When the plot-skips players into the game world

Listening to the conversation between Rabih and Sherlock, Aiwass realized another matter.

If one were to say that the Beast Song Tribe ranked within the top three or even top five...

Aiwass fell into deep thought.

Undoubtedly, while Old Rabih was shrewd and cunning, he definitely wasn't at the Fifth Power Level.

And although Bram had stolen the strength equivalent to that of the Fifth Power Level from the Wildfire Giant... he himself was only at the Fourth Power Level.

The current tribal leader didn't even dare to provoke Bram when his own father was captured. Clearly, he wasn't at the Fifth Power Level either. Such a tribe could possibly rank in the top three on the southern continent.

...Does that mean that all the Fifth Power Level individuals on the entire southern continent added up to less than three?

No wonder the Irisflower People and the Goblins roamed unchecked there...

And according to what Young Rabih said, other than the Avalonians, whether it's the Irisflower People or the people from Star Antimony… even those from the Parthians to the east of the desert, they all had their own forces on the southern continent.

It was quite normal after all, since many materials for rites, magic potions, and curse poisons came from the southern continent.

Avalon had previously restricted the development of other Paths, so they didn't care about these resources.

But for those with Transcendence, Balance, and Love from Star Antimony; those with Adaptation and Love from Iris Flower; and the Parthian Ancient Country, which also had the traits of Transcendence and Adaptation, they were all in great need of these materials.

Next time I see Isabel, I will mention this matter to her. It's not urgent, but merchants act slowly; it will take several professional research reports before people can be rallied...

As Aiwass pondered, several individuals walked out of the room.

One could see that both Bram and Rabih's necks and hands were shackled with the triangle light manacles that Aiwass was all too familiar with – that was the Binding Spell of the Path of Authority, which they realized through Divine Arts.

Unlike Rabih, Bram's spirit visibly slumped, and he was also biting down on a light pillar, rendering him unable to speak. His mouth was sunken inwards, a sign of being toothless.

To make someone bite down on a rod with a mouth full of no teeth... It seems Elves weren't as purely kind and weak as Aiwass had thought.

Seeing this, Young Rabih nervously approached and asked fluently in Elvish Language, "May I ask, what is this for? Why are you taking my grandfather away, too?"

"He committed a crime as well,"

Pure White replied, "He cast a curse on Zumaidi."

"… Didn't Zumaidi forgive him?"

At this, Young Rabih's brow furrowed slightly as he looked towards the red-skinned Zumaidi.

Only in this moment did he truly appear to be the young heir to the tribe.

Zumaidi, in a state of panic, shook his head repeatedly, bowed, waved his hands, and had sweat streaming down his face while making gurgling noises.

However, with just a simple sentence, Old Rabih stopped Zumaidi's explanation and drew Young Rabih's gaze to himself.

The old Troll murmured a few admonishing words.

Then he lowered his head to look towards Aiwass and the others, and in fluent and standard Avalonian, said, "Of course Zumaidi has forgiven me. I'm just going to hide to avoid the storm."

"Avoid the storm?"

Aiwass was momentarily taken aback.

Bram had been captured, what storm was there to avoid?

But this old Giant was indeed no simpleton; Aiwass didn't dare ignore his words completely and could only take note of it for the time being.

The last person who had given Aiwass this type of pressure was his foster father, Professor Moriarty.

"You don't need to worry about the damage to the buildings here, an Archbishop will come later for repairs. If you're interested, you can watch, if not, you may leave for now..."

Pure White said softly to Aiwass, "Tomorrow I will go find Yanis... you can come too if you want. It would be fitting to have you as a witness."

After tasting Aiwass's dates, she clearly valued him highly now. Even for a conversation that involved personal privacy, she was willing to take Aiwass with her.

However, as "a" witness... this also implied that Sherlock and Lily couldn't come along.

"Certainly, I will be there,"

Aiwass nodded without hesitation, gladly accepting the invitation.

He never missed out on watching the excitement.

Thus, the group escorting the prisoners departed from before Aiwass.

But just as they brushed past each other, the old Giant suddenly spoke up in Avalonian, whispering, "You are much stronger than your father."

"...What?"

Aiwass was taken aback.

After glancing at Sherlock, he confirmed that Old Rabih was speaking to him.

He quickly turned his head back to look at the old Giant's retreating figure.

My... father?

"Which of my fathers do you know?"

"Are you referring to Priest Julio, or... Professor Moriarty?"

"If it's the former, how could he possibly know Old Rabih?"

"And if it's the latter... Aiwass didn't really feel he deserved an evaluation 'much stronger than Professor Moriarty.'"

But Old Rabih didn't explain himself. After saying this, he hunched his back and left with The Holy Maiden and the Papal Guard. Young Rabih also waved to Aiwass and then left with his grandfather.

"Was he talking about Professor Moriarty?"

After he left, Sherlock said softly, "Has the professor also been to the southern continent?"

"...I actually suspect," Aiwass watched the old Troll's retreating figure, "that he's connected to the Controlled Flame Movement."

—A brief death, or perhaps life at a standstill.

It was a fierce yet meaningless resistance against the very fate of being amberficated.

To stir the originally placid lake into murkiness and agitation... this is a fire that forces everyone to leave their place, but at the same time, it's a Controlled Flame.

Aiwass thought this through, while Sherlock, standing beside him, also pondered quietly.

After a moment, Aiwass put his hand on Sherlock's shoulder, "Alright, stop thinking about it. Let's go grab something to eat... looks like we've been ditched here by Her Highness."

"She's probably in a hurry to ask about that Troll, which is important."

Sherlock casually said, "Where do we go after eating? Find Miss Freya or... that man?"

"Let's go see my sister first. Master Yanis should be there too."

Aiwass replied, "If Pure White gets things wrong, we might not see Master Yanis after tomorrow. Let's meet her while she's still unresponsive to stress."

"Okay."

Sherlock nodded in agreement.

The Fifth Ring was much quieter in terms of foot traffic compared to the First Ring.

However, there were still quite a few eateries around, and they soon found a curry shop run by Lizardfolk. Lily had never had such food before, and Sherlock had tried it on a trip to Irisflower, so he skilfully ordered mild.

As for Aiwass, he unhesitatingly went for extra spicy.

It must be said, at least in terms of food, the Holy Nation was much better than Avalon. Having spent so many years in Avalon, the most delicious thing Aiwass had ever eaten was Irisflower cuisine. He could never quite understand Ligeia's enjoyment of fried chicken and fish... even the Irisflower dishes felt bland to him.

Of course, there's also the fact that spices were expensive in Avalon. After all, Avalon could only buy spices from the Star Antimony and Irisflower People, not directly from the Goblins.

However, as Avalon opens up trade routes on the southern continent, this situation might change somewhat.

...It might change a bit. Probably.

Aiwass wasn't too sure about that.

They didn't know the exact location of Freya but, as an Archbishop, Aiwass's words still held weight in the Holy Nation. They just had to inquire a few Elves that seemed like they might know her, and they easily found a clue.

The helpful Elves were quite willing to assist Aiwass, so by relaying information from one to another and changing guides four times, the Elves made sure they were escorted to their destination.

However, it was clear from their casual conversation along the way that their evaluation of Freya seemed a bit odd:

"Ah, that oddball... I don't really interact much with her."

"Archbishop, are you going to treat Miss Freya?"

"At this time, Freya might still not have woken up. If she's still asleep, you can come to my laboratory to have a look, it's just next door."

They soon arrived at Freya's laboratory.

Though called a laboratory, it looked more like a huge wooden villa from the outside.

After declining the warm invitation of the enthusiastic Elf lady, Aiwass still accepted a bag of fruit she offered.

It was a purple-red soft fruit that looked like a nectarine or a pear. It was apparently a new variety she had developed.

It smelled quite fresh, but Aiwass had just seen Bram drink a glass of wine with a similar red sphere in it, and now thinking back made it a bit stomach-churning.

Having bid farewell to the white-robed Elf researcher, silent Sherlock finally commented:

"...Not awake after twelve?"

"That is indeed preposterous..."

Aiwass nodded, his expression also becoming strange: What kind of summer vacation schedule is this?

He became curious about this sister he'd "never met."

And moreover... did she have some chronic illness or injury that required the Archbishop's healing?

Even to the extent that the Elves passing by all seemed to think she needed the Archbishop to personally administer the treatment…

With these thoughts, Aiwass knocked on the villa's door.