Chapter 17: The Divine Emissary and the Faithful of the Gods

Sean’s throat tightened, and the greeting he had been about to blurt out caught in his windpipe.

He did not know how to face this man—a man he had desperately wanted to interview, only to leave in frustration after his opportunity was snatched away.

"Mr. Phillips, where are you going? Has the interview regarding me already concluded before I even arrived?" Maurice offered a rare moment of levity.

Indeed, the attitude of an emissary toward the followers of a god is always one of benevolence.

"Professor, I..." Sean gripped his fists, bowing his head, unable to meet Maurice’s gaze. "The newspaper... there were... others... interviewing you... I couldn't... stay any longer..."

Maurice came to a halt before him, lowering his head slightly, his eyes lingering on Sean’s injured hand.

He did not speak immediately. Instead, he took a clean handkerchief from his pocket and held it out.

"Wrap your wound first," Maurice said, his tone as calm and unhurried as ever. "I do not consider it a wise decision to challenge a brick wall with one's own hand."

Sean looked up at him, stunned for a moment, before flushing red and taking the handkerchief, hurriedly binding his hand. He whispered his thanks, though he still dared not look Maurice in the eye.

Indeed, the attitude of a follower toward the emissary of a god is always one of reverence.

"Come with me."

Maurice gestured, then turned and began walking toward the pub. Sean watched his retreating back, hesitated for a moment, then gritted his teeth and followed.

Pushing open the doors of the pub, the dim, yellow light once again enveloped them both.

Rita Skeeter was sitting in a corner with her legs crossed, a slender quill tucked elegantly between her fingers. Seeing Maurice appear, she immediately broke into a brilliant smile, stood up, and said enthusiastically, "Maurice, you’ve finally arrived! It has been such a long-awaited—"

The next moment, her words cut off abruptly.

Let us rewind ten seconds.

Ten seconds earlier, when Maurice stepped into the long-absent pub, the first to notice him was a wizard sitting in the corner drinking. Hearing the footsteps at the door, he had glanced over subconsciously—

Then, his hand holding the glass paused slightly. Through the dim light, his pupils shrank sharply.

The ninth second.

The wizard's mouth opened slightly, as if he wanted to say something, but some emotion caught in his throat, and he froze in place.

The eighth second.

"What’s wrong with you, Victor?"

"Speak up."

"That trick won't get you a free drink."

The seventh second.

"Wake up."

"If you don't drink, you're paying the tab today."

The sixth second.

The people at the table finally realized something was amiss. They followed the wizard’s gaze toward the door.

And then—

Silence seemed to be contagious. One, two, three...

As everyone cast their eyes upon Maurice, the din that had previously filled the Hog's Head Inn cut off instantly, as if an invisible hand had pressed a mute button. Everyone stopped what they were doing—whether they were holding glasses, adjusting robes, playing cards, or hunched over in hushed conversation.

A sudden, suffocating pressure permeated the air.

The fifth second.

In the silence, the expressions of the wizards shifted from astonishment to disbelief, and then to an irrepressible excitement.

The fourth second.

"Is... is it him?" someone murmured, their voice trembling with uncertainty.

The third second.

"He has returned..." another wizard’s voice whispered, barely audible, filled with faint awe.

Yes, there were three seconds left.

Please give them three seconds to take a deep breath... and to rise.

As eyes focused, more people stood up, the screech of chairs dragging across the floor ringing out. That atmosphere of excitement gradually spread; everyone in the pub realized what was happening.

Finally, not a single person in the pub remained seated.

Everyone had risen, staring in unison at Maurice at the door. Their eyes were filled with complex emotions—excitement, reverence, hope, and even an indescribable fanaticism.

Indeed, the attitude of a follower toward the appearance of a god's emissary is always one of fanaticism.

So, the moment the emissary arrived, the entire pub seemed to freeze.

Rita Skeeter clearly had not expected this scene. She had been intending to exchange pleasantries with Maurice, but her words were cut short by the sudden silence and the shift in the room. She turned her head in confusion, scanning her surroundings, trying to figure out what had happened, but she soon found that everyone’s gaze was fixed on Maurice—it was incomprehensible.

Rita’s smile stiffened for a moment, a flicker of hesitation and bewilderment flashing in her eyes. "What... is going on?"

However, no one answered her.

Maurice himself, however, appeared perfectly calm in the face of it all.

He scanned the room, his eyes sweeping over those excited faces one by one, before he simply raised a hand and said calmly, "Sit down, everyone. Do not block the light."

And so, everyone sat down.

Indeed, the oracle must not be disobeyed.

Those wizards who had excitedly risen exchanged glances; although their eyes still held an unconcealable longing, they obediently retreated to their seats.

One of the wizards met Maurice’s gaze, and a familiar title escaped his lips the next moment.

Maurice merely waved his hand.

"Just call me Professor Maurice for now."

Rita did not understand the behavior of the people in the Hog's Head, but Sean knew it all too well.

After all, he had witnessed with his own eyes the emissary spreading the word of the god, step by step.

And now—

He felt that he, too, was a follower of the god.

"Phillips?"

Rita finally noticed Sean following closely behind Maurice. Her smile stiffened for a moment, but she quickly reverted to her practiced professional mask. Only, a hint of displeasure leaked through that smile.

"Are you still here? Didn't we make it very clear just now that this interview—"

"I allowed it."

The emissary spoke.

And so, the follower’s problem was resolved.