Pushing open the doors of the noisy tavern, Lilian was met with a rush of sour, fermented ale and the heavy, burnt aroma of roasted meat.
Lilian choked on her breath, nearly gagging. At least for the foreseeable future, she had no desire to see roasted meat ever again.
Glancing across the room, Lilian spotted Clara sitting at a corner table by the window, waving at her.
Seeing Lilian approach, Clara hurriedly stood up, holding out Lilian's money pouch with both hands, her small face filled with self-reproach.
“I'm sorry, Sister Li... I lost my own money pouch. If you hadn't given me yours earlier, I wouldn't even have had the money to book our rooms...”
Lilian smiled without answering, casually pulling out the wooden chair opposite Clara and sitting down.
Seeing that the Saintess showed not a trace of surprise, Clara's eyes widened.
“Could it be... Sister Li, you already knew! Is that why you deliberately left your pouch with me?”
On the table stood a poured glass of red berry juice. Lilian picked it up and took a small sip. It was cool, sweet, and sour, surprisingly tasty.
Setting down the glass, she spoke softly to Clara with a light laugh: “That's right. Your pouch was swiped by that little beggar earlier.”
Clara's cheeks puffed up like a blowfish.
“Why is he so bad! I clearly just saved him...”
The little nun slumped her head.
“Did I really do the right thing...”
Seeing that Clara was actively reflecting on her actions, Lilian felt the timing was right.
She put away her smile and looked at Clara.
“Clara, wanting to help others isn't wrong. But first, you must possess the ability to bear the consequences and protect yourself. If you can't even protect yourself and blindly place yourself in danger, that isn't kindness—that's stupidity.”
These blunt words made Clara hang her head even lower.
The little nun's entire face flushed red from the lecture.
Clutching the hem of her clothes with both hands, she apologized in a hushed, utmost sincere voice:
“I'm sorry, Sister Li. I really know I was wrong! I promise that before taking action next time, I'll definitely ask Saint... ask Sister Li first!”
Before her voice fully faded, the tavern master's hearty voice boomed beside the table.
“Hot and juicy pan-fried pork chops coming right up! Enjoy your meal, ladies!”
Two sizzling, oil-dripping thick-cut pork chops were heavily placed onto the table. The rich, overpowering meat aroma was enough to whet anyone's appetite—except Lilian's.
Lilian's jaw tightened, stomach acid rising in her throat. She picked up her cup and chugged down the entire glass of berry juice before finally easing the nausea.
She pushed her portion of the pork chop over to Clara, out of sight, out of mind.
“It's fine. I've taken care of everything. Eat first.”
“Sister Li, aren't you going to eat?”
“I'm not very hungry... You eat it all.”
With a red face, Clara nodded and picked up her dinner knife, though her eyes fell upon Lilian's empty waist.
The Saintess had returned empty-handed, without bringing back the stolen money pouch.
In Clara's mind, a deeply touching picture automatically pieced itself together.
The Saintess had not only seen through everything beforehand, but had also specifically followed after him upon leaving the tavern!
Yet after finding that little boy, she hadn't punished him. Instead, she must have used the gentlest words to guide him, keeping that poor child from straying completely onto the wrong path!
And as for why the money pouch wasn't brought back...
Clearly, the Saintess felt pity for the child's plight and, in the name of great love, had deliberately bestowed it upon the little beggar!
And here she had been, feeling upset over a few silver coins earlier...
Compared to the Saintess's noble, pure, and compassionate heart for all living beings, her own mindset was so narrow she felt ashamed to show her face!
The Saintess... was truly too kind!
Seeing Clara like this, Lilian let out a sigh of relief. If this girl's compassion flared up again, she would be the unlucky one suffering the consequences.
Holding back tears of emotion in her eyes, Clara picked up her knife and fork and devoured both plates of pork chops completely clean, even using bread to wipe up every last drop of black pepper sauce at the bottom of the plates.
Sitting opposite her, Lilian's eyelids twitched uncontrollably.
Just how was the stomach of a petite frame like hers constructed?
However, looking at the empty iron plates, Lilian's physical discomfort finally eased for the most part.
Clara wiped the corners of her mouth with a napkin and leaned in, lowering her voice:
“By the way, Sister Li, when I went downstairs to book the room earlier, I overheard something from the counter and a few mercenaries.”
“Speak.”
Lilian finished the last gulp of juice.
“Tomorrow at dawn, a joint merchant caravan bound for Morningbell City will set off from the town's east gate.”
Clara carefully glanced around and whispered:
“Supposedly, it was formed jointly by two merchant guilds and hired dozens of high-level mercenaries for escort. It's quite large in scale. As long as you pay a head fee of a few dozen copper coins, ordinary travelers can ride along on their freight carriages.”
“A caravan heading to Morningbell City?”
Lilian's interest was piqued.
Walking from Densewood Town to Morningbell City would take at least three to four days through the dangerous wilderness.
Although she had just dumped her attribute points into Constitution, who would willingly travel on foot when they could comfortably ride a carriage?
More importantly, her clone Little White, calculating by travel time, was about to arrive in Morningbell City.
If she, the genuine Saintess, was delayed too long on the road and caused Little White to blow her cover in Morningbell City, things would get very messy.
“Well done.”
Lilian patted Clara's head.
“Go book our spots for tomorrow morning. Turn in early tonight, and we'll follow the caravan tomorrow.”
“Yes! Sister Li!”
Flushed from the Saintess's praise, Clara took a silver coin and darted toward the front desk like the wind to handle the arrangements.
...
As night deepened, the noisy tavern gradually quieted down, but in a dark room filled with the pungent smell of hard liquor in the back street, the atmosphere was suffocatingly tense.
Thump!
A fleshy, large hand slammed a blood-stained dagger deep into a thick wooden table, sending wood chips flying.
“What did you say? Buck and Pete are dead?”
The man speaking was heavily built, a hideous black snake tattooed on his right arm.
He was Hawke, a notorious slave trader boss operating throughout the underground of several districts.
At his feet, a skinny subordinate knelt in the dirt:
“B-Boss, it's absolutely true! Right in the dead-end alley behind the tavern! Both brothers had their throats and foreheads burned through by fire, and their corpses were turned to charcoal... The pair of beastkin cubs that were supposed to be offered to Baron Zhar are gone too!”
“Fuck!!”
A whole thirty gold coins! A massive profit of thirty thousand copper coins!
Baron Zhar loved playing with rare young beastkin the most. If this deal went sour, not only would they fail to get that sky-high reward, but they might even enrage that noble!
“Who did it? Have you checked?” Hawke gritted his teeth.
Just then, the burly man who had been scared off by Lilian outside the tavern door earlier timidly poked his head out from the shadows, swallowed hard, and whispered:
“H-Hawke, boss... At dusk outside the tavern door, there was a fire mage wearing a gray cloak. Buck and the other being burned to charcoal was almost certainly that mage's doing!”
“A fire mage?”
The veins on Hawke's temples bulged.
“When did a mage arrive in a godforsaken dump like Densewood Town? No matter how strong she is, she's just one person! If I don't settle this score, people will think Hawke is soft!”
“Boss, calm down!”
A henchman beside him hurriedly stepped forward to dissuade him:
“Tomorrow morning we still have to escort that batch of freshly captured slaves to the Baron's territory to turn over the job! The 'miners' Baron Zhar requested are all locked in iron cages in the backyard! If we delay the caravan's schedule and the Baron blames us, we won't be able to handle it!”
Hawke took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down.
“Inform the boys to bring all their gear. Tomorrow morning, our carriages will join the caravan as planned!”
He pulled out the blood-stained dagger from the table.
“Tell the boys on guard to keep their eyes wide open! As long as we run into that piece of trash who uses fire magic on the road...”
“I'll personally chop off her limbs and throw her into an iron cage to feed the vicious dogs!”
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