Chapter 15

"Hello, young healer."

The priest smiled and extended his hand. Great slightly raised his head to examine the other person, noticing that the priest was about twenty-four or twenty-five years old, with a pair of bright blue eyes that truly resembled the clear springs of the Spring Goddess. He wore a light blue silk robe, a dark blue brocade belt, and on the belt, three daffodils were embroidered in white silk thread. According to the memories of the original host, this should be the mark of a third-level priest.

The smile on his face was gentle and warm, and even when facing Great, who was wearing a coarse linen vest with blood still on his clothes, his expression did not change in the slightest:

"I am the servant of the Spring Goddess, Noah Donald. Nice to meet you."

Great extended his hand in return. Halfway through, he realized his hand was still stained with blood, and he was embarrassed, hurriedly pulling it back. Priest Donald was not bothered by this and smiled as he watched Great wash his hands, dry them, and then extend his hand again to shake his:

"Hello, I'm Great, Great Nordmark. Nice to meet you."

When their hands met, Great felt that the other's hand was smooth and delicate, with only a few small calluses from holding a pen. In contrast, his own hands were hard and rough. Priest Donald seemed to notice this as well, his gaze slightly lowering before quickly lifting again, continuing to smile:

"I misunderstood you just now, I'm truly sorry. And Sir Lehman—Sir Lehman, you should also apologize."

Great followed his gaze. The knight standing beside him had a stern face, and in the center of his chest plate, a rose entwined with thorns shone brightly. His hand, free from the iron glove, held a large sword, with several round blue sapphires arranged in a straight line on the center of the scabbard.

Emmm... He was wearing plate armor; the emblem on his chest plate was different from the temple's; and there were gems on his scabbard. Even if he were a temple knight, he wouldn't be equipped with such good gear. He must come from a noble family.

Perhaps his rank was even higher than Priest Donald's—or at least his combat level was higher, like a fourth-level knight. No wonder he was so arrogant, not even acknowledging the priest's request for an apology.

Great's expression remained unchanged. Priest Donald's smile continued, but he slightly raised his voice and called out again:

"Sir Lehman!"

Called out a second time, the knight could no longer ignore it. Sir Lehman's face remained stern, but he stepped forward and nodded slightly to Great:

"Sorry."

"It's fine, what I did earlier could easily be misunderstood," Great smiled.

He considered himself lucky. The knight had held back, not breaking his ribs or even killing him on the spot. He had heard that some less fortunate colleagues, while performing emergency tracheotomies on patients who were suffocating, were reported by the uninformed crowd and publicly handcuffed by the police...

Sir Lehman's attitude was far from good, but Priest Donald didn't seem to care. Seeing that the two had talked it out, he turned gracefully and gestured to the main table:

"Hello, Mr. Nordmark. May I invite you to dinner? The treatment earlier was very pleasant, and I have many things I want to discuss with you..."

As he spoke, his gaze shifted. After all the commotion, Great's teammates, including the young pockmarked priest John and Captain Karen, who had just managed to stand with a cane, had squeezed out to see what was happening. Priest Donald immediately noticed the young priest, still smiling politely, and extended his hand to him:

"And this priest of the War God's temple, would you like to join us as well?"

The young priest's face froze.

He lowered his head and squeezed out, standing in front of Priest Donald, but was at a loss for words. Priest Donald simply pulled him over, seating one on each side of the main table. Great on the left, Priest John on the right, both seated next to him.

In contrast, Sir Lehman's seat was actually at the lower end of the table.

The farmer's wife and several other women hurriedly brought out dishes and served the food. The priest's utensils were his own, silver plates, silver dishes, silver wine glasses, and a silver salt shaker inlaid with gems. Great and John, of course, did not have such conditions; in front of each of them was a bowl of lamb soup and a basket of black bread—

That was all.

The only special treatment was that the lamb soup actually had visible pieces of meat on the bones.

Great did not feel embarrassed at all and buried himself in eating. He wasn't embarrassed, and after a moment of surprise, Priest Donald also recovered, smiling and calling for two silver wine glasses to be brought out, pouring a glass of red wine for each of them.

The color was deep red, the aroma intense, and even though Great had never drunk wine in his previous life, he could tell it was good.

...Very good, the carriage, silk robes, and silver plates and dishes haven't appeared yet, but the wine has already come?

Great wanted to chuckle but held back.

The Sir Lehman sitting below him couldn't hold back. First, the priest he was escorting disregarded his status and mixed with lowly people, then forced him to apologize, and now, he had even seated those commoners above him. Once, twice, thrice, four times—how could this be tolerated!

He slammed his hand on the table and stood up abruptly:

"Sir! You are of noble status, how can you sit with these commoners!"

The hall was suddenly stunned. Great was taken aback, and the young John put down his bread, his face slowly turning red. Priest Donald, however, quickly recovered from his surprise and responded as calmly as before:

"Don't say that. We are all healers, all servants of the gods."

"What kind of healer is he!" Sir Lehman's tone became even more agitated. He stood up from the table and looked down at Great:

"He hasn't used a single healing spell yet. And I've never seen him as a priest's apprentice in the city!"

Great opened his mouth to defend himself but suddenly didn't know what to say.

He knew very well that his "healing" was real, but the healing spells had just dropped out of nowhere, and the divine inspiration... it was all his own fabrication. Now, he was being questioned.

Moreover, the original host had indeed remembered that no priest appeared out of nowhere; they all had to go through long periods of study and accumulate sufficient knowledge and piety...

In fact, he didn't have time to defend himself. Sir Lehman took a step forward, his armor clinking, and his large sword was half-drawn, the light shining directly into Great's eyes:

"Speak! Whose servant are you!"

"He is the divine inspiration of the Nature God!"

From the lower platform, at the long table, several voices chimed in simultaneously.

Great's heart sank. He turned to look at his team's warriors, wishing he could stuff their words back in. But it was too late. Sir Lehman glanced down and a sneer appeared on his face:

"Divine inspiration? A divine inspiration who can't use healing spells? A divine inspiration who can't even heal his own companions?"

Before he finished speaking, he drew his sword with a clang, pointing it at Captain Karen, who was leaning on his teammates with a cane:

"Prove your divine favor! Or else— you are a blasphemer!"