Roland sighed, pulling a Silver Coin from his coin purse and pressing it into Peyton’s hand.
"Uncle Peyton, consider this covering her al. Please give it to Uncle Gary later."
"Hey, kid! I can’t take this. If Gary finds out, he’ll kill ..."
"Just take it, Uncle Peyton... Otherwise, I..."
As Roland spoke, his gaze shifted to the mountain of dishes piled up beside Teresa.
And that wasn’t all. A nearby wooden table was already overflowing with used plates.
At this sight, not only did the corner of Roland’s mouth twitch, but his eye began to twitch uncontrollably as well.
Based on his experience helping out in the tavern these past few days, Roland made a quick ntal calculation.
The beautiful, silver-haired woman before him had, in a short period, eaten through three days’ worth of the tavern’s revenue.
Even more terrifying...
She showed no signs of stopping and was still ordering more food.
’No wonder her life is so difficult...’
’At this rate, the reward from a single commission would probably only cover her food for two or three days...’
Following Roland’s gaze, Peyton also noticed the disastrous "battlefield."
The old rcenary was silent for a mont before finally taking the Silver Coin from Roland. He gave Roland’s shoulder a aningful pat.
"Kid, getting involved with a woman like this... you’d better pray for your own good fortune from now on..."
Roland ignored the suggestive look in Peyton’s eyes. Instead, he pushed so food from his own plate to feed Qiao, who was staring eagerly from the table, then narrowed his eyes and offered a reminder.
"Uncle Peyton, this is for Uncle Gary’s food costs. Don’t you go pocketing it for yourself."
"Hey! You little brat! What’s that supposed to an? Am I that kind of person?"
Peyton imdiately jumped up to object.
As the two bickered, Gary erged from the kitchen.
The honest-looking man wiped the sweat from his brow, a broad smile on his face as he carried a freshly cooked steak over to Teresa.
"Here you are, Miss Teresa! The steak you ordered!"
"Thank you, Mr. Gary!"
Teresa cheerfully took the plate and continued to feast with gusto.
Watching Teresa eat with such relish, a look of gratification appeared in Gary’s eyes.
For a man who’d gone from being a butcher to a tavern owner, eting a custor like Teresa, who genuinely appreciated his craft, was a truly delightful experience.
"Would you like another, Miss Teresa? If it’s not enough, I can..."
"This is more than enough, Mr. Gary. Thank you so much."
"Don’t ntion it!"
Gary waved his hand cheerfully and began clearing plates, humming an off-key tune.
But when he caught sight of his idle younger brother out of the corner of his eye, the burly man’s pleasant expression instantly soured.
"Peyton! What are you still standing there for, you lout? Get over here and help clean up!"
"You old coot! I’ve told you before, I’m not one of your employees!"
Peyton grumbled under his breath but still obediently went over to help clear the ss.
In that brief mont, Teresa had already devoured the new steak completely.
"Ahem..."
She gave a light cough, took out a pristine white silk handkerchief from her clothes, and elegantly dabbed the corners of her mouth. With a hint of embarrassnt, she asked.
"Mr. Roland, did I... eat a little too much?"
Seeing the unnatural blush spread across the silver-haired woman’s fair face, Roland managed to force a smile.
"Not... not too much..."
’Just about ten days’ worth of my food.’
He added silently to himself.
Shaking off these complicated thoughts, Roland tapped his fingers lightly on the wooden table and said seriously.
"Miss Teresa, since you’ve finished your al, shall we discuss the specific requirents I have for this commission?"
"Please, go on."
As the conversation turned to business, Teresa imdiately reverted to her previous cold and indifferent expression.
"Regarding the reward, I won’t take a single coin, but I have one condition..."
Roland casually handed the plate in front of Teresa to Peyton, who had co to clear the table. After Peyton and Gary had both gone back into the kitchen, he lowered his voice and continued.
"When the ti cos, all Demons present must be dealt with by my own hand."
"You only need to observe from the side and prevent any accidents."
Hearing these words, Teresa was slightly taken aback. Her gaze then turned vacant as she looked at sothing behind Roland.
A mont later, she looked back at the young man before her, a hint of suspicion in her eyes.
"Forgive my impertinence, Mr. Roland, but you wouldn’t happen to be... a follower of Shire, would you?"
’Shire?’
’The goddess who presides over death and Annihilation?’
Recalling the contents of the ancient texts, Roland shook his head.
He had made such a request solely to satisfy the conditions for becoming a [Knight’s Attendant], and it had nothing to do with faith.
"Of course not."
Seeing his firm denial, Teresa let out an almost imperceptible sigh of relief, but her eyes still held a trace of doubt.
"Then... I accept your request. However... do you believe in any of the Gods?"
The question clearly startled Roland.
"Why do you ask?"
"Because..."
Teresa’s gaze beca vacant again as her slender finger pointed behind Roland.
"I saw... there is so kind of indescribable Power clinging to you. In fact, I sensed it when we first t, but..."
She furrowed her brow slightly and narrowed her eyes, as if trying to get a clearer look.
"The aura wasn’t nearly as dense then as it is now, and..."
Teresa’s voice trailed off.
"This Power... it’s sowhat similar to the great power bestowed upon by Ogma, the God of Truth..."
"Oh?"
Roland let out a soft, questioning hum.
He believed Teresa wouldn’t make sothing like this up, so he carefully thought back on all his experiences since he transmigrated.
Yet, after thinking it over and over, he still couldn’t find anything unusual.
The only possible connection was the mysterious mastermind behind the Truth Church.
’Could that have been a God?’
The mont the thought appeared, Roland chuckled and shook his head.
Although he had never seen one of the Gods in person, since they were called Gods, they must possess supre power.
Even an avatar would hardly be sothing that could be defeated with a single [Flaming Arrow].
Pushing this absurd guess to the back of his mind, Roland asked a few more questions about the mysterious Power.
But Teresa said that the great power she had obtained was incomplete, and she was powerless to explain it further.
Since the topic had turned to the Gods, Roland took the opportunity to ask a question that had been nagging him for a long ti.
He tapped his fingertips on the table, the rhythm as regular as a pendulum. The sound was exceptionally clear in the quiet dining room.
"Miss Teresa, you once ntioned that your special ability is a gift from the Gods, so..."
He paused slightly, his gaze profound.
"Do the Gods have the ability to descend upon the mortal world?"
"Regarding your question..."
Teresa furrowed her brow slightly, her long fingers unconsciously tracing the rim of her teacup.
She was silent for a long ti before finally sighing and shaking her head.
"I’m sorry, Mr. Roland, I can’t give you a definite answer. The truth is..."
The silver-haired woman’s gaze suddenly beca distant, as if lost in so faraway mory.
"Even this great power, the one that allows to perceive others’ pasts, ca to suddenly one night. It was like... a dream."
"A dream?"
"Yes."
Teresa nodded gently, her silver hair swaying slightly with the movent.
"In just one night, I went from being a holess traveler to the Saintess of the Truth Church..."
When she ntioned the "Truth Church," the corners of her lips tightened involuntarily, and a flash of disgust crossed her eyes.
"This gift not only granted a special ability but also greatly enhanced my physical condition, but..."
Her voice suddenly dropped, and her fingers unconsciously drifted to her flat stomach.
"When a mortal obtains such Power, there is always a price to pay."
Roland noticed her fingertips were trembling slightly.
"Just as you saw earlier, the Truth Church calls it... Gluttony."
’Gluttony?’
The word reminded Roland of the seven deadly sins from his past life.
He asked for a few more details, but Teresa’s answers remained vague.
Realizing he wouldn’t get any more information, he opportunely changed the subject.
"Then, what do you know about the Truth Church?"
"Them?"
Teresa sneered, the disdain in her eyes practically overflowing.
"They’re just a bunch of parasites swindling people under the banner of the Gods. As soon as I saw through that, I left the place imdiately."
Roland frowned slightly and briefly recounted his experience at Distant Harbor.
However, after listening to his account, Teresa looked confused.
"I’m sorry, Mr. Roland..."
She pondered for a mont, then slowly shook her head.
"I don’t know the mysterious person you’re talking about. In fact, I’ve been away from the Truth Church for several years. At least, when I left, the person in charge was a complete and utter fraud..."
"I see..."
Although he hadn’t managed to get any valuable information from Teresa, Roland’s expression remained calm.
He gently set down his teacup, the base making a soft, dull thud against the wooden table.
"Uncle Gary has already arranged a place for you to stay."
He stood up, the candlelight casting a flickering Shadow on his well-defined profile.
"Get a good night’s rest. We set out to hunt the Demons at dawn."
Teresa tilted her head up, her silver hair shimring with a soft luster in the candlelight.
"Thank you, Mr. Roland."
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