The person in question answered him impatiently: "Soon."

"Mr. Craftsman, you and I are both believers in God. This escape was blessed by the Great Mother Tree. You are always so impatient and disrespectful to God!"

I never thought of paying homage to your mother-tree of desire!! My delicate stomach can’t handle these rough foods. A nobleman who has never traveled far has never walked such a long waterway. Sharf vomited eight hundred times along the way.

·Maxwell cursed in his heart, and had to put on a pious and repentant look on his face, and returned to his seat and stopped talking.

Great-great-uncle, this journey has been really difficult...!

As soon as Sharf started to complain in his heart, the scene where Traynor held his ears (making his feet almost off the ground) before leaving immediately appeared in his mind. He said with a ferocious face: "Do you know

You know how rare this opportunity is! Are you still picky here?"

"If, if Ciel has this opportunity, I will kill him even if I risk everything--"

Sharf felt that his ears began to have burning phantom pain. At that time, the old butler Turing rushed over to smooth things over, interrupting the second half of his great-great-uncle's sentence and saving his ears.

Of course he wanted to escape, but it was necessary to complain. Under the cover of a group of cultists, he left Trier incognito, hiding and walking through the mountains and forests along the way, and finally came out two days ago.

After arriving at the port, we successfully boarded the prepared ship and headed to a secret port near the Rhoside Islands.

When the time comes, someone from the Celestial Sect will come to pick him up.

After about two hours, Sharf looked at the sunlight filtering through the cracks in the deck above his head, gradually moving from the center to the east, which meant that the sun was setting in the west, and the carriage of the eternal blazing sun was about to leave the sky. It won't be long before the darkness of the night

The goddess will come at a leisurely pace.

In violent and brief turbulence, the ship docked.

Sharf was protected among them, and he followed the cultists off the boat. He saw that he was surrounded by a group of cultists who seemed to be mentally abnormal and capable of fighting. There was no one who came to help him as his great-great-uncle said.

The shadow of Sharf couldn't help but start beating a drum in his heart.

Haven't you come yet...

The cultists came around and surrounded him in the center. Sharf felt like a piece of meat being stared at by ferocious beasts.

While he does, probably, probably have a bit of a plump figure, this is a metaphor he doesn't want to accept at all!

Everyone walked in a hurry, and after leaving the private harbor, they entered the jungle without stopping. The hot and humid climate and the hurried walking made the pampered Sharf almost out of breath. He pulled off the hood of his cloak and took a big breath, breathing in his bellows-like

While panting, he suddenly distinguished a strange tone.

Immediately afterwards, the person walking at the front suddenly fell down.

Sharf was startled, and then he became energetic and searched for the real members of the pilgrim sect who came to pick him up. The cultists looked around warily and covered their ears, but that ethereal tone seemed to be able to directly

Rushing into their minds, they fell to the ground one after another, and in a blink of an eye, only Sharf was left standing.

Sharf was so curious that he squatted down and stretched out his hand to detect the breath of the nearest person, and was shocked to find that he had died!

Not only him, but everyone here has lost his breath, and was taken away by the weird tone!

"Pap." There was a gentle landing sound from the side, and a man in a light brown cloak jumped down from a high branch.

He raised his head and looked at each other with Sharf. Sharf could clearly see the outline of the other person's face, which was similar to that of a Loen man, as well as the dark skin color and dark curly hair unique to the Southern Continent race. The hair was also tied into many threads.

Small braids, either tied into a bunch or hanging down naturally.

"Are you a 'craftsman'?" he asked, holding a leaf in the corner of his mouth.

"Are you the person from the Pilgrimage Sect who came to pick me up?" Sharf breathed a sigh of relief, then became very curious, "Is that voice just now your extraordinary ability?"

After confirming that the other party was indeed his future companion, he relaxed a little, led the way with a cold face, and introduced himself: "Yes, I am an Extraordinary of the "Corpse Collector" path. Of course, we prefer to call him

It’s the path of death.”

"I am Garland De, the leader of the Rhoside Islands of the Pilgrimage Sect."

"I am Sharf Maxwell. My great-great-uncle Lord Traynor Soren Vaughan asked me to come."

Garland raised his eyebrows. He didn't expect this fat young man to have such a prominent life experience. But it doesn't matter. Now that he has left Intis and given up his status as a noble and his position as a priest, he and

There is no difference for ordinary people like me.

"Well, nice to meet you," he said.

"Welcome to the sea, welcome to Bayam, the original colonial city, the city of generosity, Mr. Sharf Maxwell."

TBC

——————

Graduation is approaching, I have been extremely busy these days, and there are a lot of things to do in the next week...

I don’t have time to write with peace of mind!!!!
Chapter completed!