Chapter 612 - A Lead (2/2)
living.
“Then just register.” The mayor looked at Roland, cast Discern Lies on himself, dipped a quill pen with some black ink, and placed it on top of the parchment. “Tell us your ident.i.ty, profession, and race.”
“Roland, Mage, the race is Golden Son.”
Hearing this, the mayor visibly froze, “Golden Son? What race is this? None of the Bards that came down three years ago said there was such a race.”
“A small race in a remote corner of the world, it’s normal not to have heard of it.” Roland shrugged.
At this moment, there was a lively atmosphere in the livestream.
“Good f**ing small race in the remote corner of the world, Roland loves to humble himself too much.”
“Mages are all liars.”
“Not exactly a lie. We’re in Hollevin, which is indeed a remote corner of the world, and half a million people is nothing if not a small race.”
“Can’t help it. People with high intelligence always hide a few things in their speech.”
“I think he just simply doesn’t want to explain it to people so they don’t ask questions about
it.”
“It’s possible! People with high IQs generally don’t want to talk to people with low IQS because they find it troublesome to always have to explain, and then you guys say they don’t have emotional intelligence… Yes, those nerds you all talk about.”
In reality, a netizen had gotten it right. Roland was too lazy to explain so much, and if not for Discern Lies, he wouldn’t even want to say the words “Golden Son,” and just be human and be done with it.
The elven mayor sighed. “A Mage… I thought you were a Warlock. In the Netherworld, Mages have a pretty bad time.”
“They’ll be hung on the Wall of the Faithless by the Nether G.o.d?”
The elven mayor laughed. “Indeed, so you’d better believe in just anyone—the Nether G.o.d is a good choice. Not to mention beautiful, she also has a great personality.”
“Hanging a person’s soul on the Wall of the Faithless, you call that a good character?” Roland froze. “Wait, the Nether G.o.d is a woman? But when I read the books, didn’t they say that its gender was unknown and that it was just a black mist?”
“How is that possible! Even the evil G.o.ds have bodies, how can the Nether G.o.d be a ma.s.s of mist.” The elven mayor laughed. “She’s just afraid that her divine body will be looked at directly and the gazer will become mentally deranged, so she transformed into mist.” Roland asked, “So you haven’t met the Nether G.o.d either, mayor?”
Probably because he identified with the elven bloodline in Roland, the mayor seemed to be particularly patient with Roland. “I haven’t seen her. I am of low strength and dare not look directly at the G.o.ds.”
“It seems that the Nether G.o.d appears often?”
“That’s for sure.” The elven mayor laughed heartily. “This is the Netherworld, her home, so how can she not appear often? It’s just that she doesn’t pay much attention to us. Okay, the others, report your ident.i.ties and occupations.”
The other four reported information about themselves.
After the registration was done, the mayor looked at Schuck. “You are a Saint Samurai. Remember not to cast light divine spells here randomly, many people will be uncomfortable.” “Why?”
“Many of the inhabitants who aren’t professionals have more or less mixed their bodies with the dark elements to survive here because of the time and age adaptations, and if you cast a light divine spell, even if they see your divine light from afar, an ordinary person might not be able to stand it, and might even go blind.”
Schuck nodded. “I understand, I will refrain from it.”
“As expected of Saint Samurai who are known for their kindness.” The elven Mayor nodded in satisfaction. “Also, you guys are new to the city and have no place to stay, so would you like to buy a few houses to stay in this city?”
“Houses are expensive, right?” Roland asked. He had noticed on the way to the mayor’s residence that there weren’t many houses in this city, but there were quite a lot of people.
“Expensive for the natives here, but not for those of you who are new to the Netherworld.” The elven Mayor gestured to the rather good quality clothes they were wearing. “Just these fresh clothes on you are worth a medium-sized house.”
Roland once again looked at the clothes on the elven mayor—linen robes.
It turned out not that the mayor wasn’t thrifty, but there really weren’t any nice clothes to wear.
He neatly took out several sets of spare clothes from his Backpack and put them on the table. “Then I’ll trouble the mayor to help us choose five good houses.”
Looking at the new clothes on the table, the elven mayor was quite happy. “Good, you’re all very good. Anlor, come here, take these five friends, go to the northern suburbs, and let them each choose a house.”
The elven guard who had brought Roland and the others over earlier reappeared.
He slightly bent down and made a gesture of invitation.
Roland and the others followed him and left the mayor’s residence.
The mayor watched them leave from the window, then he closed the window, picked up the clothes, and went into the bedroom to try them on.
Roland and the others followed behind this elf, and after walking for a while, Roland asked, “Mr. Anlor, may I ask a question.”
“Go ahead.” He also seemed to sense the elven bloodline in Roland.
“Are there vampires in the Netherworld?”
“Why do you ask this?” Anlor looked back at Roland curiously.
“Because this friend, who is a Saint Samurai, has an extreme hatred for vampires.”
Schuck helplessly made a furious expression.
“There is, but you’d better not mess with them.” Anlor walked on while saying, “The vampires are now protected by their True Ancestor, and no one dares to go against them except the Nether G.o.d.”