Chapter 362: Did You Get Your Head Wholesale?

Victoria was summoned quickly. By the time the Priest arrived, Ron and Jilannis had already administered first aid to Pergrande. Thanks to their efforts, the Priest had little trouble saving Pergrande’s life. When Pergrande opened her eyes again, she was met with the sight of Jilannis’s flawless, jade-like face, and the feeling of warm air enveloping her body.

"I’ve heard... you feel warm right before you freeze to death," Pergrande chuckled weakly. "Am I at that stage now...? An Angel... come to take me away."

"Oh Lord, I have failed You..."

"You’d better snap out of it, or you’ll be failing us before you fail your Lord," a familiar, even friendly, baritone voice sounded by her ear. "Priest Pergrande, Sera didn’t bring you back just so you could meet an Angel."

"I wouldn’t be so sure," another, rougher female voice immediately retorted. "If she really fought against the Abyss, she’s definitely earned a spot in the Hall of Heroes. The valkyries who guide the Heroic Spirits should count as Angels, at least, right?"

That settled it. Pergrande now knew exactly where she was. Tyr, it seemed, had no need of her service just yet. She had been rescued by the Lord of Delusional Land!

Pergrande forced herself to sit up, supported by the strong arms of Victoria and Sera. "Lord Ron? Is it really all of you?"

"It’s me, Priest Pergrande," Ron replied. He put a Potion he had just taken out back where it belonged and came to stand before her. "How did you end up here? And where are Judge Aron and his people?"

"It’s ’Bishop Pergrande’—oh, never mind," the Priest subconsciously tried to correct him, but then gave a bitter smile. "Just call me Pergrande. I’m no longer a member of the Religious Order. I’m an apostate now. They’re all hunting me, including Old Lei... I had nowhere else to turn, so I came to you for refuge..."

"Oh, so you left the Molten Iron Barrier? That’s great news."

"Don’t refuse me just yet," Pergrande interrupted. "Please, just listen to the information I have before you decide... Wait, what did you say?"

"It’s great news. Of course we welcome you to join us," Ron said matter-of-factly. "We’re all fighting the Abyss, so what difference does it make where you do it? Why insist on following the Molten Iron Barrier?"

"You’re just...agreeing like that?" Pergrande was shocked. "No oath? No background check? No contract? Aren’t you afraid I’m a spy sent to infiltrate your ranks?!"

"I don’t think your people... *their* people... are that cunning," Ron shrugged. "Besides, judging by your frostbite, if this is a self-harm ploy, it’s a bit extreme. Whoever sent you really wasn’t afraid you’d freeze to death on the way here."

"But now is not the time to talk about this. You said you had intelligence? Why don’t you tell us about it?"

"It’s about Rose City! The person you suspected was indeed a problem!" Pergrande’s words were jumbled; she was clearly still disoriented. "But more importantly, there’s a group of people waiting for you to rescue them! Their leader told me to run ahead and ask you for help!"

"They’re Centaurs, and their leader’s name is... Zandia!"

"Zandia?" Ron shot to his feet. ’How did that bunch of Centaurs manage to drag me into their trouble again?’ "Who’s attacking them? It’s not the Beastmen again, is it?"

’Even if it were Beastmen, it couldn’t be the same tribe as before. After all, under the leadership of that old Priest, they’ve become residents here. Who would be bored enough to go looking for trouble with Zandia in this freezing weather?’

"No, it’s another group of Centaurs. And..." Pergrande’s expression was one of indescribable sadness. "And Old Lei’s group."

When Ron gathered the others and rushed to the location—based on Pergrande’s rough description and where Sera had found her—they saw two groups of people, horses, and Centaurs engaged in a tense standoff by a small road. In the clearing between the two groups lay several bodies, indicating a real battle had already taken place.

But the physique of the Centaurs was clearly beyond that of ordinary races. Judging by the bodies on the ground, the pursuers had obviously not gotten the upper hand. Among the grim-faced Knights, Ron’s eyes were immediately drawn to the one who stood out from the rest.

Raymond Aron. He had clearly noticed Ron as well. ’To think we’d meet again under circumstances like these.’

"Lord Ron, I trust you’ve been well," Judge Aron said, bowing slightly from his saddle. "Forgive me for not dismounting. We are on official business today, which does not concern you. I must ask that you do not interfere."

"Your Molten Iron Religious Order is conducting official business on *my* territory?!" The moment Aron finished speaking, Ron unslung his bow. "Do you have any idea how far this is from the trade post? Do you have a permit for passage?!"

"This... My sincerest apologies," Aron said, but showed no intention of leaving. "We will compensate you afterward. I swear on the honor of the Molten Iron Barrier—"

"You’ve got it backward, Mr. Raymond," Ron sneered. "If it weren’t for you and Priest Pergrande, I wouldn’t have wasted a single word. Now, get out of here, immediately. Don’t make me ’ask’ you to leave."

"Aren’t you the ones who are all about upholding order? So what do you call this?!"

"The order of the Religious Order supersedes the laws of a local lord, Lord. My apologies," Aron sighed. "Also, allow me to remind you: neither these Centaurs nor Bishop Pergrande are your subjects. If you intend to drive us away, shouldn’t they be driven away as well?"

"Lord Ron..." Zandia turned her upper body, looking at Ron with worry. Of course she believed Ron was a good person, but faced with the pressure from the Molten Iron Barrier...

"Ron, stay out of this!" Kolzim, who was standing with Aron, shouted. He brandished his sword and shield threateningly. "The Religious Order is conducting its business, and we have our own tribal matters to deal with. You’d better stay far away!"

"You ungrateful, backstabbing wolf!" Before Ron could even speak, Sera, who was beside him, couldn’t help but curse. "You ate our food and took our supplies when you were here, and now you have the nerve to come back and tell *us* to stay away?"

The enraged barbarian threw back her wind-blocking hood. Revealing the Grip of the Vast Wave, she strode forward several steps and stood shoulder-to-shoulder with Zandia. She spoke in phrases she had only recently learned from merchants at the market, but her words were surprisingly aggressive: "Come on, come on! Just a few months ago, you were our prisoner. Let me see if that new master of yours got your bastard head in a wholesale deal!"