An Old Country Bumpkin Crosses Swords

“...Who are you? You don’t look like you came to pray.”

After a brief stir, a man emerged from the middle of the group and spoke.

He looked about the same age as Ibroi—in other words, older than me. His hair was almost entirely white, reminding me of Nidas, the Adventurers’ Guild master.

But the hostility I sensed in his voice was nothing like Nidas’s.

“As you say, I’m not here to worship.”

“...Then what do you want? I have no time to deal with lost travelers.”

Now, what should I do?

They were clearly wary of me. The heavily armored knights standing around them looked ready to draw their swords at any moment.

If they were this wary of one passing middle-aged man, that would ironically seem to reinforce Lucy and Ibroi’s theory. But there was no need to explain that to someone who didn’t know the reason.

“You are Bishop Levios Salreone, correct?”...