Chapter 364 Sudden Change

"This Moin... his prestige in Sheep Horn Town is quite extraordinary."

Walking side by side on the way back to the inn, Margaret spoke to Xia Nan with pointed meaning.

By now, evening had arrived.

The afterglow of the setting sun drifted down, blanketing the rough bluestone street in a layer of golden light.

After leaving the Orange Orchard, the two had visited the relay station, the trade street, and various other planned locations to investigate.

Although they couldn't claim any groundbreaking discoveries, they had gained a much more comprehensive understanding of Sheep Horn Town itself, as well as the old cleric Moin who worshipped the [Grain Goddess].

First, and most crucially.

Xia Nan's theory from that morning had been further confirmed.

The disgust displayed by the innkeeper, the blacksmith, and the peasant woman when mentioning anything related to the Pastel Gemstone was not an isolated incident.

As they investigated around town, the two had conducted varying degrees of tests.

The results... were exactly as expected.

From the sheriff in the center of town down to the beggars on the street, everyone, without exception, showed resistance to discussing anything related to the gemstone.

Even if they only skirted the topic, the townspeople's previously amiable reactions would suddenly grow agitated, revealing a certain level of verbal and physical hostility toward Xia Nan and Margaret.

Sure enough, all the residents of Sheep Horn Town had been controlled by the Pastel Gemstone, their cognition altered.

No wonder the rumors had been circulating for so long, yet only the single gemstone in Horac's hands had ever made it out.

This invisible web bound the entire town together in a collective cover-up of a specific object. Even for Class Holders like them, if they hadn't noticed it beforehand and gone looking for evidence to support their answer, they might not have discovered a thing.

Second, they had gathered more information regarding Cleric Moin.

They learned that this white-haired old man with tremendous prestige in Sheep Horn Town was not a native. Rather, he had been assigned here by Church headquarters about forty years ago, making him roughly seventy or eighty years old now.

Over these forty years, he had displayed the perfect demeanor expected of a cleric serving the lady Chantier.

Healing injured hunters, teaching farmers more efficient and labor-saving agricultural techniques, helping orchardists increase their yields...

Year after year of such deeds had built Moin's prestige in the town to an exaggerated degree—especially once the younger generation who had grown up under his care came of age and became the pillars of Sheep Horn Town.

Even the so-called mayor and sheriff couldn't hold a candle to the white-haired old man in terms of pure prestige.

To put it to the extreme, if any outsider dared to publicly utter disrespectful or insulting remarks about the cleric, it wouldn't be impossible to find them tied up and hanged from an orange tree by angry townspeople the very next day.

"Because of this, the situation has become even stranger."

Margaret's eyes were thoughtful as she recalled the townspeople's earlier reactions.

"To become a cleric under the [Goddess of Agriculture]'s sect and be dispatched to oversee a Church in a small town like this means his conduct and character met the Church's standards."

"At the very least, forty years ago when Moin first arrived in Sheep Horn Town, he must have been a qualified cleric. The deeds spoken of by the townspeople over the years prove this point."

"Horac mentioned earlier that the rumors of the Pastel Gemstone first surfaced half a year ago—just a few months back."

"But before that, for forty whole years, Moin's image among the townspeople was always that of a friendly, selfless, and highly respected cleric."

"There's no reason his personality would change so drastically in just a few months, allowing or even secretly helping the gemstone spread through the town and control the residents' minds."

After listening carefully to the female Swordsman's complete analysis, Xia Nan pondered for a moment before slowly replying.

"You're saying... Cleric Moin has also been charmed by the gemstone and had his cognition altered?"

Margaret nodded.

"Otherwise, there's no logical reason."

"Even if he were a 'bad guy' in the worldly sense, I don't think anyone would have the patience to force a facade for forty years, waiting until they had one foot in the grave to reveal their true colors."

"Besides, to be honest..." Margaret paused and turned her head slightly, her gaze sweeping over the somewhat dilapidated and sparse buildings lining the street, a strange look in her eyes.

"Even if he was faking it, he's still a legitimate cleric blessed with divine grace. Spending forty years just for a remote small town that even nearby villagers probably couldn't name..."

"It just isn't worth it."

Xia Nan didn't reply.

Margaret's considerations were extremely thorough, and her reasoning was convincing.

Given the current situation in Sheep Horn Town, her theory that Cleric Moin's cognition had been altered by the gemstone really did seem like the most plausible explanation.

But for some reason, Xia Nan felt the truth wasn't that simple.

After all, the Adventurer Squad that took the gemstone out of Sheep Horn Town and sold it to Horac in Nym had already proven that the Pastel Gemstone's influence on Class Holders was limited.

Had Moin truly been mind-controlled by the gemstone's charm just like those townspeople?

At this moment, what surfaced in his mind was the Goddess's holy symbol swaying on Moin's chest during their first encounter that morning, the brilliant light the Pastel Gemstone had radiated when Horac first displayed it to everyone, and from that morning...

That lush, leafy branch forcibly grafted onto the trunk of the orange tree, thriving yet bearing a twisted scar.

He kept walking, his head lowered slightly as a thoughtful glint flashed through his eyes.

...

...

With Thordin, a Level 4 Class Holder, serving as his personal bodyguard, caravan owner Horac naturally didn't run into any trouble.

When Xia Nan and Margaret returned to the inn at their prearranged time, Horac had already prepared a rich feast and was waiting for them at the table.

Not in a hurry to eat, Xia Nan pulled a Sugar Tangerine from his waist pouch. The young girl at the orchard that morning had been extraordinarily enthusiastic, insisting on giving them a large basket. She claimed they had plenty left over every year, and rather than letting them rot on the ground, it was better to give them away as gifts.

Unable to decline, Xia Nan had casually stuffed a few into his pouch.

Peeling the fruit, he asked Thordin,

"How was it? Any unusual situations?"

Hearing this, the dwarf shook his head. "What could happen? I sat there all day, barely even saw any outsiders. Not a single surprise."

"However..."

He stopped mid-sentence and hesitated, as if debating whether this matter was worth reporting.

"If you're unsure, just spit it out," Margaret said. Knowing her teammate's personality well, she took a seat at the table and shot him a glance.

"It's like this." Sure enough, the dwarf Thordin stopped hesitating and spoke up immediately.

"This morning, after you left, the innkeeper came over on his own."

"We didn't chat much, but according to Horac, the guy's attitude was a bit weird."

Beside him, the wealthy merchant nodded repeatedly, his expression serious.

"Yesterday, when we first arrived in Sheep Horn Town—before Mr. Xia Nan helped me break free from that damn thing's mind control—I asked the innkeeper to help gather intelligence on the Pastel Gemstone."

"But back then, he showed extreme disgust. He practically kicked me out and didn't say another word about it."

"I was desperate to find the gemstone mine at the time, so I didn't think much of it."

"But this morning, after you went out, he approached me unprompted. He claimed there might be news about the thing I was asking after and told me to stay a few more days. His attitude was completely different from before, and I found it quite strange."

Hearing this, Xia Nan immediately grew alert.

"So you refused him?"

"Of course! We can't hide the caravan rushing to offload goods and restock supplies. He must already know we intend to leave. If I tried to fake it and play along, wouldn't that just arouse suspicion?"

"The crux of the problem... doesn't lie there." Margaret, sitting at the table, seemed to realize why Xia Nan was on high alert. Her brows knit closely together in a grim expression.

"You have to consider one possibility."

"If this so-called 'news about the intelligence' was just a front, could his real goal have been to use the Pastel Gemstone info to test whether you've truly broken free of its mind control?"

After all, if he was still under the gemstone's charm, he would absolutely never refuse upon hearing related news.

Horac's sudden change of plans—canceling his long stay in Sheep Horn Town to leave as soon as possible—had already sparked the innkeeper's suspicion.

That daytime probe was likely enough for the innkeeper to confirm that the caravan leader really had completely shaken off the Pastel Gemstone's influence.

It had to be said that Margaret and Xia Nan's theory bordered on a conspiracy. It elevated the innkeeper from a fellow gemstone victim to someone aligned with the unseen culprit spreading the gems.

But hearing her frame it that way, Horac finally realized this extreme possibility.

He froze, his gaze subconsciously drifting toward the front counter.

As if sensing his gaze...

Standing behind the counter, the plump, red-faced innkeeper turned his head and gave him a warm, friendly smile.

...

...

Deep into the night, the pitch-black sky had long since swallowed the last sliver of light above.

It plunged the whole world into boundless deathly silence and darkness.

This was especially true for Sheep Horn Town.

On the second floor of the inn, inside Horac's room.

The lamps had long been extinguished. Only the cold moonlight filtered through the lattice, casting a layer of silver frost across the floorboards.

The caravan owner lay on his side in bed with his back to the door. Bundled beneath thick blankets, his already stout figure looked even more bloated. His breathing was steady and even, as if he were genuinely fast asleep.

However, upon closer inspection, one could notice that his posture hadn't shifted for a long time, and the muscles in his arms were stiff and tense.

"Click..."

An incredibly faint sound—like wood naturally contracting in the ambient temperature—suddenly came from the door latch.

The noise was so quiet that even Horac, just a few feet away in bed, failed to notice it.

But a second later, the latch was silently flicked open from the outside by a thin, rigid tool.

Creaaak—

The door was pushed open extremely slowly, leaving just a narrow crack.

Through the darkness, a familiar bloated silhouette could be vaguely seen beyond the crack.

A pair of stark, bloodshot eyes quietly peered through the opening. They swept left and right across the room before locking onto the figure lying with his back turned on the bed.

In the gloom of the night, a vicious glint flashed through those eyes.

Squeeeak—

The door hinges scraped gently as they turned, letting out an even fainter noise.

The door opened wider, fully exposing the stout figure behind it to the moonlight.

It was none other than the innkeeper who had probed them during the day!

But compared to his previous warmth and friendliness, his face now held only a hollow fanaticism and a cold, absolute resolve.

His gentle, enthusiastic smile was completely gone.

In his hand, he gripped a sharp knife in a reverse hold, its blade gleaming with a cold light.

Stepping cautiously, his fat body displayed a balance and agility completely unsuited to his bulk.

With every stride, he planted his heel first, steadying himself before rolling down his toes to muffle his footsteps to an absolute minimum.

He walked all the way up to the bed without making a single sound.

He raised the sharp dagger high above the deeply sleeping figure. A bizarre mix of fanaticism and ferocity danced in his eyes.

The muscles in his arm suddenly bulged as he unleashed his strength!

The knife in his hand was just about to stab down.

Right at that moment, a figure—hidden deep in the room's darkness like a Winter Wolf in the night—erupted from the shadowy depths beyond the moon's reach, accompanied by a howling rush that tore through the air.

"Argh!"

The powerful impact striking his chest forced a cry of pain from the innkeeper as he was sent flying backward.

Amidst scattering splinters and shattered wood, he smashed through the door and crashed into the hallway wall.

Only then did Horac, who had been faking sleep on the bed, scramble up in belated panic, his face entirely pale.

Feeling the hard impact against his calf, Xia Nan—who had utilized his less-than-masterful stealth skills to hide in the room's blind spot beforehand—stepped out of the shadows.

Drawing his sword from its sheath, his mental will descended onto the innkeeper's body—Gravity Multiplication!

Stripping the man of any chance to escape.

The instant the commotion broke out, the dwarf Thordin—who had been lying in ambush in Afu's adjacent room—and Margaret—who had hidden alone in the room near the stairs just in case—charged out of their doors fully armed.

Two vigilant gazes instantly locked onto the innkeeper.

But to their surprise, the fat middle-aged man caught red-handed in his murder attempt didn't show a hint of panic. Instead, his entire body suddenly erupted with a strength far surpassing a normal human's as he raised his right hand holding the Short Dagger.

"Squelch!"

As his muscular strength fought and compressed against the multiplied gravity, a massive cloud of blood mist exploded from the surface of his right arm, the bones within appearing to twist and warp.

Yet, the very next second, under the watchful eyes of everyone present, that dagger viciously plunged down.

Plunged right into his own chest.

Clink—

Instead of the dull squelch of a blade piercing flesh, a crisp crack of solid objects colliding rang out through the hallway.

His thin linen shirt was easily pierced.

Beneath the shirt, right below the tip of the blade, was the bizarre gleam unique to the Pastel Gemstone.

"Hum."

A wave of pink energy rippled outward, centering on the tip of the innkeeper's knife.

It seemed to spread slowly, yet it moved far faster than the speed of sound.

By the time everyone heard the sharp clink, the pink light had already swept through their bodies.

Margaret's, Thordin's, and Horac's eyes were visibly dazed the exact moment the pink light washed over them.

Only when the pink energy brushed over Xia Nan did the Silver Ring on his right ring finger tremble slightly—a movement only he could perceive.

While the [Dream Weaving Corridor] recharge progress increased by another millionth, it once again shielded him from the Pastel Gemstone's influence.

As he brought the dagger down, the innkeeper's eyes widened to their limits, bulging as if they might pop out of his skull. Still, he took in everyone's reactions.

Naturally, he noticed how Xia Nan's response differed from the rest.

"Heh..."

His lips curled into a grotesque grin.

The Pastel Gemstone on his chest flashed with light.

And almost in the exact same second.

From outside the window, in the direction of the Church.

A blinding, radiant burst of light erupted, dyeing the sky a brilliant pink.