Chapter 361 Strange

"Confused?"

Xia Nan naturally wouldn't ignore the old cleric's greeting.

Although it sounded a bit mystical, carrying that distinct religious flavor unique to the clergy, he still sensed the friendliness in the man's words.

Combined with what he had just learned from the two peasant women about Cleric Moin's lofty reputation in Sheep Horn Town and his past deeds, Xia Nan had a rather good impression of the hale, white-haired old man standing before him.

He took two steps forward, offering a polite nod as he introduced himself: "Hello, I'm Xia Nan, a passing adventurer."

He didn't reveal too much information, offering only his name and a vague background. Of course, anyone with even a little worldly experience could glean the latter just by looking at his attire.

Unexpectedly, Cleric Moin actually seemed to recognize him. The old man's cloudy brown eyes shifted, his gaze lingering briefly on Xia Nan's armor and sword hilt. "Mr. Horac's caravan, yes?"

"You know him?" Xia Nan asked, raising an eyebrow in surprise.

"Of course."

The cleric's deeply wrinkled face maintained its friendly, gentle smile as he patiently explained, "An official member of the Golden Wheat Merchant Guild is an incredibly rare and honored guest for a remote, rundown little place like Sheep Horn Town.

"If we were fortunate enough to secure a partnership with Mr. Horac's caravan, it would be a tremendous blessing for the ordinary residents of our town."

Moin's words were sincere and earnest. He didn't act superior because of his status as a cleric; instead, true to his character, he placed the needs of the townsfolk first.

And it wasn't just flattery.

As a powerful mercantile organization with a massive sphere of influence across several nearby provinces—especially Cloudclimb Province—the resources and power the Golden Wheat Merchant Guild could mobilize were terrifying.

Horac was an official member of the guild. Even if he wasn't a high-ranking executive who could dictate where the guild's resources flowed, his membership alone was proof of his financial clout, marking him as one of the top merchants in his local region.

If Sheep Horn Town could truly establish a long-term partnership with him, it really would improve the lives of the residents, just as Cleric Moin had said.

"Yesterday was my first time meeting Horac. He is a generous and kind gentleman. Unfortunately, we were pressed for time. I had to return to the Church to lead prayers, and Mr. Horac seemed busy looking for something, so we couldn't discuss a partnership in depth.

"Fortunately, I heard he will be staying in our town for a while longer. I hope I'll have the chance to speak with him again."

Moin's smile was like a carefully tilled field—warm and orderly.

But a second later, as if sensing something in Xia Nan's brief silence, the old man subconsciously leaned forward, assuming an attentive posture. "What is it, Mr. Xia Nan?" he asked earnestly.

"Did Horac not tell you?" Xia Nan shook his head slightly. "We are only resting briefly in Sheep Horn Town. We'll be leaving in a few days.

"If you have business to discuss with him, I suggest you find an opportunity to visit him at the inn soon."

Before Xia Nan came into contact with the Pastel Gemstone and broke its mind-charming effect on Horac, the merchant truly had planned to stay in Sheep Horn Town for a long time to investigate the gem.

But now, after Xia Nan absorbed the gem's energy into the [Dream Weaving Corridor] last night, the merchant from Nym was free from its mental control. He immediately changed his plans, deciding to sell off the caravan's goods as quickly as possible and leave right away.

As soon as Xia Nan finished speaking, he keenly noticed the kindly warmth in the white-haired old man's dark brown eyes freeze for a split second, like dappled sunlight flickering beneath swaying branches.

His large, calloused hand imperceptibly rubbed against his White Waxwood Staff. The anomaly was fleeting, vanishing so quickly that it made one doubt if it was just an illusion.

"Ah, a wise decision." Showing no signs of anything amiss, Moin smiled warmly, his tone carrying just the right amount of wistfulness. "The world is vast. It truly isn't fitting to linger too long in such a small corner."

"It's just..." he pivoted the conversation, as natural as a farmer casually parting crops to check the soil. "Yesterday, Mr. Horac mentioned that he really loved the atmosphere of Sheep Horn Town. He said the passionate townsfolk and abundant resources made him reluctant to leave. I thought he was going to stay a while longer."

Moin's choice of words was careful and completely inoffensive, making it seem as though he were genuinely just curious about why Horac had changed his plans.

Naturally, Xia Nan couldn't tell him that Horac had decided not to stay because the [Dream Weaving Corridor] had absorbed the gem's energy and broken the charm.

Without showing the slightest emotion on his face, he simply played along and replied vaguely in a flat tone, "Plans can never keep up with changes. Mr. Horac probably has more important matters to attend to."

Xia Nan could sense that as he spoke, Cleric Moin's seemingly casual gaze was scrutinizing every minute shift in his expression, as if trying to glean something from his face.

But oddly enough—whether because the peasant women's earlier praises had given him too good an impression of the cleric, or because of Moin's unique aura as a cleric of Chantier, the Goddess of Agriculture—Xia Nan didn't feel offended by the scrutiny at all. It just felt like an elder looking at him with concern.

Fortunately, as a Class Holder, his muscle control was excellent. He kept his face perfectly calm and unflappable. Unless the other party possessed some sort of mind-reading ability, it would be impossible to spot anything unusual on the surface.

"Hehe, you are right, my child," Moin said, as calm and composed as he had been from the start.

"But it is exactly because change is eternal that plans are precious.

"Just like an excellent gardener never stops working because of a sudden storm. He learns to observe the weather and follow the course of nature."

'Too cultured...' Xia Nan couldn't help but grumble inwardly.

Although he roughly understood what the old man meant, he truly didn't know how to respond to such a statement—brimming with religious philosophy and life wisdom—without exposing his own lack of refinement.

Considering the slightly delicate atmosphere and figuring that 'the more you speak, the more mistakes you make,' he simply kept his mouth shut and returned a polite, decent smile.

The air in the plaza instantly fell into a dead silence.

Right at that moment, Xia Nan's gaze swept over the tightly shut doors of the Church at the edge of the plaza. As thoughts flashed through his mind, a probing question slipped from his lips. "Is the Church... not open today?"

The muscles on Cleric Moin's face imperceptibly stiffened for a second. His gaze followed Xia Nan's point, sweeping over the heavy wooden doors carved with the goddess's holy symbol. The kindly softness in his eyes rippled like water, subtly undulating to hide a much deeper emotion within.

Tap—

It was the crisp sound of the White Waxwood Staff striking the plaza's stone tiles.

"Yes..." Moin sighed naturally, his tone full of regret. "As the years pass, the need for repairs is unavoidable.

"Just as the Mother of All Things teaches—'True guardianship lies in daily cultivation and timely mending, not in lamentation after the fact.' I am putting the goddess's teachings into practice, attempting to patch up some of the dilapidated parts of the Church.

"Though I've been making repairs for some time, until the Church is restored to an adequate state, all prayers, services, and similar activities have been canceled.

"In the meantime, to prevent any unnecessary dangers, or to keep any devout heart from wavering because of this temporary imperfection, the faithful are forbidden from entering.

"I apologize. If you wanted to go in and take a look, I'm afraid you will have to wait a little while longer."

As he spoke, Moin gave an expressive shrug and cracked a small joke. "But to be honest, it wouldn't be worth it to wait in Sheep Horn Town for months just for this Church.

"The faith of the Goddess is sublime, of course, but the Church here in Sheep Horn Town is far from magnificent enough to warrant disrupting your own life just to visit it.

"In other towns, you can find countless structures far grander and more majestic than this one."

The old cleric's words were both humorous and philosophical. He provided a complete and thorough explanation for the Church's closure while earnestly sharing the goddess's teachings that he practiced. His frankness and sense of responsibility throughout the explanation were enough to dispel almost any skeptic's doubts.

Of course, that didn't include Xia Nan.

Closing for maintenance was common. But when it happened in a remote town circulating a bizarre gem with mind-charming effects—and especially when townsfolk showed the same resistance discussing the Church's closure as they did the gem...

Suspicion quietly sprouted like weeds in his mind, taking root right outside the tightly shut wooden doors of the Church of Goddess Chantier at the edge of the plaza.

Until he could see the inside of the Church with his own eyes and conduct a proper search, he couldn't be certain of the Church's true nature, nor Moin's exact role in this affair.

But since the man had already made his position clear, forcefully demanding to go inside now would inevitably come across as highly disrespectful to an old cleric so beloved in the town.

After mulling it over, Xia Nan decided to find another opportunity to come back and snoop around later.

For now, it was best to take his leave.

"May your journey be like a well-kept seed, always finding the fertile soil it needs to take root and sprout," Moin said, continuing with his parable-like words rich in agricultural wisdom as he smiled warmly and sincerely to bid Xia Nan farewell.

It was currently early morning.

As summer gave way to autumn, bright, brilliant sunlight spilled from the sky, bathing the entire plaza in clarity.

Clad in dark-silver iron armor with twin swords on his back, the black-haired, black-eyed young man bathed in the sunlight as his figure vanished at the far end of the street.

Meanwhile, swallowed by the pitch-black shadow cast by the towering Church, the elderly cleric stood quietly in place. His pale strands of hair seemed to take on a strange hue from the surrounding darkness. In the depths of his cloudy eyes, which reflected the young man's retreating back, his gentle kindness was quietly replaced by something far more profound.

...

...

'Strange. It's too strange.'

Walking down the street, Xia Nan's expression was steeped in thought.

A remote frontier town at the edge of the province, an unprecedented special gem with mind-control effects, tightly shut Church doors, and a wise, kindly old cleric deeply beloved by the townsfolk.

The clues he had gathered seemed to be linking together.

But the most crucial part had yet to reveal its truth.

Chantier, the Goddess of Agriculture, belonged to the good faction in the universal sense. She constantly constrained Her believers to strictly abide by Her teachings, acting amiably while warmly and generously helping others.

Yet in Sheep Horn Town—a place under Her domain—such an anomaly had been occurring for nearly half a year. Why hadn't She, or rather, the town's cleric, shown any reaction at all?

Out of caution, Xia Nan hadn't mentioned the Pastel Gemstone during his conversation with Moin, but the cleric's own attitude had, to some extent, revealed a thing or two.

What put him on even higher alert was the subtle change in Cleric Moin's expression when Xia Nan mentioned that Horac's caravan was only making a brief stop and would soon leave on their return journey.

Whether it was for better or worse, he couldn't tell.

However, from the information he had gleaned from their conversation just now, he could confirm one thing: Horac had interacted with Cleric Moin yesterday during the day, before he broke free from the gem's mind control.

The cleric's assumption that the caravan would stay in town for a long time came precisely from that encounter.

Such a massive shift in plans in just a single night—would it make the old man suspect something?

Xia Nan wasn't sure.

He needed to dig deeper and get more information from Horac and the others.

...

"That's right, that sprightly-looking old cleric. I ran into him yesterday when Afu and I went out," Horac explained, sitting across the table from Xia Nan in a secluded, empty corner of the Woolen Rusty Nail Inn lobby.

"He's a pretty good guy. Compared to those clerics in the big cities, he doesn't put on any airs at all. He acts just like a commoner.

"I had originally thought about staying in town and doing some business with him, but it looks like that's not happening anymore. It's a shame.

"I'll talk about it again after I get back to Nym and see if there are any opportunities for a partnership. I'll send some people over then to do a detailed survey."

"Revealing information? Now that you mention it, I did tell the cleric that we might stay in town for a while, but that was under the influence of the mind control, after all.

"After the charm was broken last night, I haven't seen him again, so I obviously didn't mention anything about changing our plans.

"In that case, it makes perfect sense that he'd be kept in the dark."

Just as Xia Nan furrowed his brow, about to say something, a mix of heavy and light footsteps echoed as two figures gradually appeared on the nearby stairs.

Margaret and the dwarf Thordin had come down.