"No need for that." Lynch waved his hand: "This matter has nothing to do with you." The mage thought for a mont, then suddenly asked: "Isn’t the current situation of the holy Pate rather tense? You’re not as glorious as you appear on the surface, are you?"
"How did you!" Wislin realized his voice was too loud and quickly lowered it: "How did you know that? Have you been in Pate’s territory all along?"
"No, I’ve always been in the Underdark." Lynch touched his nose, saying: "Holding a funeral for a mage like , promoting it so grandly, must have a special purpose. Firstly, since I’m from Haisas, doing this will undoubtedly improve the image of holy Pate among the people of Haisas, likely facilitating alliances or aid between the two countries; additionally, I’m still a mage, and heavily publicizing this long-distance funeral could give the Mage Association so goodwill towards holy Pate. So, holy Pate has reached the point of needing outside aid. It seems this battle will last a long ti."
"Yes, we didn’t expect it to co to this." Wislin said: "After Moon Harbor City, a large number of Beastn took advantage of an opening, and they achieved great success in looting last year’s grain. So, the number of Beastn, which was originally supposed to be drastically reduced in winter, has remained at a high level. Our cavalry and warriors are quite stretched, those darn Beastn are just too many. Right now, we’re just maintaining a stalemate, neither winning nor losing. However, our warriors can’t withstand such a drain for too long."
Everyone listened to Wislin’s words, falling into deep thought. If the northern holy Pate were occupied by Beastn, or if they stayed there too long, the several countries bordering holy Pate would all face disaster. The Beastn aren’t good at much, but when it cos to breeding, they surpass other races by far. The larger the area they occupy, the more severe the damage they cause.
"It seems I didn’t revive at a good ti, did I?" Lynch laughed self-deprecatingly: "Now, Pate’s plans are all ssed up."
The inn door was pushed open, and that Priest ca in alone. He approached Lynch, sizing him up. Zilvra’s hand rested on her sword hilt, staring intensely at this guy’s neck.
"You are Lynch, Lynch von Dutchland?" the Priest said: "My na is Kuboert, and I’m a bishop of the Pate Temple. The critical issue now is, are you really the mage Lynch?"
Lynch looked at this middle-aged man, his determined brow full of anxiety, and his thick lips looked as if they had been "well-trained," clearly the most important "magic artifact" for conducting various ceremonies.
"If you think I’m Lynch, then I am." The mage smiled: "And vice versa."
Kuboert slumped into a chair, looking at Lynch’s confident eyes, shaking his head: "Honestly, I don’t know whether I should hug you or hit you hard. Things are really crazy now."
The mage "hmphed." thinking: Is it only when I’m dead that you people will be happy?
"It seems my being alive causes you great trouble, for which I sincerely apologize." The mage stood up and gave Bishop Kuboert a half-bow.
"Oh dear!" Wislin saw the mage’s actions and couldn’t help but feel nervous. Lynch is not enthusiastic by nature, the more polite he is to soone, the more distant he feels from them. If the mage bows to soone, it ans he has no good feeling left for that person.
"However!" The mage’s tone indeed shifted: "You’ve openly revealed my identity, even going so far as to make a grand proclamation without verification, ultimately causing my mother harm." The Powerful Wand struck the ground hard: "How do we settle this account?"
Footsteps ca from the stairs, and Lynch’s mother wobbled down. She leaned on the railing with both hands, supporting her frail body: "Lynch, is that really you? It seems like I heard your voice..."
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