Heragol quickly noticed Gawain's gaze, but his excellent composure kept any displeasure from showing on the Dragon Priest's face. He merely shifted half a step aside and asked curiously, "What is it? Is there something improper about my appearance?"
Gawain swiftly recovered from his shock. He forcibly suppressed the astonishment and surging speculations in his heart, offering only a slightly apologetic smile. "Sorry, you may resemble someone I once knew—but I must have mistaken you for someone else."
"Is that so?" Heragol nodded. "There are countless people in the world. Even across two continents as distant as Tarlonnd and Loren, it is understandable for similar faces to appear. If there is an opportunity, I would very much like to meet the person who resembles me."
As he spoke, the Dragon Priest made an inviting gesture and turned to lead the way. Gawain followed and casually said, "I'm afraid that won't be possible—due to certain personal reasons, the person I knew has most likely been dead for several centuries."
This persona of someone who had climbed out of his coffin really was useful sometimes, especially when he wanted to make up a lie involving lifespan, time, or acquaintances—Gawain could not help but reflect on that as he silently calculated how many fictional friends he had stirred up after his "resurrection," only for them to later die in the river of time because the plot required it...
"...I see. That is truly regrettable," Heragol said, clearly harboring no suspicion. The leader of the priests merely nodded slightly as he led Gawain deeper into the corridor. "I never leave Tarlonnd, and thus rarely come into contact with people from beyond Tarlonnd. If I offend any of you in conversation due to differences in race or culture, please forgive me."
"But your common tongue