Practice

The head priest's words stirred some discussion.

He was getting on in years, so stepping down was only natural. What people cared about more was who would become the next head priest. After all, to most people here, the position of head priest was even more important than that of town mayor.

"Will the next head priest be Priest Gerald?" a rash young man asked.

Priest Green's expression visibly stiffened for a moment at the question.

The old priest, however, kept smiling, with no emotion visible on his face. "That isn't for me to decide. We need to wait for the appointment letter from South County Monastery."

"All right, everyone, go home."

The Baptism Ceremony ended, and people gradually dispersed. Only a few servants responsible for cleaning remained in the nave, along with Priests Green and Gerald.

"Green, if the monastery doesn't choose you, will you still stay in Driftwood Town?" Priest Gerald always wore a smile. He was about the same age as Green, but looked much younger.

Grimm's face remained expressionless. "You're that confident?"

Gerald shrugged. "I never said it'd definitely be me. The monastery might send someone neither of us knows to be head priest. After all, we're both only Level 2 priests. We're somewhat underqualified to lead the church."

"Maybe." Priest Green neither agreed nor disagreed, then turned and left.

After leaving the nave, he returned to his room and sat silently in his chair for a long while.

After some time, he pulled a note from a thick book on the shelf and spread it open in his palm. Written on it were the stark words: If one of two must be chosen, death shall descend upon you.

As Priest Green stared at the faded words on the note, his expression flickered uncertainly—the words recorded there were a prophecy that had troubled him for many years.

Was the prophecy about to come true?

At that thought, Priest Green's hand tightened. The note crumpled in his grip, then tore apart...

The next day, outside the church.

Gagnor saw Ryan off, and the two stood there chatting for a while.

Ryan suddenly asked, "How old are you this year?"

"Sixteen," Gagnor said.

Ryan looked him over again, then laughed. "If we'd only just met, I definitely wouldn't have doubted that number. Honestly, you don't feel sixteen at all. Twenty-six would be more like it."

Gagnor said, "A lot of people say that."

Ryan seemed to consider something. After a moment, he asked, "Do you have a segment of Sage Name?"

"A sage?" Gagnor had rarely heard that word.

Ryan explained, "So-called sages are, simply put, a group of noble wise men who don't believe in gods. They almost only exist in ancient legends—just like angels, in that respect. I've met someone who possessed Sage Name before. They were intelligent, quick to learn, and mentally mature at a young age, just like you."

Gagnor fell into thought at that.

Ryan looked around, then leaned closer. "What I want to remind you is that the church's current tolerance isn't normal. Just fifty years ago, the church treated sages almost the same way it treated demons... So if you really have a segment of Sage Name, you'd better not stay at the church. Otherwise, there may be only one new Pope between you and the stake."

The stake!

Gagnor's heart tightened.

He had lived in the church and knew very little of the Mosa Church's dark history, but recalling what he had seen and heard about religion in his previous life, it didn't seem all that surprising.

"Thanks for the warning." After thinking for a moment, he asked quietly, "If someone with Sage Name wanted to stay away from the church, where do you think they should go? South Sea Town?"

Ryan didn't answer. He merely smiled and patted Gagnor on the shoulder. "The more dangerous the place, the freer it is."

Just then, Raymond happened to pass by carrying a large box on his shoulder. He was clearly doing volunteer work again.

"Are you leaving, Ryan?" Raymond adjusted the box on his shoulder and asked between gasps.

"Yeah. Thanks again for your help." Ryan waved as he gradually disappeared into the distance. "Until we meet again, Raymond, Gagnor. May the light be with you!"

"Goodbye!" Gagnor and Raymond waved back as well.

With Ryan gone, Gagnor's life returned to its usual dull routine. He repeated roughly the same things every day, though those things weren't quite the same as before.

For example, he now set aside some time every day to practice Feign Death.

As a hypnotic technique, Feign Death depended almost entirely on the spirit attribute.

As a transmigrator, Gagnor had been born with a spirit attribute far higher than that of ordinary people. With Cognition's boost on top of that, he practiced Feign Death very quickly.

Moreover, practicing Feign Death had no environmental requirements. He could do it during lunch breaks or at night, and it also let him rest at the same time, making it very convenient.

Before long, Gagnor had raised Feign Death to Lv. 3.

After Feign Death reached Lv. 3, he examined his attributes again.

Holy Name: Adakonyanus

Level: 1

Physique: 9/20

Spirit: 20/20

Strength: 9/20

Intelligence: 16/20

Agility: 11/20

Experience: 98/100

Lv. 3 Feign Death Lv. 3 Herbalism

Lv. 1 Archery Lv. 1 Skinning

Each upgrade of Feign Death granted 1 point of spirit growth. After three upgrades, Gagnor's spirit had reached a full 20 points, the current cap.

That being the case, continuing to raise Feign Death wasn't worth it. Moreover, Feign Death's Level 4 pain removal was far more troublesome to practice than the first three levels. After some thought, Gagnor decided to pause his Feign Death training.

He should raise his own level first. Gagnor really wanted to know what he would gain after leveling up.

He was only 2 experience points away from leveling up.

There were many ways to gain experience, such as hunting beasts. But for him right now, the safest method was undoubtedly to improve his skills.

After checking the few skills he currently had, Gagnor decided to practice Archery.

No sooner said than done.

Gagnor immediately took his bow and arrows, found a large tree near the church, and began practicing.

"Whoosh—whoosh—"

As he loosed arrow after arrow, his Archery proficiency began to rise.

Lv. 1 Archery: 69/100

Lv. 1 Archery: 70/100

Raymond's loud voice suddenly came from afar. "Gagnor, someone fell and got hurt! They need you to treat the wound!"

"Coming." Gagnor sighed, then put away his bow and arrows and hurried over.

Since Herbalism had risen to Lv. 3, he could now make various potions, including Healing Stones. Under Priest Green's instructions, he had almost completely taken over Green's free clinic duties as a church priest. Every day, he spent a great deal of time treating townspeople for headaches, fevers, bruises, sprains, and even various psychological problems.

All in all, this was a bad thing.

After all, Gagnor wasn't as fond of volunteering as Raymond was. He didn't like doing work that paid nothing.

Of course, strictly speaking, it wasn't entirely unpaid. Some patients would voluntarily give him a few copper coins after being cured—though these were probably better called tips.

As a result, Gagnor earned roughly thirty copper coins a month, less than the town blacksmith made in a day. He was truly a beast of burden among beasts of burden.

But for now, he had no choice.

Church-raised acolytes usually had to work for the church without pay until they were eighteen before they could choose their own lives.

Of course, he could also secretly leave Driftwood Town in the dead of night. No one would hunt him down for it; it wouldn't even count as a crime. But with his current strength, even the ordinary beasts of Driftwood Forest could drive him back.