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Klein had already made out the face of the ascetic holding the candlestick with his Beyonder vision. He was a weather-beaten-looking man, with fine wrinkles covering his forehead and the corners of his eyes and mouth. He certainly looked the part of an ascetic.
Strangely, however, there was also a hideous old scar on his cheek. The ascetic did not have a single white hair. His hair, like his eyes, was a glossy and exceedingly rare pure black, gleaming in the firelight.
He looked weathered, but not old.
Someone with such contradictory yet harmonious qualities possessed at least one of two things: great power or extensive experience. Most of the time, they possessed both.
I wasn't looking for trouble, but trouble came looking for me? That was Klein's first reaction. If this seemingly powerful ascetic belonged to any church, he would surely have declared his faith. After all, this was the vast dream world of the Gods' War Ruins, concealing countless dangers and powerful beings. Even followers of Storm and the Eternal Blazing Sun, mortal enemies that they were, would not start fighting to the death immediately after exchanging identities.
In other words, this seemingly kindly and gentle ascetic did not belong to an Orthodox Church, but to some secret organization.
Therefore, both the ascetic's allegiance and identity were difficult to determine, and his uncorroborated words were hard to believe.
No longer an inexperienced rookie, Klein did not answer immediately. He maintained some distance from the ascetic, whose age he could not determine, and said warily:
"Working with someone of unknown origins isn't a rational course of action."
Faced with Klein's probing remark, the ascetic paused briefly before naturally picking up the conversation.
"That was indeed impolite of me." The ascetic raised the candlestick slightly and said calmly, "I