A chat group for a certain tower warlock

“To put it simply, Siesta is a tourist city, and most of the restaurants here are at the tourist area level. The best food you can find in these kinds of restaurants is probably the standardized fast food,” Mostima said calmly, sitting in his chair with his arms crossed. “Don’t expect anything special.”

“It’s alright, it’s good to try it.” Yarman replied calmly, then looked around and said with some confusion, “Why is there a Gallic restaurant in Siesta?”

"Didn't you say you were just riding on the coattails of the old Gallic brand?"

“No, look.” Yarman pointed to a line of words not far away and said seriously, “That’s a Gallic proverb written in Old Gaul. It means to learn to live in hardship. Even in the former Gallic territories, very few people knew Old Gaul, but here someone actually used it to write a proverb!”

"I never expected that this guest would also know Old Gaulish. Most of the guests here think it's a kind of artistic lettering used to decorate the walls!"

A voice came from beside the three of them. They looked in the direction of the voice and saw a refined man dressed in a Gallic-style chef's uniform and wearing a white top hat standing in front of their table with dishes.

"you are……"

"As you can see, just an ordinary chef at a Gallic restaurant." The man placed the bamboo shoot and beef soup on the table and smiled at the three of them, a hint of melancholy in his smile.

Yarman glanced at the bright green soup in front of him, took a slight breath, and found the color rather startling, quite reminiscent of his second hometown. He pointed at the soup and said seriously, "Bamboo shoot and beef soup?"

"Yes, sir."

"...Very good, high-quality ingredients! It looks appetizing!"

“Thank you for your compliment, sir.” The man bowed slightly to Yarman, performing a standard Gallic nobleman’s bow.

“Gaul has been gone for so many years, yet you still use Gallic aristocratic etiquette and don’t integrate into the local culture. Isn’t this kind of life tiring?” Yarman asked his boss in Old Gaulish.

"Gaul has never died. As long as there is one Gaul on Terra, Gaul still exists. Although Gaul has been divided up, one day we will restore our country!" The chef replied to Yarman in Old Gaul, his tone full of determination.

"As for life, as the proverb says, learn to live in the hardship."

"I wish you success." Yarman blessed the chef in front of him. Although he did not think highly of his so-called ideal of restoring Gaul, it did not affect his respect for the man in front of him.

It's unbelievable that, so many years after Gaul's passing, there are still descendants of nobles who retain the desire to restore their kingdom; one would think they had already abandoned this history.

But... what can a restaurant owner really do?

Watching the chef leave, Yarman ladled out a bowl of bamboo shoot and beef soup. Looking at the steaming, thick, green liquid in the bowl, he looked up at Mostima beside him and asked, "Would you like to try some?"

"You really can bring yourself to eat this?"

"Why can't you go down?" Yarman asked back, then put a large spoonful of soup into his mouth. As soon as he ate it, he felt a strange taste explode on his taste buds, which instantly stunned him.

"..."×3

"Yalman, how is it?"

“This is simply unbelievable!” Yarman slowly put down his spoon, his expression indescribable. “I don’t know how to describe the taste. Personally, I can accept it and it even tastes good, but I feel that ordinary Terra humans are not suitable for eating this kind of food.”

"What do you mean by 'ordinary Terran human'? Aren't you a Terran?"

“Me? I guess so.” Yarman replied to Fiametta indifferently, and then began to drink the thick green soup in front of him, in which he could occasionally see a piece of bloody beef.

How to describe the taste? It's very strange, with a certain spiritual influence. It has a flavor reminiscent of his second hometown. It's the kind of food that, with a little localization, could grace the banquet table of the Chaos Royal Court.

Meanwhile, Fiameta, watching Yarman happily eating, looked on with incomprehension. In her opinion, the owner who produced this food was clearly guilty of a crime—producing food that did not meet safety standards!

But strangely enough, Yarman was able to eat so happily!

"You don't need to guess or understand my tastes, and you'd better pray that you don't. By the way, Xiao Mo, would you like to try it? I think it should suit your taste."

"Mine? Are you sure?"

“You’ve been with me for so long, you’ve already developed my characteristics, and you can accept this kind of thing.”

"Okay, then give me a bowl too."

Here, take it.

Seeing Mostima, who had also filled a bowl and was happily eating, Fiameta's expression became even stranger. She felt like a complete idiot, utterly unable to comprehend their behavior.

Why are they eating so happily? That's not normal!

Why are they all enjoying their food so much, but I can't eat anything? That's not normal!

I'm definitely a normal person, but Mostima and Yarman are normal people too, so why is there such a big difference? Two normal people compared to one normal person—majority rules apply…

So... am I the one who's abnormal?

Chapter 97: Mostima's Halo

“To be honest, the chocolate sauce pasta at this restaurant is really good!” Yarman said to the two people beside him as he walked out of the restaurant. “And it’s rare to see the Gallic people here. Putting everything else aside, just being able to see the Gallic nobles again makes this meal worth it.”

"You're making it sound like you've seen some rare, endangered animal."

"Is not it?"

"That's true."

Looking at the two people in front of her chatting casually, Fiameta felt extremely awkward. She was like a broken light bulb, present but not shining. After all, the two were completely unaffected by her, continuing to talk about whatever they wanted, and even those kinds of things without any hesitation.

The group walked until they arrived at a deserted beach. Behind them was a large forest. The only sign of human presence was a sign warning visitors that the area was full of reefs and that they should not swim there, or they would be responsible for the consequences.

"Wait here for me, I'll be right back," Yarman instructed Mostima, before heading towards the forest to begin building a boat and preparing to set sail.

"Okay, go ahead."

What are you going to do?

“We? We’re planning to row a boat to the middle of the ocean.” Mostima looked at Fiameta beside him and said with a smile, “What, you’re coming too? But our boat can only hold two people.”

"...Mostima."

"Ok?"

“I’m surprised to find you so crazy!” Fiameta looked at her with a mixture of horror and unfamiliarity, as if she were seeing her for the first time. “You weren’t like this before.”

“People always change, don’t they? Like you, you were so innocent back then, but after what happened, you’re so burdened now,” Mostima said, looking at her.

Upon hearing the word "that matter," Fiameta immediately went into a frenzy. She suddenly yelled at Mostima, "Am I supposed to be like you, able to laugh while watching your friend be beaten into a coma for five years and being powerless to do anything about it?!"

"Young lady, all of humanity's suffering is essentially anger at one's own powerlessness."

A voice came from the jungle. The two looked in the direction of the voice and saw Yarman slowly pulling a boat that he had obtained from somewhere out of the jungle. The boat was very rough, and there were even some tree bark that had not been scraped off, as if it had just been taken out of the tree trunk.

After towing the boat to the shore, Yarman walked up to Fiameta and said calmly, "You seem to have an enemy who hurt your friend. Since you can't let it go, why don't you kill him? Or is it that you can't beat him, or can't find him?"

"I...I can't find him! Otherwise I would definitely..."

“Alright, alright, not being able to find your enemies is a common occurrence.” Yarman exchanged a glance with Mostima and shrugged helplessly. “But even so, you shouldn’t direct your anger at your potential allies. It’s a foolish and ineffective move, isn’t it?”

"Then I..."

"You now have two paths before you: one, let go of your hatred and start a new life..."

"impossible!"

"Alright then, the second point: begin your training, intensify your exercises, enhance your strength, gather allies, accumulate your power, and quietly await the appearance of your enemy. Then, amidst his despairing gaze, deliver a fatal blow!"

"This one……"

“Now that we’ve said all that, we should go.” Yarman took Mostima’s hand and walked toward the rough but sturdy little boat not far away. “If you don’t want to do anything and just want to indulge in your self-indulgent rage of so-called revenge, then you can just keep standing here going in circles.”

After helping Mostima onto the boat, Yarman stood in front of it, gently pushed the boat into the water, then leaped onto the small boat, picked up the oars that had been prepared, and began to row towards the center of the sea.

On the shore, Fiameta watched the two leave, then looked at the gun in her hand, unsure of what to do. Finally, she breathed a sigh of relief and left the beach.

"Do you know who his enemy is?" Mostima looked at Yarman, who was sitting in front of him, rowing the boat with both hands, took out a towel and wiped away the unusually profuse sweat from him.

Even though the weather wasn't very hot, and his body is different from others, why was he sweating so much?

Could it be that things were too intense a few days ago? It seems we shouldn't do it too often in the future, or we'll tire the cow out.

“Oh, I don’t know.” Yarman shook his head bluntly, continuing to paddle toward the center of the sea, panting as he said, “But it seems to be related to you; she seems to be your friend.”

“Hmm…right.” Mostima pondered for a moment, then nodded seriously. “Actually, it’s quite simple. We were in a squad at the time. Our squad leader met the one inside my staff, and then suddenly went crazy and tried to snatch the staff. During the struggle, he shot another person in our squad.”

"and then?"

“Then I shot him too, and then I fell from the sky.” Mostima seemed quite nonchalant, and said with a hint of curiosity, “But the other person didn’t fall from the sky, that’s amazing.”

“Well, you Sarkaz are quite a strange thing,” Yarman said, looking at Mostima. “Especially the halos above your heads and your precepts, they have a religious science fiction feel to them. By the way, have you ever been to the core area of ​​Laterano?”

"No, only popes and a few exceptional individuals have been allowed to go there."

“Alright, it’s normal that you don’t know.” Yarman nodded and said calmly, “There are some ancient Terran civilization’s remnants of technology in there, and that’s what gave you your halo.”

"...There's such a thing?"

“Of course, it’s not particularly difficult to do this.” Yarman continued rowing, looking at the scenery where the sea and sky met, and breathed a sigh of relief. “If I wanted to, I could do it too.”

"Really?"

"There are at least three ways, and I can even change the color and shape of the halo above your head right now."

As he spoke, Yarman put down the oar and placed his hand on Mostima's head, transforming it into a constantly flashing rainbow halo under her curious gaze.

"..."

"What's wrong? Don't you like it? It's so sparkly!" Yarman looked at the halo that kept flashing with seven-colored light and occasionally changing its rhythm, and said with a smile, "It's beautiful!"

"...Change back right now!" Mostima slapped Yarman. "Hurry up, you're making me feel like a kid buying a halo toy on the street."

"Alright, alright." Yarman placed his hand on it again, transforming it into a radiant golden crown shape. "Sun Crown Halo, how about it, do you like it?"

"...Are you out of your mind? I'm ignoring you."

"No! Xiao Mo, I was wrong!"

"...Change back, quick!"

"Okay, a dark gold halo."

"Yalman!"

Chapter 98: Young heartthrob, how much do you cost?

Gently rowing the boat, Yarman said casually, "The water here in Siesta is really strange. It's so deep, yet the light transmittance is so high. We can see the seabed even from the surface."

Just how deep is Siesta?

“It’s about two to three thousand meters deep, and it’s still quite deep,” Yarman replied to Mostima. “There aren’t many fish here, and not many big ones either. They’re mostly small fish and shrimp, but they’re all quite unique. Some are transparent, and some glow.”

Is that what you mean?

"Where did you fish it out of?"

“Right by the boat, look around the boat, it’s full of fish.” Mostima pointed to the area around the small boat, where large schools of various fish were swimming back and forth. These glowing fish were like stars revolving around the moon.

“This is normal.” Yarman reassured Mostima. After all, he was the ruler of life in Terra and naturally possessed a life feng shui field. Wherever he was, the development and lifespan of living beings would be greatly improved. This was even with his deliberate restraint.

After all, he couldn't let the forest devour his mobile city. The incredibly strong trees in Canaan were already causing a lot of trouble for the city government. If he added some other attributes, the city hall would probably go crazy.

Yarman put the oar back into the cabin and sat on the boat, stretching his body leisurely. He no longer needed to row; his people were gathered beneath their emperor's ship, pulling it vigorously in the direction the emperor wanted to go.

Yarman casually took the nearly dying fish from Mostima's hand, infused it with a bit of life energy, and threw the now lively fish back into the water. "These fish will die if they leave the water."

Mostima looked at Yarman curiously, "Why are so many fish swimming alongside the boat, and why do they even know to drag it towards the center of the sea? Is this some kind of witchcraft?"

“Well, this isn’t witchcraft; it’s just my people showing me their loyalty,” Yarman said with a smile. He drew his staff from his robes and tapped it lightly on the surrounding seawater. A flash of emerald light appeared, and the water surged with life.

Just then, a seagull appeared out of nowhere and flew into their boat. The white seagull turned its head to look at the two of them, and finally flew to Mostima's shoulder, gently nuzzling her face.

"Hmm? Cute little thing!"

Watching Mostima gently stroke the seagull, Yarman raised an eyebrow. He leaned against the side of the boat, rolled up his sleeves, and put his hands into the water, feeling the cool water temperature.

"Parapala~~~~~~!"

As soon as Yarman put his hand into the water, the surrounding fish went crazy, all rushing towards his hand and frantically trying to cling to it.

"Alright, alright, stop for a moment." Yarman looked at the still-unstoppable school of fish and finally withdrew his hand helplessly. The strong affinity of these living things was also a problem. These plants and animals all wanted to hang on you forever, making it often troublesome to go on a trip in nature.

"Huh? What are you doing?"

“It seems to really enjoy perching on my shoulder.” Mostima stroked the seagull resting on her shoulder and said with a smile, “What a cute little creature. I thought it would perch on my head.”

"It wouldn't dare."

"Ok?"

“This is usurpation. If it didn’t want to be killed by other creatures after leaving you, it would never have touched your head.” Yarman looked at Mostima and said calmly, “You have already worn my crown and are my queen. To touch your head is to provoke the life laws of the entire world.”

"A courtier can live a comfortable life as long as the emperor is alive, but if he is a rebel, he will die a miserable death unless he has absolute power. If he touches the emperor, his life may be miserable afterward."

"So that's how it is." Mostima touched the seagull on her shoulder again. She didn't know if she was seeing things, but she suddenly felt that the seagull seemed to be much prettier than before, especially its feathers, which were so white that they seemed to be glowing. It also seemed to be much bigger.

"By the way, what time is it now?"

“How should I know? Anyway, the sun is about to set.” Yarman looked at Mostima, who suddenly asked him for the time, and said strangely, “Mobile phone time is synchronized with local base stations, and there are no base stations in the middle of the sea.”