Translator: CinderTL
Roland sighed and pulled a silver coin from his pouch, pressing it into Peyton's hand.
"Uncle Peyton, this is to cover her meal. Please pass it on to Uncle Gary later."
"Hey, kid! I can't take this. If Gary finds out, he'll-"
"Just accept it, Uncle Peyton. Otherwise, I might..."
Roland's gaze shifted to the mountain of dishes piled beside Theresa.
And that wasn't even all of it. The wooden table nearby was already overflowing with used plates.
Seeing this, Roland's lips twitched involuntarily, and even the corner of his eye began to twitch.
Based on his experience working at the tavern these past few days, Roland secretly calculated that this beautiful silver-haired woman had already consumed three days' worth of the tavern's revenue in a single sitting.
Even more terrifying was that she showed no signs of stopping, continuing to order more food.
No wonder she's so broke.
With an appetite like that, the reward from a single commission probably only covers her meals for two or three days.
Following Roland's gaze, Peyton also noticed the chaotic "battlefield" of dishes.
The old mercenary fell silent for a moment before finally accepting the silver coin from Roland's hand, patting him meaningfully on the shoulder.
"Kid, if you're stuck with a woman like this, you'd better pray for good luck."
Roland ignored the suggestive look in Peyton's eyes, instead picking some food from his plate to feed Joe, who was eagerly watching from the table. He narrowed his eyes and warned, "Uncle Peyton, this is Gary's meal money. Don't you dare pocket it!"
"Hey! You little brat! What do you mean by that? Do you think I'm that kind of person?" Peyton immediately jumped to his feet in protest.
As the two bickered, Gary emerged from the kitchen. The burly, good-natured man wiped sweat from his brow and beamed as he carried a freshly cooked steak to Theresa.
"Here you go, Miss Theresa! Your steak!"
"Thank you so much, Mr. Gary!" Theresa cheerfully accepted the plate and continued to devour her meal with gusto.
Watching Theresa savor his cooking, Gary's eyes softened with contentment. For this former butcher turned tavern owner, having a customer like Theresa who genuinely appreciated his craft was a true delight.
"Would you like another serving, Miss Theresa? If it's not enough, I can—"
"This is perfect, Mr. Gary. Thank you so much."
"Don't mention it!" Gary waved dismissively, humming an off-key tune as he began clearing plates.
But when he caught sight of his idle younger brother out of the corner of his eye, the once-amiable giant's expression instantly darkened.
"Peyton! You lazy bastard, what are you standing around for? Get over here and help clean up!"
"Old man! I told you a hundred times, I'm not your damn employee!"
Peyton grumbled under his breath, but he dutifully walked over and began clearing the table.
In that brief moment, Theresa had already devoured the freshly served steak.
Ahem.
She cleared her throat, withdrew a pristine white silk handkerchief from her sleeve, and elegantly dabbed at the corners of her mouth. With a hint of embarrassment, she asked, "Mr. Roland, did I eat too much?"
Roland forced a smile, noticing the faint flush on the silver-haired woman's pale cheeks.
"Not at all. Not too much."
Just enough for my ten days' worth of meals, he thought to himself.
Shaking off these trivial thoughts, Roland tapped his fingers lightly on the wooden table and said seriously, "Miss Theresa, now that we've finished eating, shall we discuss the specific requirements for this commission?"
"Please proceed," Theresa replied, her expression immediately shifting back to its usual cool detachment.
"Regarding payment, I won't take a single coin. However, I have one condition..."
Roland casually handed Theresa's empty plate to Peyton, who had come to collect the dishes. Once Peyton and Gary had retreated to the kitchen, Roland lowered his voice and continued.
"When the time comes, I must personally eliminate all the demonic beasts present."
"Your only task is to observe from the sidelines and prevent any unforeseen incidents."
Theresa paused slightly at these words, then gazed blankly behind Roland. After a moment, she turned a questioning look toward the young man before her.
"Forgive my boldness, Mr. Roland, but are you perhaps a follower of Shar?"
Shar? The goddess of death and annihilation?
Recalling what he had read in ancient texts, Roland shook his head. He had made this request solely to fulfill the requirements for becoming a knight's squire, with no religious implications whatsoever.
"Of course not."
Seeing his firm denial, Theresa let out an almost imperceptible sigh of relief, though a hint of doubt still lingered in her eyes.
"Then... I accept your request. But do you worship any particular God?"
Roland visibly stiffened at the question.
"Why do you ask?"
"Because..." Theresa's gaze turned blank again as she pointed a slender finger behind Roland. "I see it. Some indescribable strength is coiled around you. In fact, I sensed it during our first meeting, but..."
She frowned slightly, squinting as if trying to see more clearly.
"The aura back then wasn't nearly as potent as it is now, and..."
Theresa's voice gradually softened.
"This strength... it bears a faint resemblance to the divine power granted to me by Oghma, God of Truth."
"Oh?" Roland murmured, a hint of skepticism in his tone.
He trusted Theresa wouldn't fabricate such a claim without reason, so he meticulously reviewed his experiences since crossing over.
Yet after repeated reflection, he found nothing unusual.
The only possible connection was the mysterious mastermind behind the Church of Truth.
Could it be a God?
The thought had barely surfaced when Roland chuckled and shook his head.
Though he had never witnessed a God firsthand, their very title implied supreme power.
Even a mere avatar of such a being would surely be beyond the reach of a single Fire Arrow.
Dismissing this absurd speculation, Roland pressed Theresa for more details about the mysterious strength.
But she explained that the divine power she had received was incomplete, leaving her unable to provide further insight.
Since the conversation had drifted to deities, Roland seized the opportunity to voice a long-held question.
He tapped his fingertips rhythmically against the table, the sound echoing clearly in the silent dining hall, like the steady swing of a pendulum.
"Miss Theresa, you mentioned that your special ability comes from a divine gift. So..."
He paused, his gaze deepening.
"Does God have the power to descend into the mortal realm?"
"Regarding your question..."
Theresa frowned slightly, her slender fingers unconsciously tracing the rim of her teacup.
After a long silence, she finally sighed softly and shook her head.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Roland, but I can't give you a definitive answer. In fact..."
The silver-haired woman's eyes suddenly drifted, as if lost in a distant memory.
"Even this great power to perceive others' pasts came to me suddenly one night, like... a dream."
"A dream?"
"Yes."
Theresa nodded gently, her silver hair swaying with the movement.
"In just one night, I went from being a homeless traveler to the Saintess of the Church of Truth."
As she spoke the words "Church of Truth," her lips tightened involuntarily, and a flicker of disdain flashed in her eyes.
"This divine gift not only granted me special abilities but also greatly enhanced my physical attributes. However..."
Her voice suddenly lowered, and her fingers unconsciously brushed her flat abdomen.
"Mortals who gain such strength always pay a price."
Roland noticed her fingertips trembling slightly.
"As you just witnessed, the Church of Truth calls it Gluttony."
Gluttony?
The word reminded Roland of the Seven Deadly Sins from his previous life.
He pressed for more details, but Theresa's answers remained vague.
Realizing he wouldn't get any further information, he tactfully changed the subject.
"So, what do you know about the Church of Truth?"
"Them?"
Theresa sneered, her contempt almost overflowing.
"Just a bunch of parasites who use the name of God to swindle and deceive. Once I saw through their lies, I left that place immediately."
Roland frowned slightly and briefly recounted his encounter at Far Ocean Port.
However, after hearing his account, Theresa wore a puzzled expression.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Roland," she said after a moment's hesitation, slowly shaking her head.
"I don't know anything about the mysterious person you mentioned. In fact, I left the Church of Truth several years ago. At least when I left, the person in charge there was a complete fraud."
"Alright."
Though he hadn't obtained any valuable information from Theresa, Roland's expression remained calm.
He gently set down his teacup, the bottom making a soft thud against the wooden table.
"Uncle Gary has already arranged your accommodations."
He stood up, the candlelight casting flickering shadows across his sharply defined profile.
"Get some rest tonight. We'll set out at dawn tomorrow to hunt the demonic beasts."
Theresa tilted her head back, her silver hair gleaming softly in the candlelight.
"Thank you, Mr. Roland."
(End of the Chapter)