Ch. 16 - Mage O'Neill

Paladin, who had no idea he was being observed, took a deep breath. He was no longer the humble slave Paladin. He was a priest of noble birth, Paladin Flamel. Therefore, not only he must display the piety of a priest, but also the elegance and calmness of a nobleman. However, Paladin had no idea how to behave as an aristocrat because he had never seen real aristocrats before. Fortunately, the professors in the Freemasons’ Association were usually gentle, knowledgeable, generous, and decent. While picturing how the professors behaved, he attempted to imitate them.

Paladin showed a gentle and modest smile. One of his hands lightly held and raised the cross given to him by his parents, which was hanging on his chest. He then spoke slowly to the old man at the counter in a fanatical, reverent tone, "Oh, the Great and the Almighty Enos! Venerable old man, I came to your inn guided by the light of God. All I want is hot water, bread, a knife, and some clothes…."

Who could’ve predicted that the old man would tap the table impatiently while frowning before Paladin finished speaking? He then spread his hands and rudely said to Paladin, "Money, young priest! Even if Enos himself comes to visit, you still have to pay money!”

"Hahahahaha!" The entire tavern burst out laughing as soon as the old man said that. The mercenary and sergeant both looked at the embarrassed Paladin and laughed loudly.

One of the tall mercenaries immediately let go of the girl in his arms. He then smiled and pointed at Paladin, mocking him.

"Oh! Dear priest, even Enos has to pay! If there's no money…."

Before he finished speaking, all of the mercenaries in the hall laughed and exclaimed in unison, "GET OUT!"

Paladin was neither sad nor happy, but he showed a frustrated expression and pointed at the group of mercenaries.

"How can you say that? Call Him the Great Enos! Don't you have any faith? This is blasphemy, a naked blasphemy!" Paladin shouted.

The laughter that had just stopped became even louder, provoked by what Paladin said. As a result, the laughter became more intense.

"Oh, what a pitiful priest. We’re all mercenaries, a job that regularly deals with blood spilling on the knife's edge. Enos, the God of Light, naturally has been blessing us. Otherwise, we wouldn't have survived to this day!"

One of the mercenaries laughed, which made the others join in. Paladin, who displayed an upset expression, kept glancing at the mage. The people at the mage's table were deafeningly quiet. They didn't seem to want to join the mercenaries in making fun of him at all.

Seeing that, Paladin was relieved. He let out a soft snort, tossed a gold coin, and jumped onto the counter. In a low voice, he made a firm statement.

"Do you think this amount of money is enough to give a God's servant a rest for his tired body, old man?"

Wait, wait a minute! The noisy tavern quickly quieted down. Everyone—including the mercenary, the girl, the bard, even the waiter, and the old man—stared at the gold coin thrown on the table. A gold coin, yes, it was a gold coin!

It wasn’t that these mercenaries were so poor they haven't seen gold coins. They've seen it. A lot. But, they had never seen anyone willingly spend more than ten silver coins in such a third-rate tavern! The priest actually did that and threw a gold coin! Didn't this mean he’s rich?!

The old man was the first to react. Paladin watched him snatch the gold coins at a speed that even the top instructors from the Assassin Alliance couldn’t match. After biting and rubbing it for a while, he nodded with a strange expression.

"It's real gold. Allow me to prepare the best room for you, Father."

Boom! As soon as the old man said that, the originally quiet tavern was in an uproar! This miserable and poor-looking priest was very rich! The mercenaries, who came here to make money, all stared greedily at the scrawny Paladin.

"Look at his form," the mage O'Neil, who had kept his head down the entire time, said hoarsely.

The old man looked at Paladin in pity, as if it was over for Paladin. He slowly said, “What is your name? Where are you from? The Grand Duke ordered that those who stay in the towns at the border are required to register."

"Paladin Flamel."

"Paladin... eh? Ah!"

The old man nodded slightly when he wrote Paladin's name on the paper. But then, he came to a halt. It was as if he recalled something about the surname. Throwing away the quill in fright, he looked at Paladin in surprise and asked cautiously, "My lord, what did you say your name is?"

"It’s Paladin Flamel."

"My Enos! It's the nobleman!" The old man jumped up in terror.

The mercenaries also exchanged surprised glances. Paladin, on the other hand, calmly took out a badge from his cuff, which depicted a lion kneeling on top of straws. It turned out to be the emblem of the Flamel household!

"Master, please, please!" The old man’s attitude shifted, he began bootlicking. He was inviting Paladin to go upstairs, but Paladin abruptly came to a halt. He turned around to look at the mercenaries, who had regretful expressions on their faces, and said, "As you can see, I'm a priest on his way to the church. Nurba is my destination. Are there any brave warriors who are willing to escort this God’s servant to Nurba? Of course, you'll be financially compensated."

Paladin’s attitude could be described as neither humble nor overbearing. He showed genuine elegance. No one in the room doubted his true identity.

Hearing that, the mercenaries' previously regretful eyes instantly lit up. This was a fantastic opportunity to be acquainted with a nobleman! Although information about them was scarcely leaked, it was widely known that anyone who murdered a noble would be hanged. Still, being able to curry favor with a nobleman was also a valuable invisible asset. Although it couldn't be said, some benefits could be obtained from this.

Just when the large group of mercenaries were about to make a move, the mage O'Neill, who was sitting in the corner, suddenly nodded. When Orkney saw this, he immediately stood up and exclaimed, "My lord, how can these trash who can't even hold a dagger escort you? Allow us to protect you all the way there.

The mercenaries who were present immediately glared at them. However, they quickly dropped the idea of teaching those people a lesson after seeing the mage, O'Neill, slowly rose to his feet with sparks flickering on his fingertips.

"Mage, that's a mage! Don't give up your life here just for the sake of a mere job!"

Paladin narrowed his eyes imperceptibly when he saw the mercenaries surrounding him dared not speak out. He was hoping to hire some of these common mercenaries. They could be used as material to refine the Philosopher's Stone on the journey.

Given that the mage's team had offered themselves and that the mage had more than 200 magic elements floating around him, it'd be extremely difficult for Paladin to deal with them on his own. If he didn't agree to their offer right now, it'd seem very strange. It'd be suspicious if he turned down a powerful team in order to hire ordinary mercenaries to protect him, a noble. Even though he was essentially a curious person, he was aware that his false identity would be put at risk.

In this brief moment, when Paladin was contemplating countermeasures in his mind, a sense of crisis pierced his heart. It felt like ice had directly hit his face. Paladin's expression instantly changed. When he turned his head to look, he noticed that the tavern's windows were dazzlingly bright. It was as if hundreds of magic lamps exploded at the same time.

The strange thing was that none of the people present noticed anything unusual, the dazzling white light, for example. Only the mage, O'Neill, who was shrouded in a black robe, raised his lowered head. He appeared to be a little tense, completely the opposite of his previous silence and calmness!

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