Absolutely not to be burned at the stake

This is the private residence of Fogg Holly, the mayor of Shadowtown.

Barton walked down the corridor, pushed open a half-closed oak door at the end, and entered a spacious but dark study. The fire crackled in the fireplace, but it couldn't dispel the chill deep within the room.

Mayor Fogg Holly stood with his back to him in front of a high window with heavy velvet curtains hanging on it, slightly lifting a corner of the curtains to look at the mountains that were faintly visible in the night sky.

"Mayor," Barton said in a deep voice, cutting to the chase.

Fogg slowly turned around, holding a glass of red wine, and smiled at Barton, gesturing, "Red wine from Lionheart City, would you like to try some?"

Barton nodded and then sat down by the fireplace.

Fogg walked to the table, picked up the bottle, poured a glass into a crystal glass, and handed it to Barton: "Try it... this bottle will get you six silver crowns."

Barton took the glass, gently swirled it in his hand, and watched the crimson liquid ripple in the crystal glass. He then brought it to his nose, took a deep breath, and sipped it, a look of rapture in his eyes.

Seeing Barton's blissful expression, Fogg wore a satisfied look, sat down in the chair next to him, took a sip of his drink, and asked, "What's going on?"

"call..."

Barton let out a soft breath, a shadow of gloom flashing across his狰狞 (zhengning - ferocious/hideous) face: "Boker is dead."

"Boker is dead?" Fogg raised an eyebrow. "How did he die? Didn't you say he had the strength of a knight's squire? Who killed him?"

"He was burned to death by Levi, utterly powerless to resist." Barton tilted his head back and downed the glass of red wine in one gulp, a few drops of bright red wine dripping from the corner of his mouth.

"Crack." The crystal glass in Fogg's hand shattered instantly, and the red wine slid from his fingers like blood.

Looking at the shattered wine glass in his hand, Fogg opened his palm, letting the crystal shards, which looked as if they were stained with blood, slip from his hand.

He reached up and pulled a silk handkerchief from his chest, wiped his left hand with it, and then casually tossed it into the fireplace. Watching the expensive silk handkerchief instantly turn to ashes, he said slowly, "That kid was a divine mage?"

"If it's not that they possess some kind of holy artifact, then it's very likely, and... it seems to be of a high rank."

Barton put down his glass and scoffed, "I don't recall even a novice divine mage possessing such astonishing fire magic..."

Fogg took a deep breath, the flames in the fireplace dancing gently in his eyes. "How is that possible? That kid... wasn't he just a soft-spoken rabbit a few days ago?"

Barton took a deep breath, his brow furrowed, the scars on his face tightening: "Could it be that this kid really received divine favor? Or is he just relying on a holy artifact?"

Fogg scoffed, "Even a long-haired rabbit blessed by God is still just a rabbit with teeth. Can it turn into a demonic wolf? It's not like it's a divinely descended being!"

"As for the sacred artifacts..." A faint shadow of gloom and solemnity flashed in Fogg's eyes, "After all, this is the Sacred Heart Cathedral? Who knows... there might actually be some sacred artifacts here."

"So... what do you mean?" Barton looked at Fogg and asked hesitantly.

"Perhaps...it's possible, this kid has been faking it all along..."

A hint of apprehension flashed in Fogg's eyes: "Perhaps... Hansen already sensed something was wrong."

Barton's face stiffened as he looked at Fogg and asked, "Then... what do we do?"

Fogg frowned, his fingers unconsciously rubbing the large ruby ​​ring on his thumb, engraved with the family crest.

The study fell into a deathly silence, broken only by the crackling of the fireplace and the two men's slightly heavy breathing.

If Hansen had noticed earlier, then this would have been a problem.

"Then...what do we do? If Hansen already knew, then this matter..." Barton gritted his teeth, "Could we ask Lord Fox for help?"

"Barton, have you forgotten? This is Shadow Town!"

Fogg gently twirled the ring and snorted, "Under the shadows, even the gods are helpless! Lord Fox's strength is greatly limited here. Moreover, Lord Fox said that with the Sacred Heart Cathedral's resources, if Hansen doesn't leave the cathedral, basically no one below the mid-level can kill him head-on."

"Moreover, Lord Fox is only at the fifth level. If he wants to take action, he will have to mobilize at least all the forces of Great Mountain City."

"Besides, Hansen is a bishop of the Alchemy Court. No matter how much the Alchemy Court has declined, they will never let it go if a bishop is killed."

At this point, Fogg paused for a moment, then gave a soft hum, and said slowly, "Regardless of the circumstances, I'll have Alice investigate that kid's background tomorrow..."

"That's all we can do." Barton nodded slowly.

Night fell completely over Shadow Town, and a damp, chilly mist drifted along the streets, but inside the "Squid Tavern" in the town center, with its crooked wooden wine glass sign, a completely different, bustling scene unfolded.

The air was thick with the mixed smell of cheap ale and roasted meat grease. A group of people crowded around the rough wooden table: a few craftsmen and apprentices who had worked hard all day, two or three guards, and a few adventurers in faded leather armor, all using noise and alcohol to dispel the winter chill and the dullness of life.

The topic of conversation, unsurprisingly, revolved around the earth-shattering event that occurred this afternoon on the outskirts of town.

"My legs went weak!" Carl's voice trembled with lingering fear, yet it was made all the more loud by being the center of attention.

He took a big gulp of ale, wiped his mouth, and said, "You didn't see it! Father Levi... Father Levi! He was just standing there, and that idiot Poker's fist was almost in his face! And what happened?"

He deliberately kept everyone in suspense, glancing at the ears that were perked up around him.

Hawke, standing nearby, immediately chimed in, his face filled with exaggerated terror: "But Father Levi didn't even blink, he just raised his hand, and whoosh! A ball of golden-red holy fire appeared out of thin air! My God, you could feel the heat wave from a mile away!"

Carl nodded vigorously, interrupting, "Yes, yes, yes! It was like the goddess herself had descended! That guy Poker didn't even get a proper groan before he turned into a giant fireball! Rolling around on the ground, the screams... tsk tsk, I still get chills thinking about it!"

In the corner, a one-eyed adventurer picking at bits of meat between his teeth with a dagger scoffed, clearly unconvinced: "Come on, you two kids, drunk and making up stories? That Levi from the church? I came to town for supplies last week and saw him getting shoved around by a stable boy on the street corner, not daring to say a word. A sorcerer? If he's a sorcerer, then I'm the Grand Duke of Lionheart!"

"One-Eyed, you're wrong this time," came the reply from Basque, the blacksmith and regular customer at the tavern.

He held the large wooden goblet, took a slow sip, and said with a touch of wistfulness, "This morning, Reina's daughter, Rimin, had a fever, and it was Father Levy's medicine that brought her back to health. That medicine was far more effective than Old John's herbal soup!"

"Moreover, although Carl and Hawke love to boast, the fact that Poker turned into charcoal is absolutely true. I went to take a look myself."

He gestured with his chin toward Karl. "You two were right there, Father Levy... what did he say?"

Hawke immediately straightened his back and imitated Livy's cold and clear tone, though not quite quite right: "'In the name of my lord, this place is under the watchful eye of God, and the wicked shall be punished by fire!' That's exactly what he said! Not a single word off!"

Carl quickly added, still shaken, "We...we were joking with him at the street corner a while ago. Thinking about it now, it was truly...truly a blessing from the goddess!"

His words were met with a burst of ambiguous laughter and gasps of surprise in the tavern.

"By the goddess above... what incredible luck has the Payne family had?"

"What about Father Hansen? Did he really hand over the church to Levy?"

"Secluded meditation? Father Hansen doesn't like going out much, so this might really be a case of asceticism..."

"Pock is asking for it, daring to provoke a priest's family..."

"From now on, Father Levi will be in charge of Shadow Town..."

The two guards, who had been drinking in silence, exchanged a tense glance.

One of them whispered, "When the captain came back this afternoon, his face was as black as the bottom of a pot... It seems it's true. We'd better be more polite to the Payne family in the future."

The adventurer, known as "One-Eyed," had a flicker of doubt in his remaining eye. He put down his dagger and touched the bulging money pouch at his waist.

He had originally planned to stay in town for a couple more days to relax and enjoy himself, but now, Shadow Town seemed to have changed somewhat.

A young priest who can casually unleash fire magic... this is a dangerous situation.

"Hey, Finney!" One-Eyed raised his empty glass, his voice much quieter than before. "Another ale, the best of the best!"

The tall, thin tavern owner quickly responded, deftly filling a glass and handing it over with a smile: "Please enjoy."

As he turned, he muttered to the waiter wiping the glasses, "Looks like we need to change the rules at this tavern. From now on, anyone who gets drunk and dares to gossip about Father Levy or the Payne family will be thrown out! Carl and Hawke, those two lads, they were lucky today..."