After I died, my personal maid rebelled.

Remembering the direction the magician left the village, the white-haired elf, now with a goal in mind, wanted to follow, but Paul grabbed him.

Never underestimate any magician, because no one knows what strange and wonderful magic they possess.

Paul's years of traveling around the world have allowed him to accumulate a lot of valuable experience.

Adventurers' trump cards are mostly related to running away; running away when they can't win is their life motto. Mages who leave the guild are a group of outlaws, commonly known as cunning old devils.

The fact that the other party dared to appear so openly suggests either that they were fearless and that the surrounding area was under the control of the Cult of Machines, or that they had prepared reconnaissance and reconnaissance methods to deliberately lure others into a trap.

Paul and the elves continued to observe the village of Woodwheel. Their mission was to make contact with the Mechanicus and persuade them to migrate and settle in the Northern Territory.

This task was very difficult, and the difficulty lay in the fact that Paul had previously led a group to clear out their territory...

But the Duke didn't seem to care about any of that; before he came, he asked Paul a question.

"Have you ever been a mental patient?"

That day, the Duke stood with his hands behind his back, tilted his head at a 45-degree angle, looked up at the sky with eyes that did not exist, and continued speaking as he faced the rising sun.

"I admire the first person to propose the idea of ​​mental illness, because he might have been burned alive. Paul, when an idea has a framework that can fill it, countless paradoxes will immediately appear outside the framework."

"But paradoxes will one day broaden our understanding, because human morbidity and greatness are closely related; yesterday's madman may be tomorrow's guide."

"Let your mind break free of its constraints, Paul. Go be the craziest lunatic, and they'll follow you in the end."

Thought……

Paul roughly understood the Duke's thoughts, and he decided to take action. Before starting, he glanced back at the elf who was sprawled on the ground like a rag doll, picking at beans.

This time, he was unusually calm. Under the elf's puzzled gaze, Paul simply smiled.

"It's alright, you keep picking at it, I'm going into the village."

Paul's appearance in the village after passing through the woods immediately caused a sensation. Villagers rushed over upon hearing the news, and their feelings were quite complicated in the face of such an upright and friendly paladin.

On the one hand, Paul was indeed a good man. Even though he knew that the villagers were clearly protecting the heretics, he did not kill innocent people indiscriminately. Instead, he took the initiative to exonerate them.

On the other hand, the heretics who worshipped the mechanical god not only did not force the villagers to convert, but also actively helped them eliminate monsters after arriving around the village, while providing a large number of orders to increase the village's income...

Faced with this dilemma, the villagers were unsure of what to do.

"Mr. Paul, you, you're... oh dear!"

The villager, who had met Paul once before, threw down his saw. He knew without a doubt that Paul still had no intention of letting these heretics go.

The Papacy is an incredibly powerful force. If one day the Papacy were to deploy its Holy Knights...

Not to mention the heretics, even the entire Mulun Village would probably be wiped off the map of the kingdom.

"Don't be nervous, everyone. I'm not here to cause trouble for anyone."

A calm voice rang out. Paul nodded, calmly surveyed the restless villagers nearby for a moment, and then sat down cross-legged on his own.

"The great battle with the Blood-Clad Saintess and the outbreak of the curse made me realize the limitations and injustices of the Goddess of Life!"

"I have come today for the new God, and I have only one sentence to say. Please convey it to them." After saying this, Paul took a deep breath, suddenly widened his eyes, and shouted.

"Where is the messenger of the Machine God? Summon him to the front!"

……

As the sun shone brightly and the shadows of the trees gradually shortened, a man wearing a tin shell slowly appeared at the village entrance.

Paul opened his eyes, walked through the crowd, and their eyes met precisely.

The wind whipped up dust on the dirt road, obscuring the man's expression from his metal shroud. He nodded slightly, each step he took firm and resolute.

In a fight, he would indeed have to back down in front of this Holy Knight Commander; but in a battle of wits, on the hopes of the entire Cult of the Machine God, he could not afford to lose!

This is a trial, a trial that cannot be avoided!

Look, the Holy Knight Commander of the Papacy has arrived here with a bewildered heart. He is weary of calamities and curses, and he desperately needs a new spiritual pillar. If we can influence him, the Cult of the Machine God will reach a new level.

Upon reaching Paul, the man in the tin coat bowed again.

A crowd gathered around, and after Paul gestured for him to sit down, he heard Paul ask directly.

"Are you a messenger of the Cult of Machines?"

The verbal duel began immediately, and the tin man quickly nodded in response, "Yes, Lord Paul."

Paul remained unmoved and continued, "May I ask why you sealed yourself in the metal?"

"Because I have abandoned my skin, life should not be confined to flesh and blood. Only machines can truly liberate the soul."

Upon hearing this, Paul shook his head. Under the tin man's hesitant gaze, he explained, "Mr. Divine Messenger, in a previous great battle, I received help from a spirit."

"It was a dragon, and its soul and appearance were no different from those of the dragon race. People say that seeing is believing, so in my opinion, the flesh and blood body has an irreplaceable role for the soul."

After repeatedly observing Paul's expression and confirming that he was not lying at all, the tin man stood there in surprise, and only spoke after a long while.

"Excuse me, Mr. Paul, may I write down this important information first? It will be very helpful for our research on the soul."

"Please go ahead."

After receiving permission, the tin man immediately borrowed paper and pen from the villagers and began taking notes while asking Paul many new questions, to which Paul answered without reservation.

Satisfied, the man put away the paper and stuffed it into the gap in his tinplate. After expressing his gratitude several times, he coughed lightly and shared his insights.

"The soul is like water; it will take on the form it takes in whatever container it is placed in, and it will eventually become fixed over time. This is not surprising."

"Similar to the cursed incarnation you just mentioned, it's difficult for us to guarantee that the Blood-Clad Saintess's soul retained its original form after the flesh and blood deformed."

"Or perhaps you've even seen a human soul with dozens of arms?"

Paul nodded approvingly. He wasn't there to debate; that was enough. His main task was to quickly infiltrate the Mechanicus.

"These issues can be put aside for now. What I'm most concerned about right now is why you insist that only machines can transform the soul, and what exactly does liberating the soul bring us?"