Confession

"Lord Greiman, all those scenes displayed in your mind—surely they came from God Country, didn't they?"

The spellcaster named Derson stared at Paul with shining eyes.

Paul shook his head. "I'm neither a god nor from God Country."

But the spellcaster sitting across from him still wore an expression that said, You can't fool me.

Paul could only give up on correcting his misconception. "Speaking of which, Mr. Derson, how should I deal with you?"

The spellcaster jolted. "Huh?"

Paul threatened him. "Even if you didn't actually harm me, you did intend to do so. At the very least, this counts as an attempted attack, doesn't it?"

"Oh! Lord Greiman, I confess my guilt!"

"You... confessed that readily?"

"Yes, I'm guilty! I'm willing to accept any punishment you give me! Otherwise, I wouldn't have come to see you the moment I regained consciousness. I had already considered all the possible consequences before coming here!"

The spellcaster's face was utterly sincere. He was not pretending.

"This..." Paul no longer knew what to say.

A look of yearning appeared on Derson's face.

"Although this may be somewhat shameless, I still wish to ask you to grant me a chance—a chance to atone for my sins. I hope to offer you my loyalty and become your servant, remaining at your side to witness the birth of countless miracles and contribute my own insignificant strength."

Was this the legendary eruption of King's Aura, with a lackey bowing down in submission? Paul asked in confusion, "What's your motive for doing this? Why would you abandon your fellow spellcasters?"

"Lord Greiman, the things in your mind are real and achievable. Although I only glimpsed a small part of them, I know that you must have a clear path mapped out in your heart. To me, rather