Chapter 356: David Hamilton Sred

Pergrande had completely silenced the Dwarves with an irrefutable argument. It wasn’t that the Dwarves feared death, but they absolutely could not tolerate dying in this place. Meanwhile, after consulting with his people, Ron agreed to the Priest’s request. Of course, since the newcomers’ initial attitude had been less than friendly, Ron had Ivendel draw up special regulations for them to demonstrate the "order" of Delusional Land.

But the Priests from Molten Iron Barrier seemed long accustomed to such treatment. No matter what difficulties they faced, they remained perfectly composed, and the rules of this land didn’t seem to bother them in the slightest.

"They’re just obeying the law. They don’t care what the law actually is," a dejected Ivendel said when he found Ron on the afternoon of their second day back in New Green Swamp Town. "I’ve tried everything, but they’re clearly dead set on completing their mission, even though it wasn’t something they were originally required to do."

"Quite something," Ron remarked, not having much else to say. As long as these people didn’t attack his residents on sight, he had no compelling reason to drive them away. This was especially true since the Priests were quite generous, purchasing a number of Alchemy Potions from him at high prices. This led Lavinia, who had already moved her entire Little Cat Alchemy Shop here, to treat them like honored guests.

"Where are they all headed? Do I need to make an appearance?"

"That won’t be necessary. You can just continue with your work," Ivendel said, waving his hand. "After lunch, Victoria accompanied them to the trading post to the north. They plan to go over everything you all experienced from the beginning and then make their final assessment."

"I’m sure Miss Victoria has the good sense to know what should be said and what should be concealed."

"However... one of them didn’t go with the rest," Ivendel said with some hesitation. "That Priest. She stayed behind and wishes to speak with you."

"Pergrande?" Ron raised an eyebrow. The Priest’s status was clearly not low; she even had the ability to make their leader, Aron, change his mind. ’Logically, she should have gone with her companions. Why did she stay behind?’

’If anyone were going to stay behind, it would more likely be that Half-Elf Martial Monk. He was quite disappointed about not getting a satisfying fight with Quest.’

"If you don’t wish to see her, I can say you’re in the middle of an experiment..."

"No, it’s fine. Show her in. I’m curious to hear what she has to say."

The female Priest from Molten Iron Barrier was soon led in by Ivendel. Her armor and vestments were as good as new, presumably having been repaired. Ron invited her to sit down. After her heavy Magic Staff thudded against the floor, he slowly asked:

"Priest Pergrande, I hear your companions have left. Why have you come to see me instead?"

"We each have our own duties. Mine is to obtain more information from you," Pergrande said, nodding at Ron. "That’s the official reason. As for the unofficial one, I believe you can tell me far more than we could find out by investigating on our own."

"Since you’re so comfortable letting Old Lei and the others wander about, you must be confident they won’t find anything incriminating, aren’t you?"

"Isn’t a happy ending for everyone a good thing?" Ivendel retorted. "Lady Pergrande, digging to the bottom of things isn’t a good habit. You never know..."

"What, that I might actually dig something up?" The female Priest looked up, a disdainful smile on her face. "Don’t compare me to you, you little brat from the Cloud Port Holt Family. I’ve been nominated for Bishop seven times."

"I don’t know what your intentions are here, but for all the time you’ve been here, you’ve probably learned less than I’ve seen in the past few days."

"How could you—"

"Ivendel." Ron’s gaze fell to Pergrande’s knuckles, which were tapping lightly on the tabletop. "Leave us."

"Er, as you command, my lord."

Ivendel immediately and obediently turned to leave, pulling the door shut behind him. Seeing him gone, the Priest glanced warily out the window. Once she was certain they wouldn’t be overheard, she slowly retrieved a crumpled letter from a gap in her armor and placed it on Ron’s desk.

"What’s this?" ’Judging by the creases on the letter, it must have been written and sealed some time ago.’

"The Religious Order has multiple systems. Although we all unite against Evil Demons, our day-to-day responsibilities are quite different," Pergrande said in a low voice. "Setting aside battlefield matters, Old Lei is responsible for judging and executing heretics, while I am more inclined toward administrative duties. As such, I am a bit closer to the Archbishop."

"To Old Lei, the matter of Delusional Land is just a casual inquiry from the Archbishop. But for me, it’s another, more formal mission. A few days before our departure, the Archbishop and several other high-ranking members received an Oracle. They jointly wrote this letter and entrusted it to me to deliver to you."

"What’s in the letter?" Ron picked up the letter but didn’t hurry to open it. Instead, he carefully inspected it for any traces of Arcane or Divine Magic to prevent anything that might work against him.

"I don’t know. I’m not authorized to open it," Pergrande said, shaking her head. "But please, rest assured, there’s no need for us to play tricks with something like this."

Molten Iron Barrier’s reputation on the continent might not be the best, but their strength is undeniable. The four of us may not be able to defeat you and your people, but if the entire Religious Order colluded with the territories under its jurisdiction to launch a Holy War, how would you respond? Planting a trap in a letter would be meaningless.

"It’s just that... there seems to be a familiar aura about this..." Ron mused for a moment before finally summoning a Mage’s Hand to open it from a distance. A plain sheet of paper fell into his hand. Other than lines of cursive script, there was only the insignia of Molten Iron Barrier and the Archbishop’s personal seal. That feeling Ron had—that something was off, but he couldn’t put his finger on it—came from this private seal.

’But what could be wrong with a seal? The Seal Paste, maybe?’

In his own office, with the Messenger watching, Ron began using Magic to inspect every trace on the letter. But no matter what method he used, he couldn’t find the source of the problem. The letter’s content was simply the Archbishop expressing his admiration for the "warrior who conquered Delusional Land," claiming the Religious Order would offer support for anything he needed. There was nothing suspicious about it at all.

Ron’s gaze finally fell to the signature block at the very bottom, where the names of several high-ranking members, including the Archbishop, were written next to the insignia and the seal. A somewhat familiar surname caught his eye.

"David Hamilton Sred..." Ron looked up at Priest Pergrande, who had grown slightly tense during his meticulous inspection. "Priest, may I ask you a question?"

"Among the higher-ups in the Religious Order, this Sred, is he a Half-Elf?"