I'm really not a Sanctuary Warlock.

Lynn followed behind him, her gaze sweeping over the village within the stone walls.

When the dwarves saw him enter, they all stopped what they were doing and stared at him with strange looks, looks that contained both curiosity and... pity?

Wait, what does "sympathy" mean?

Lynn had a bad feeling.

“Lord Gron,” he said as he followed, “what do your high priests usually do with those young human men?”

Gron turned around, a knowing look on his face.

"Hey, don't worry, the High Priest is very gentle."

"What about it?"

“You’ll have to find out for yourself.” Gron rubbed his hands together and muttered to himself, “I hope the High Priest won’t scold me for taking matters into my own hands.”

Lynn: "..."

The thought that these dwarves claimed to be the servants of the Lord of the Abyss made Lynn unable to take the word "gentle" seriously at all.

How gentle can the priest of the Lord of the Abyss be?

The village was small; after walking for only a few minutes, the stone building covered with dark purple runes came into view.

The building appears taller than it looks from a distance, at least three stories high, with its stone walls densely covered with spiral patterns.

The closer Lynn got to the building, the stronger the herbal smell permeated the air, as if someone had put a dozen or so Chinese herbs into a pot and stewed them together.

“We’re here.” Gron stopped in front of the stone gate, cleared his throat, adjusted the gold ring on his beard, took a deep breath, and pushed the stone gate open forcefully.

"High Priest, I have brought you something good."

The moment the stone door opened, a thick, choking white steam, accompanied by a wave of heat, rushed towards him, and Lynn instinctively squinted his eyes.

Only after the steam dissipated slightly could he see the situation inside.

It was a spacious circular hall, but completely different from the dark and eerie abyss altar that Lynn had imagined.

In the center of the hall stood a huge black iron pot, with a roaring flame burning beneath it. Inside the pot churned a viscous, dark green liquid, and the pungent smell of herbs emanated from it.

Next to the iron pot, the shelf was neatly filled with various bottles and jars containing different liquids and powders.

This looks... more like an alchemy workshop?

As Lynn was still looking around, a figure emerged from behind the iron pot.

Then Lynn froze.

All the images of the high priest he had preconceived in his mind were shattered at this moment.

It was a human woman.

She was tall and slender, wearing a dark purple robe with traces of green medicine on the hem.

A wide-brimmed pointed hat was perched crookedly on her head, and beneath the brim was... an extremely beautiful face.

Her skin was as pale as porcelain, her features were so exquisite they seemed to have been painted, and her pale purple eyes appeared exceptionally deep in the swirling steam.

She was holding a wooden spoon and stirring the liquid in the iron pot. When she saw Gron push the door open and come in, her beautiful eyes were full of impatience.

“Gron”.

"How many times have I told you?"

Gron's arrogance instantly diminished. He rubbed his hands together and said with a forced smile, "High Priest, please listen to me..."

"Why did you rob someone again?"

The woman's tone suddenly turned stern, her purple eyes sweeping over Lynn before landing on Groon, full of reproach.

"I told you not to bother passing travelers, did you put your ears in your beard again?"

Gron hurriedly waved his hand: "High Priest, you have wronged me. This time we really did not steal it. This kid asked for it himself."

He shoved Lynn, almost causing her to stumble.

“He said he greatly admires you, High Priest, and wants to come and serve you.”

Lynn: "..."

No.

When did I ever say such a thing?

Lynn was full of questions, but he didn't expose Groon to his face. Instead, he took advantage of the moment to quietly cast an appraisal spell on the woman in front of him.

The message popped up.

【Name:? ? ? 】

【grade:???】

【Profession:???】

[Sanity Value: ???]

It's all question marks.

Lynn's pupils contracted slightly, indicating that the woman in front of him was at least level 60.

After hearing what Gron said, the woman looked at Lynn again.

"Send him away, I still need to brew my medicine."

Gron was anxious: "High Priest, you work day and night and need a capable assistant."

"I said, send them away." The woman didn't turn her head. "I don't need any assistants."

Gron opened his mouth, wanting to say something more, but after meeting the woman's slightly turned gaze, he immediately swallowed his words.

"Yes, yes, whatever the High Priest says."

He turned around, gestured for Lynn to leave, his expression a mixture of disappointment and helplessness.

Lynn stood still, without moving.

His mind raced with thoughts.

wrong.

That's not right at all.

This was completely different from what he had expected.

Gron claims to be a follower of the Lord of the Abyss. Logically, this high priest should be a treacherous and cunning follower of the Abyss, exuding an evil aura.

But the woman in front of me... is completely different from the style of the Abyss Cult.

“Um…” Lynn began.

Gron turned around: "Hmm?"

Lynn didn't look at him, but at the woman who was stirring the pot with her back to him.

Can I ask you a question?

The woman did not respond.

Lynn didn't mind and asked directly.

Why were you not affected by the plague?

The sound of the wooden spoon stirring the liquid stopped.

Chapter 107 The Value of Warlocks (Choose one)

The woman in the pointed hat stopped stirring and slowly turned around.

"What do you ask for this?"

Lynn shrugged: "Just out of curiosity. I came all the way from the north, and there was plague everywhere, and there were refugees everywhere. Many people were covered with dark purple spots, and some were already dead."

He paused, his gaze sweeping around the hall before finally settling on the bubbling, boiling iron pot.

“But all of you dwarves in the village are perfectly fine.”

"And I noticed that the runes on the outside of this building are exactly the same color as the plague spots."

Gron's expression changed.

"You little brat, you..."

“Gron.” The woman raised her hand, stopping the enraged dwarf.

She stared at Lynn for a long time, her expression changing from initial impatience to a subtle scrutiny.

“You are very smart,” she said.

“That’s obvious,” Lynn replied.

The woman placed the wooden spoon beside the pot, raised her hand to straighten the crooked brim of her hat, revealing her full face.

Upon closer inspection, the face appears even more refined than it did from a distance. The pale skin contrasts beautifully with the pale purple pupils, creating a sickly yet alluring effect, while simultaneously exuding the aloofness characteristic of a scholar.

She didn't seem like a cult priestess; she was more like a researcher in an academy.

“Those runes outside are isolation runes. The essence of the plague is actually a kind of abyssal pollution. Ordinary purification methods are ineffective against it, but a repulsion barrier can be formed by using power of the same origin.”

Lynn understood.

Fight poison with poison.

Use the power of the abyss to isolate it from its pollution.

"So you've been protecting these dwarves all along?"

The woman didn't answer the question; instead, she asked a question in return.

"Are you a warlock?"

Lynn felt a chill run down her spine.

He didn't use any magic here, so how did this woman know?

Why do you ask that?

“Even if your level can be hidden, the magical fluctuations around you can’t lie.” The woman tilted her head, the shadow cast by her hat brim obscuring half her face, leaving only a pale purple eye watching him. “And your attire doesn’t look like that of a mage.”

"Who exactly are you?" Lynn blurted out.

The woman glanced at him but did not answer.

She turned and walked back to the iron pot, picked up the wooden spoon and continued stirring, as if nothing had happened.

"Gelong, see the guest out."

Groon stepped forward with a sigh of relief, ready to pull Lynn's arm.

"Wait." Lynn took a step back, avoiding Groon's hand.

He didn't look at Groon, but stared at the woman's back.

"You're trying to find a solution to the plague, right?"

Upon hearing this, the woman could no longer remain calm. She slowly walked to Lynn's side and then spoke.

"I have a question for you."

"Please speak."

"You came from the north, and along the way you encountered those refugees infected with the plague. What did you do?"

Lynn hesitated for a second.

"They were cured."

"How was it treated?"

"Just some sorcerer's tricks."

The woman's eyes lit up for a moment, but she quickly composed herself and resumed her indifferent demeanor.

"A simple method can eliminate the Abyss Plague?" Her tone was tinged with doubt. "That means the plague isn't deeply embedded in the body..."

She muttered a few words to herself, as if she was thinking about something, and then looked at Lynn.