Ogre quickly set aside his work and followed along.
"Lord Yard." The passing believers and apprentice knight guards all made way for him.
Here, apart from the bishop, no one held a higher position than Yard.
"Don't mind ," Yard gestured with a wave of his hand.
As the two proceeded, they soon passed through the confessional in the rear hall and arrived in front of a small storeroom.
The walls of this storeroom, neglected for years, were overgrown with parasitic plants, with thin vines rooting deeply into the stone walls.
Several slender vine branches appeared vibrant under the window's light.
The dust stirred by the opening door seed less decrepit in the sunlight divided by the branches.
Clearly, this place had so age to it.
'In a church being renovated, how can there be such an old place...' Ogre was unsure why Yard had brought him here.
But he felt that this Paladin must have sothing important to tell him.
"Ogre, how long until you co of age?" Yard stopped Ogre at the door, not allowing him to enter.
Perhaps he was worried about the dust dirtying Ogre, or maybe he didn't want Ogre to touch anything inside.
"About a year, I think." Ogre wasn't entirely sure of his birth date, only his approximate age.
The coming-of-age ceremony on the continent is held at seventeen, and he's at least sixteen now.
"Hmm, in the blink of an eye, you're almost an adult." Yard nodded, then said nothing more, instead rummaging through the piles of clutter inside.
After a short while, he erged with an iron box.
"Ogre, if you're in pursuit of power, I have nothing more to teach you, but I have prepared a gift for you—originally intended for your coming-of-age ceremony, but it seems now might be a better ti to entrust it to you."
Yard's voice, like his usual deanor, was always calm and unhurried.
"A gift?" This long-forgotten word stirred sothing within Ogre.
He hadn't heard it in a long ti.
He didn't quite understand why Yard was so kind to him, especially since he couldn't inherit his teacher's legacy...
"But before you receive this gift, Ogre, you must answer one question."
Yard had observed Ogre for a long ti. He didn't care where Ogre ca from or what his past was, but there was one thing he had to care about.
"Teacher, go ahead. Even without a gift, I will answer," Ogre said earnestly.
He was serious, as long as it didn't involve his true secrets.
"Ogre, what do you think of mutants?" Yard's golden eyes fixed on Ogre, displaying for the first ti the powerful aura of a seasoned Professional.
"I..." Ogre instinctively wanted to recite the standard answer from the Doctrine of Dawn.
But Yard emphasized, "I want the truth, your inner truth."
"I think there might indeed be so mutants who are kind..."
Ogre paused, recalling his father, then other demon beasts, and his father's warning: "But perhaps mutants who don't appear before humans are the best for humanity."
Ogre's answer was barely satisfactory.
"What if I were infected and beca a mutant?" Yard asked.
"You..." This question caught Ogre off guard, but he quickly composed his response: "A person's soul doesn't change with their appearance; it's just a different form."
"No, child, you're wrong. The soul can be changed by stance and body. Very few remain unchanged by external factors. Many once believed in their willpower.
But the feeding instincts of the blood race, the bloodthirsty violence of werewolves, are inherent and hard to change. It's difficult to expect a dwarf not to covet wealth.
Perhaps initially, the infected won't be affected, but over ti, the body will eventually taint the soul.
This is why the Doctrine of Dawn's stance on mutants and wizards is—leave none alive!
So, if I were infected, I hope you can personally, imdiately! Kill ."
Yard patiently explained the influence of racial bloodlines.
But Ogre felt that things weren't so simple.
"Rare, but does that an such people do exist..." Ogre cautiously probed.
If it was just to emphasize sothing already known, Ogre felt Yard wouldn't use this attitude.
"Ogre, you're smart, and that's indeed why I asked the question..."
Yard said as he wiped the dust off the iron box, and with a click—
The patterns on the iron box glowed faintly, and the mysterious box opened.
Inside was a piece of crimson flesh.
Remarkably, it was still wriggling!
"This is!" The mont the box opened, Ogre's body involuntarily craved it—a desire to consu.
'What on earth is this that makes feel this way!'
Mind you, Ogre had just eaten not long ago.
"This is sothing that can help you beco a Professional." Seeing Ogre's reaction, Yard closed the box again.
As the box shut, the hunger imdiately ceased.
"For... for ?!" Ogre never expected such a precious and bizarre thing to be the so-called gift.
Since when was becoming a Professional so easy?
Why would such a strange thing be in the storeroom of the Church of Dawn?
At this mont, even the most oblivious person should realize—the gift might not be so simple.
"Yes, but it's only one choice." Yard then took out a badge from his pocket.
It was a silvery tal badge, engraved with thorns and flas—the insignia of the Church of Dawn's Knight of Discipline, and a high knight-level badge at that.
Ogre could also tell that the badge wasn't made of silver, but mithril—an extrely expensive transcendent material, usually used for crafting parts of magical devices.
But compared to the preciousness of the badge's material, the aning behind it was even more significant.
"Teacher, what do you an by this?" Ogre's knowledge wasn't enough to discern Yard's intentions.
"This is another choice. Take this badge, go to the tallest bell tower in the city, and give my na. Soone will teach you the path of imagery."
Yard placed the two choices before Ogre.
One was to consu the strange flesh and imdiately beco a Martial Artist, and the other was rely a vague promise.
"Teacher, I've never heard of anything that can make soone a Martial Artist directly..." Ogre didn't make a choice imdiately but instead voiced his doubts.
It wasn't that Ogre could suppress his greed, but he simply didn't believe his relationship with Yard was that deep.
"To maintain caution in the face of temptation, I wasn't wrong about you, Ogre."
Yard rarely smiled, then he left the storeroom, closed the door, put away the two items, and led Ogre to a stone bench.
Though the storeroom was dusty, the stone bench outside was clean.
"Sit down." Yard sat on the bench and gestured for Ogre to sit beside him.
Once Ogre was seated, Yard began to explain: "The flesh I showed you earlier is called Tai Sui at, sothing from the east. Consuming it can indeed make you a Martial Artist or even inherit the power of a Grand Martial Artist, and it can extend your lifespan.
But as a price—you will find it difficult to advance in martial arts, and your other transcendent paths will be cut off."
"That doesn't sound like a flaw..." Ogre was montarily stunned.
He didn't think such a flaw could be called a flaw. Compared to the effects of Tai Sui at, Ogre was more concerned about what creature it was cut from.
Such an outrageous thing, he had never even heard of.
If it could be mass-produced, wouldn't everyone in the east be a martial artist?
"Yes, that's not the real flaw of Tai Sui at. The real flaw is the ergence of another personality after consumption..." Yard clapped his hands, sealing the box containing the Tai Sui at.
"That's why so here call it—the forbidden potion of the east. If you truly choose Tai Sui at for power, I can give it to you now, but from then on, you and I will have no further connection."
Ogre was silent for a few seconds before speaking: "I'm more interested in the other choice."
With the power of a Professional Martial Artist and the aid of equipnt, perhaps he could deal with the Goblin King, but the subsequent Ogre Chief...
And the unknown Fire Mage, how would he face them?
Moreover, behind that Fire Mage, there was likely a complete team of Professionals.
Back then, he only heard the explosion, dread of flas related to his father's death, and couldn't determine how strong the enemy was.
The power of a Professional alone was far from enough.
A quick look at " will leave you more fulfilled.
The grudge of the village's destruction was great, but it couldn't compare to the father who raised him...
"That starts with the previous question..." Yard's eyes showed a rare hint of nostalgia.
"You an, the person you want to et... was infected as a mutant." Ogre suddenly realized.
Yard turned his head—he didn't expect Ogre to react so quickly.
"You're right, Ogre. The person I want you to et is a priest who was infected and beca a blood race. Well... he's no longer a priest now."
With that, Yard sighed.
Ogre had never seen this dignified Paladin show such a side.
Then, a story began to unfold slowly in Yard's narration.
Proofreader & Editor: Peter Pan
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