Chapter 37. Clothes Make the Man

Char was not surprised by this answer.

Only then would Ortlinde be recognized by the holy sword.

In his experience, Narshil only had two masters, him and the Valkyrie. When it was with Ortlinde, they were a match made in heaven. As for him, he was the tyrant who forced himself on the sword and used the system's knowledge to snatch a civilian. After a long time, this sword even developed Stockholm Syndrome. They were not the same kind of people.

After all, one of the seven virtues on the sword was 'loyalty'. It would be a little ironic if it was him. historical

He was a devoted person, devoted to every girl.

You could say that, but as the sword recognizes 'virtue', he couldn't be so reckless.

Only Ortlinde had the most perfect light of virtue, so Char was not surprised that she would make such a request.

That was the "Scarlet ritual" that would sacrifice countless lives. Even in the era of the Red Mist Empire, more than half of the slaves would have been killed. Now that the barbarians did not have so many slaves to kill, they could only attack their own people. The Valkyrie obviously knew this, so she came.

"This is... A little difficult ..."

Char rubbed his chin and mumbled.

"I know it's difficult ..." Ortlinde rubbed her clothes uneasily and lowered her head involuntarily, her voice as soft.

"B-but she said you could help me ..."

Suddenly, she raised her head and explained with a red face, "I don't mean to threaten you. I'm just asking if you have a way for it... I will find a way myself. You don't have to take the risk. This matter is very dangerous, you don't have to get involved... Of course, if you want to intervene, you can! Then I can't thank you enough. You can make some requests that are not too excessive... Not that kind of thing. Don't let your thoughts run wild! I'm talking about the things I can help with ..."

Before Char could say anything, she was already on the verge of tears as she tried to explain herself in a flurry.

"Alright, alright ..."

Char waved his hand and patted the seat beside him.

"Come, sit here and talk."

Ortlinde hesitated for a few seconds, but still obediently came over.

"I can help you. You don't have to pay me anything. Just ask her to come and see me when she's free. Of course, it's not a problem if you want to come and see me," Char said gently.

"I won't!"

Ortlinde stood up immediately. Then, she realized that she had overreacted and sat down slowly, twisting her fingers uneasily.

"I didn't mean it that way ... I don't hate you ... I just ... I just need time to accept it ..."

"I understand. No matter what happened in the past, it's all in the past. You can do what you want now. However, no matter what the situation is, Ortlinde is the girl I want to pursue. I can wait until the day you can accept it. "

Char smiled, got up, and did a Knight's Bow before leaving.

When he reached the door, he turned back and said, "From now on, no matter if you meet the Knights or the people of the Holy See, don't reveal your true intentions. Just show them the two letters, understand?"

Ortlinde was still immersed in his speech and nodded subconsciously.

It was only after Char left that she came back to her senses. She laid on the bed in distress and pulled a blanket over to cover her face. Then, she let out a silly but very happy laugh.

..

Although he was grateful that Dr. Nice had finished so quickly, it didn't affect his status on the team.

The Gangrene tribe's barbarians were a group of practical people. They might not be experts in making poison, but they were definitely experts in using it. They didn't care about the means, only the results.

As such, they did not have any complaints about Char, and even had faint respect for him.

He's a ruthless person!

Char was naturally happy to see the situation. Instead, he used his identity to frequently enter and exit Ortlinde's tent, teaching her how to deal with the church's interrogations and inquiries. In the course of more than ten days of traveling, although she did not necessarily become a qualified politician, he had transformed Ortlinde from a country bumpkin who knew nothing into a person who was well-versed.

That afternoon, the Gangrene tribe's main force arrived at the core area, just outside the desert.

This was one of the few places on the grassland that was full of sinkholes and secret passages. Although it was still red soil, it was bare. Under the wind and sun, the soil had slowly turned into sand, revealing dark and ferocious faces.

The barbarians believed that this was the trace left behind by "Zin'rokh" when it passed through the core of the earth, which was why there were so many rugged secret passages and sinkholes underground. They were also attracted by the cool geographical features, so they would consider this place as the first place to hold any grand ceremony.

The Gangrene Tribe's approach naturally aroused the hostility of the White Spirit Tribe. Less than half a day after they approached the periphery, a group of barbarians riding on the backs of frost goats with white patterns on their faces appeared in front of them.

A bone-chilling aura gushed out, and the one in the lead was actually Cisco, an acquaintance of Char.

"Giro, I hope you can give me a reasonable explanation."

Cisco said coldly. Ever since Yama's death, this priest had become even more cold and emotionless. Even the White Spirit Tribe was afraid of him.

"What's there to explain! What do you mean by this?"

"I've been waiting at the pass for more than ten days, but I didn't see any business. At first, I thought I was unlucky, but after asking around, I found out that you've taken them away. What? you wanted to make a big move at the gathering, but your brain was frozen, and you forgot to explain it to us? "

"Whether you have a business or not, it has nothing to do with us. We have our reasons for taking some people away. If you are not convinced, you can ask the big shots in the church.

After a few words, Cisco brought out his backer.

The team slowly separated, and a Knight slowly walked out.

It was Paladin Norman (mid-tier).

He was wearing ancient armor that was mottled with scorch marks, and there was a hole on the left side of his chest that had been pierced by a sharp weapon. He was not wearing a helmet, and his long, light golden hair fluttered in the wind. He looked like a classic Knight who had just walked out of a painting.

This was the most classic outfit of a Holy Knight. The losses in battle represented his outstanding military achievements, and also represented his diligence, frugality, and simplicity.

However, the barbarian's aesthetic sense did not matter whether it was a painting or not. They only had one thing in mind when it came to the church's people, whether they wore expensive clothes or not.

If the clothes were expensive, so was the person.

His clothes were in a bad state, so that person wasn't much!

Apparently, Rosswealth was well aware of this, so when she came, she had her followers wear the most flashy but impractical armor, which won the approval of the Gangrene Tribe.

In comparison, Norman was a little insensible.

The ancient magic equipment "Heritage Armor" that he was wearing had full attributes and was of great significance. Even the wounds on it could tell the story of a mural, but the Barbarian felt that something was wrong.

Where did this defeated Knight come from?

The armor was so damaged, yet it could still be worn?

We're just meeting an important guest, yet you know how to look for new clothes to wear. You're really poor!

"Cisco! Who was this? Mephisto's captive?"

His words caused a burst of laughter. Naturally, Paladin Norman would not allow the other party to insult him. He raised his arm and threw his spear without any explanation. Like a meteor, it shot straight toward Giro.

I'll f*cking shoot you to death!