? I've got other things to do."

    Ann rolled her eyes, grabbed the booklet with her oily hands, and rubbed the charcoal pen against the paper. Nemo leaned over—there were suspicious greasy stains on the paper, but Ann's painting was flawless. Using charcoal, she lightly sketched Pandoratel's shadowy scene, exactly as Nemo remembered it.

      "Thank you for your generosity, bye."

    Fenrir twitched a few times as he looked at the grease stains on the booklet. He picked up the parchment, looked at it, and nodded sternly. "Have a nice meal," he said stiffly, and quickly got up and left with the brochure.

    Oliver and Nemo finally dare to pick up the cutlery. The former folded the napkins like obsessive-compulsive just now, while the latter mechanically sipped the wine in the glass—even though the glass had already been emptied by him.

    "Eat, see you scared." After Fenrir's back completely disappeared from the door, Ann returned her attention to the food in front of her. "Troy's already paid for it, you guys should eat more—I don't understand how nervous you two are. Wright aside, Oliver, that guy can't beat you."

    "But I'm wrong." Oliver raised his fork and poked the beef in front of him awkwardly. "They're some kind of law enforcement... aren't they?"

    "...Listen, keeping the mind of a law-abiding citizen is not good for the mission. You heard him say, Cross in the dungeon of the Inquisition."

    "So what?" Oliver stopped his knife and fork, and his voice sounded a little desperate for the first time.

    "It's better to try than to just give up." Ann said, "We can get him out and put it back."

    Nemo's hand shook, and the potato wedges on the fork rolled onto the tablecloth. Hear what she's saying - it's as if the former Inquisition Knight Commander was as good as a kitten, and the dungeons of the Inquisition can be visited with a ticket.

    "I...I think," Nemo groaned, biting his fork, "just wait another three months and we can attend the next—"

    "I want a hundred gold coins to sign up for the second place," the female warrior squinted him, "and you—especially you, have definitely been watched. To be honest, the next host I wouldn't be surprised if it was the Knights of Judgment."

    Nimoga snapped the tips of the forks, and he spat them out of his mouth in shock.

    "But..." Oliver seemed to be going to struggle a little more.

    "Anyway, let's go and have a look first, okay?" The female warrior reluctantly reassured, "It's not as crazy as you think—if Cross can't use magic, he can only follow him honestly. Let's go, unless he's a rare masochist. As for the dungeons...if they don't change their habits, then we've got a chance. Wright will have to go to Hiram anyway, just to gather intelligence along the way - if it's really bad Now, no one wants to challenge the Ruddism openly, don't worry."

    The food tastes good, but this meal made the two of them feel heavier. Ann maintained her habit of being absent-minded and separated from the two of them in front of the restaurant—and still did not explain where she was going, just told the two to walk around casually, and meet back at the hotel after the sun went down.

    "Your information has been recorded in the guild, wear the black badge and feel at ease, no bounty hunters will move you now." She even threw them a small bag of coins, as if to coax thirteen Four year old boy.

    Nimo held the purse and stood by the street with Oliver, not knowing where to go for a while.

    "Or else." Oliver probably felt that it was not a good idea to act as a sculpture for a long time on the street, and he was the first to speak. "It's not far anyway... Let's go to the Dawning Tavern to see?"

    Nimo turned his head slowly. "Can we not go in?" he said bitterly, stuffing the stuffed grey parrot into his backpack. "Just take a look outside, how about it?" He was really at a loss.

    The Dawn Tavern turned out to be much more normal than he thought. Compared with the decoration of the tavern, the way the two of them were sneaking around on the street during the daytime was more suspicious. But they've been taught a lot, and they've learned the truth that curiosity kills cats—the two circled the tavern, agreeing that it would be more practical to go to the market and buy some Noët specialty.

    Nemo straightened the collar of his robe, turned around, and nearly ran into the person standing behind him—

    The tall man was just a step away from the two, watching them quietly. His long gray hair fell softly over his shoulders, and his iris was a pure orange red—a very rare eye color. The man's clothes are neat, every button is where it should be, and it looks like a waiter's dress.

    "Sorry, I thought you two were guests." He smiled slightly, "How about you, don't you go in and sit?"

    Nimo was stunned.

    "...No, thank you." Seeing that Nemo didn't speak, Oliver hurriedly laughed a few times, dragged Nemo in a daze and hurriedly left from the street where the tavern was. He circled into the crowded small market and stopped by the sign of a bakery.

    "Have you seen him?" He released his grip on Nemo's arm.

    "No." Nemo said slowly, "Well, how do you say it...it might sound a little..."

    It's not that he doesn't want to tell Oliver, it's that he doesn't know how to describe the feeling. Nemo was pretty sure it wasn't a negative emotion, but couldn't find any suitable positive description either. He knew that he had never seen that man before, but at that moment, some small emotion suddenly swelled and exploded - if he had to use a word to describe it, the emotion was barely close to "relief".

    The emotion is not that strong, and he is more troubled by it.

    "It may be a connection between demon believers or demon warlocks." Nemo found a reason for himself, "It must be so. Those eyes... They don't look like human eyes."

    For some reason, he didn't hate them.

    (m..=)