“You’re the Chief High Priest?”
Hans’s voice was thick with disbelief and shock.
Gelte beside him was no better; the expressions on both their faces were eerily synchronized, mixed with awe and a bewildered “Am I dreaming?” look.
Shi Hanfeng felt his heart skip a beat.
Oh no, this is bad!
Judging from their reactions, healers in this world don’t have much power, huh.
Or maybe, his own skills were too overpowered?
He honestly hadn’t expected this. From his perspective, the skills that came with the Rochet template were excellent but not enough to cause a commotion. After all, he was just a newly loaded template newbie without any equipment boosts, and his base stats were only slightly above ordinary people.
Just being able to heal serious injuries made you a Chief High Priest?
Still, this was good news.
It meant the combat power of this world probably wasn’t too ridiculous.
At least, goblins, the beginner village monsters, weren’t all battle masters.
But right now, he had to clarify quickly.
Being unworthy of a title could cause big trouble. If the other party really thought he was a Chief High Priest but then discovered he didn’t know any basics and reported him to the temple, even if nothing happened, his mission would be ruined.
“Ahem!”
Shi Hanfeng hurriedly cleared his throat, trying to recall from the template’s memory how Rochet would handle such situations.
He waved his hand, the movement smooth and natural, carrying an elegance and friendliness etched into his bones.
“Sir Hans, Sir Gelte, you’ve misunderstood!”
He shook his head slightly, letting a helpless smile show at just the right moment.
“I’m not some Chief High Priest. To be honest, I’m just a humble traveling merchant.”
“Traveling merchant?!”
Hans and Gelte almost spoke in unison, the shock in their tones instantly shifting to an expression of “Are you kidding me?”
Hans’s bloodshot eyes scanned Shi Hanfeng’s uniquely crafted, sharp-cut dark gray combat uniform, then glanced at the distinctive Wufeng Sword beside him, and finally fixed on Shi Hanfeng’s face—a handsomeness under the flickering firelight that seemed to come with its own soft filter, almost unreasonably good-looking.
If you’re going to lie, at least try harder—strange clothing, unusual weapon, a face more beautiful than an elf…
All the key points checked, yet neither doubted Shi Hanfeng’s identity.
“Yes, traveling merchant.”
Shi Hanfeng maintained a calm and composed demeanor, beginning to weave a story half true and half false.
“It’s quite shameful to say, but I’m just an ordinary person. A few hours ago… I was inexplicably teleported to this place.”
He spread his hands in a helpless gesture.
“It all happened so suddenly. Except for a self-defense weapon, I have nothing left.”
He let out a long sigh, his emerald eyes sincerely meeting Hans’s gaze.
“So, to encounter you all in this wilderness is truly fortunate for me. May I ask, where exactly is this place?”
Hans and Gelte were left a little dizzy by this half-truth, half-lie tale of a traveling merchant.
There were many holes in Shi Hanfeng’s words—what kind of merchant would encounter something as high-level as teleportation?
But it didn’t matter. Under the filter of a life-saving benefactor, a strong skill-user, and a touch of personal charm, those trivial doubts melted away like thin snow under sunlight.
Who cared what identity the bigshot truly had?
If the bigshot was willing to use a “traveling merchant” cover to chat with them, that was already a sign of regard!
Could someone like that possibly harm them?
In these times, if you could grab the thigh of someone who could pull you back from death’s door with a wave, what did it matter if they were a merchant or a priest?
Just hold on tight!
Hans immediately straightened his back, which had been hunched from exhaustion, now snapping upright. He wore a broad grin, his large hand slapping the chest of his lockmail with a dull “clang, clang.”
“I understand! I understand, Mr. Rochet! Don’t worry! Whatever you want to know, just ask me, Hans! I’m so familiar with this area it’s like my own backyard!”
Gelte beside him nodded so vigorously his head almost left an afterimage.
“Right, right! Mr. Rochet, ask anything you want!”
Okay, safe landing achieved!
Maintaining that perfect balance of gentle detachment, Shi Hanfeng offered a refreshing smile.
“You two are too kind. A chance meeting is also a kind of fate.”
He adjusted the Wufeng Sword at his side, pointing the tip down, the movement graceful and natural.
He paused to organize his words, then asked with curiosity,
“As I mentioned, I’m a stranger to this land, knowing nothing of its ways. If it’s convenient, could you give me a simple introduction to this place? For instance, what is this forest called? Are there any human settlements nearby? And…”
His gaze swept over Hans and Gelte’s worn equipment, then landed on Jemie, who was unconscious but breathing steadily.
“What do brave adventurers like yourselves usually seek in these woods?”
A question in his field of expertise!
Hans’s spirits lifted, feeling the dignity of a seasoned adventurer return.
He cleared his throat, trying to make his explanation as simple as possible.
“Mr. Rochet, the forest under your feet is called the Border Forest!”
Hans’s voice carried a hometown pride.
“The name is simple and direct—it’s a natural barrier along the western border of our human kingdom. The forest is full of special products, all sorts of things—herbs, wild beasts, and of course… those annoying pests.”
He curled his lip, clearly looking down on goblins.
“Deeper to the west, that’s the true wilderness! Monsters run wild there, too dangerous for small teams like us to enter.”
He pointed in a general direction, his expression briefly serious.
“The nearest town to this forest is Ximu Town. If you walk fast, you can reach it in about three hours. It’s a lively little border town—small but with all the necessities. Inns, blacksmiths, general stores, everything you need.”
Hans paused, then added,
“But the real big place is the City of Water. It’s one of the kingdom’s top cities, very prosperous! But it’s much farther from here—several days’ journey.”
“As for the three of us…”
Hans gestured to Jemie and himself, a wry smile of a struggler at the bottom of society crossing his face.
“We just accepted a commission from the Adventurers’ Guild in Ximu Town and ended up here. There’s no choice—it’s for a living.”
“I see.”
Shi Hanfeng nodded at the right time, his emerald eyes showing understanding, though his mind was racing.
Border Forest, Ximu Town, City of Water, Adventurers’ Guild, clean-up commissions…
A classic fantasy world setup. However, the place names were too generic to pin down specific details.
He paused, his gaze again sweeping over Jemie’s steady breathing and the worn lockmail and chipped longsword on Hans and Gelte.
His tone carried genuine apology and a fitting touch of humility.
“Speaking of which, my minor healing skills were able to help a little in a critical moment. It’s at least a way to make up for intruding upon your camp earlier. I feel quite embarrassed.”
“Hey! Mr. Rochet! Please don’t say that!”
Hans slapped his thigh, his voice rising in pitch.
“If not for you, who knows if my partner would have survived! We’re the ones who should be grateful! Even if you had burned the whole camp for firewood, we wouldn’t have complained!”
His face was full of ‘You’re being too polite’ expression.
“You have no idea,”
Hans began counting on his rough fingers, as if tallying lost gold coins.
“For Jemie’s wound just now, if we’d had to find a cleric or buy a potion in town, do you know how much it would cost? Even the most basic healing potion costs a whole gold coin at the Adventurers’ Guild counter in Ximu Town!”
“A gold coin!”
Hans’s voice was filled with the misery of poverty.
“That’s enough for the three of us to stay two days in the best inn, ‘Oak Barrel,’ eat meat and drink wine every meal, and even take this pile of junk to Old John at the blacksmith to have it hammered out! If we scrimped, it could last half a month.”
Gelte nodded like a woodpecker, his face full of lingering fear.
“Exactly! We were already dirt poor on this trip, so we were just sticking to the forest edge, hoping to catch a few small commissions like clearing wild wolves, wild boars, or picking some worthless herbs to make ends meet.”
“But what happened? A poor guy ran into a streak of bad luck—Jemie stepped right into that damn trap! If we hadn’t met you, Brother Rochet…”
He let out a heavy sigh, his face a mix of fear and relief.
“Jemie’s leg would have been ruined! He might not even have survived till dawn! We’d have had to borrow money for expensive life-saving medicine, and even then, he might not make it… This trip, we lost everything but our underpants!”
A fortune.
Shi Hanfeng listened quietly, the gentle smile on his lips unchanged, but inside, he was quickly sketching out a picture of this world’s realities.
Low-level adventurers were in dire financial straits, and medical resources were extremely expensive and scarce.
A gold coin had strong purchasing power—enough that even adventurers found it a substantial sum. For ordinary people, it would probably take ages to save up.
The information was sufficient. It was time to get to the main topic.
Shi Hanfeng nodded slightly, his face showing heartfelt empathy.
“Such expensive potions are indeed troublesome. But as you said, life is priceless. To be able to save someone in time is a blessing. Next time, though, you should definitely bring more supplies—especially emergency medicine.”
He shifted his gaze to Hans.
“Sir Hans, you mentioned earlier that Sir Jemie fell into a goblin trap? Is there a goblin tribe lurking nearby?”
“Goblins?!”
At the mention of the word, Hans’s face twisted in unconcealed contempt and disgust, as if talking about maggots writhing in a garbage heap. He even waved his hand in front of his nose as if he could actually smell the stench.
“They’re a bunch of worthless trash! Dirty, smelly, more cowardly than rats, completely useless.”
He waved his hand forcefully, as if shooing flies away.
“Let me tell you, Mr. Rochet. A healthy adult farmer, as long as he has a sharpened pitchfork and yells while charging, can scare them so badly they piss themselves and run off! A young man with some sword training and strength can handle two or three goblins by himself—it’s nothing!”
Hans puffed out his chest, as if he was that very strong youth who could take on ten.
“They only dare to bully unlucky travelers or unprepared villagers when they’re in a group or using sneak attacks.”
Hans snorted disdainfully.
“Face them head-on, and they’ll run faster than rabbits!”
Gelte chimed in, contempt nearly oozing from his words.
“That’s right! Their traps? Ha! Ridiculous! At most, they’ll dig a shallow pit, stick a few crooked wooden stakes in it, cover it with rotten leaves, and hope someone breaks a leg falling in.”
“Or they’ll set up some broken hemp rope in the grass to trip you. If that doesn’t work, it’s like the one Jemie stepped on—a rusty old beast trap, probably stolen from some unlucky hunter.”
He curled his lip in a “how can anyone fall for this?” expression.
“If you just paid a little attention to where you’re stepping, there’s no way you’d fall for such a low-level trick! But Jemie, who’s usually sharp, somehow managed to trip up today. Lost us face as adventurers!”
Shi Hanfeng listened quietly, his face attentive, fingers unconsciously tapping the rough hilt of the Wufeng Sword.
Tap, tap, tap.
A creeping sense of unease snaked up inside him.
Something’s wrong. Very wrong.
According to Hans and Gelte, goblins were incredibly weak—anyone could bully them.
But in reality?
Their companion, a rogue who might not have been very experienced, was gravely injured by a goblin trap and nearly died.