CHAPTER 382: CHAPTER 264: NO HONOR AT ALL_1

"If you still haven’t found what you want to do, then start by going to the school to teach students how to read. Let me first calculate your salary..." Lance briefly explained the salary for the schoolteachers. Honestly, most of the jobs in town now conflicted with her abilities. She couldn’t even afford to eat, let alone have time to study antiques. Furthermore, the Wizard’s Extraordinary Mysticism was clearly not a proper school of thought—something Lance would never let others learn. Since there was a shortage of schoolteachers, it would be good for her to fill in for the time being.

School, huh? She had inquired about it today because she’d heard about the Nun’s situation, and her expression was somewhat hesitant. But she didn’t refuse. She just found the earnestness of the offer a bit... hard to get used to. No one had ever treated her so normally, and the feeling of being seen as an ordinary person oddly relaxed her.

"Catherine will follow My Lord’s arrangement."

"However, before that, I need to test your abilities." Lance showed her the same items he had given to Tamara. He didn’t even mention the Mother of Worms, just describing the Flesh Rite in general terms.

Upon hearing this, Catherine couldn’t help but furrow her brows. After a moment of internal conflict, she shook her head.

"I do not know the specific function of the rite; the Wizard did not teach me any knowledge of Mysticism."

The Wizard had clearly taken precautions and not systematically taught Catherine any Extraordinary knowledge. What she had learned on her own was scattered and scarcely useful.

"Have you heard about the evil cult that worships the Mother of Worms in the Levant Region? And the Ghouls?"

"I was taken away from the Levant by the Wizard when I was very young. I’ve never heard of the Mother of Worms. However, there’s a local legend about sandworms. Everyone is cautious of them, as they could burrow out of the yellow sands at any moment and are capable of swallowing a person whole. As for the legend of the Ghouls, it’s widespread and has become part of the folklore. Every parent warns their children not to run around at night, for the terrifying Ghouls will take away disobedient children."

At this point, Catherine’s expression changed, as if she were lost in remembrance. In my previous nightmares, I could never remember my parents’ faces, as if obscured by a veil, growing more blurred as my memory faded. What haunted my mind was the tragedy of that night; despair and fear had nearly seized my soul. Under the Wizard’s control, I gradually grew numb and lost myself. But just now, a brief recollection brought back those clear faces—happy times around the campfire with my family, where I was mischievous and energetic, often making everyone laugh...

He also noticed her sudden strange reaction. From her relaxed manner and the slowly emerging smile, he could tell that Catherine was immersed in a happy memory. Lance tactfully did not interrupt her, noticing that her usually gaunt face looked quite pretty when she smiled. At least it wasn’t that stern frown...

But while they could smile, Tamara could not.

The place where Tamara had been caught before wasn’t far from Hamlet. Her pursuers hadn’t pressed closely because the Wizard’s battle had involved too many people, making it hard to single her out. If the Wizard hadn’t blocked the way, she might have escaped further. However, the battle had exhausted her Spiritual Essence, forcing her to halt and recover. Yet, as she recuperated, she also estimated that her pursuers were about to make their move. That’s why she had sought Sanctuary with Lance, but obviously, she had failed.

Thus, when she left and saw Catherine, her replacement, she felt hostility. It was Catherine’s arrival that had made her lose all her bargaining chips. But as someone who dared to roam the world, she had her pride. Seeing Lance refuse to intervene, Tamara, resolute despite not having fully recovered, drove the carriage out of the small town. She no longer trusted Lance’s word. Regrettably, her collection was on the carriage, and she couldn’t abandon the carriage, so she could only retrace her steps. I hope I can leave before that pursuer catches up, she thought.

But not long after she set off, Tamara felt a strong sense of crisis. She pulled on the reins, bringing the carriage to a halt. Focusing her gaze on the road ahead, she knew. They’ve found me...

In Hamlet, owning an independent brick-and-stone house indicated a status that was far from simple.

Reynard had returned from his last mission and, as per regulations, was on leave. At that moment, he was in the yard training his son. He wasn’t wearing armor, just simple casual attire. What he held wasn’t his treasured Champion’s Proof, but a wooden stick.

Conversely, his son Ryan was outfitted in Reynard’s old suit of armor, which had been repaired multiple times. The difference in size made the fit somewhat comical. The Longsword in Ryan’s hand was also one Reynard had discarded. Its length and weight were hardly what an ordinary child could wield. Fortunately, with ample food recently, his malnourished body had gradually recovered.

Reynard had been sent to the Church by his parents when he was young. Lacking a complete childhood himself, he didn’t know how to treat his son. In his opinion, the boy should be thrown into a training camp to become a warrior capable of protecting Hamlet as soon as possible. Unfortunately, his son, being just under fourteen, wasn’t old enough to enlist, so he was naturally sent to school. It wasn’t Reynard’s habit to be idle at home on his day off, like today. As soon as his son returned from school, he dragged him out to begin training ahead of schedule.

"CLANG!"

The Longsword was parried by the wooden stick. Before Ryan could react, Reynard struck him mercilessly with it.