Village Head's Debauchery

"Father, are you okay?" Isadora's voice trembled with emotion, her eyes swollen with tears as she gazed at Patriarch Rylan. Lyndon nodded in silent agreement with his sister's words.

"Patriarch, you scared us half to death. We were afraid something terrible had happened to you. It's a relief to see you finally awake," Leif's voice carried a mixture of relief and concern. Standing beside him, the other gods' chosen nodded solemnly in agreement.

However, instead of responding, Patriarch Rylan looked around the room. "How long have I been unconscious?" he asked, sighing deeply as he couldn't spot the other two warriors, meaning they had long left.

"You've been unconscious for three hours, Father," Isadora responded.

Hearing her words, Patriarch Rylan sighed again. "I am sorry for making you all worry," he said, stretching his hand towards his daughter to soothe the worry buried deep in her eyes before doing the same to his son.

He then shifted his attention towards Leif and the rest of the gods' chosen, silently nodding to reassure them that he was okay.

Leif sighed in relief, then shifted his attention towards the healer standing at the side.

"Thank you for your help. How should we repay you?" Leif asked.

Even though they had saved some wealth, he wasn't sure if it would be enough for the healer, considering their current location and how much she charged. He figured it was more respectful to ask.

However, the healer unexpectedly shook her head in response. "Don't worry about it. The Healers' Association has already received a message from the Village Chief to provide the Four-eared Elves race with treatment for a full month, so there is nothing to worry about," she responded.

Leif was momentarily stunned. He could feel his heart warming at the kind gestures this place had provided for him and his entire race, especially after such an abrupt entry.

Even Patriarch Rylan, Isadora, Lyndon, and the others couldn't help but sigh in defeat when they heard the healer's words. The sentiment of whether they would have done the same if they were in the Village's shoes was shared by everyone in the room.

'I'll definitely find a way to repay them generously in whichever way I can,' Patriarch Rylan thought with a hint of resolution.

Nonetheless, Leif nodded in understanding. "Alright, thank you for your help then. Let me show you the way out," he responded.

The healer nodded with a smile and followed Leif until he led her out of the compound.

Upon Leif's return to the master's bedroom, he found Patriarch Rylan already sitting upright, with the others patiently waiting around him.

Leif paused before Patriarch Rylan. "Patriarch, now that you are okay, can you please explain what all that was about?" Leif asked, his gaze fixed on Patriarch Rylan's figure.

He and the others didn't understand the conversation between the Patriarch and Iris, so they were eager to seek more answers and discover why he had fainted.

"I understand. There's no use keeping this a secret since we are already in this situation," Patriarch Rylan said, sighing tiredly as he noticed the expectant gazes of everyone around him.

"Yes, Father, please explain to us what happened," Isadora said pleadingly.

"Whatever it is, we want to hear it," Lyndon said eagerly.

Patriarch Rylan nodded solemnly. "Are you all aware of what 'Divine Apostles' are?" he asked, observing their confused and bewildered expressions.

"I'm sorry, Patriarch, but I have no idea what 'Divine Apostles' are. This might as well be my first time hearing about such a title," Leif responded, shaking his head in bewilderment.

Isadora, Lyndon, and the rest of the gods' chosen nodded in agreement, indicating their lack of knowledge about the term.

"Okay, it's not surprising that none of you know what a 'Divine Apostles' are. After all, only a few of us are aware of this information, so listen closely. In this world are 'Divine Apostles,' revered individuals bestowed with extraordinary powers or abilities capable of performing wonders directly connected to a divine being."

"Unlike the gods' chosen, who have been blessed with the compatibility to wield and control the Vylkr energy, Divine Apostles are selected by the divine to serve as conduits of their will and instruments of their divine purpose. With all this in mind, I'm sure you all understand why none of you seem to know about them," Patriarch Rylan explained, a deep exhale escaping his lips.

He surveyed their shocked and dumbfounded expressions.

However, Ronan couldn't help but furrow his brows as a frown suddenly emerged on his lips.

"Father... Do individuals like this actually exist?" Isadora asked, her eyes wide with shock as she stared at her father.

Patriarch Rylan nodded solemnly. "Yes, they do. However, from what I know, they can only be found in a few places," he replied.

"Where? And how could such a thing even be kept a secret?" Leif interjected, his voice tinged with disbelief.

He struggled to understand how such individuals could exist without anyone, especially someone like him, knowing about them. After all, he was a gods' chosen, so shouldn't he have known or at least heard about their existence if they were real?

It all seemed utterly ridiculous!

Patriarch Rylan noticed the agitating look in their eyes and sighed deeply, "The only information I have is that these Divine Apostles can only be found in the Sanctuaries and among some Grade 3 Runaway Cities," Patriarch Rylan responded.

Hearing Patriarch Rylan's words, Leif, Isadora, Lyndon, and the others gulped nervously.

Divine Apostles!

Sanctuaries!

Grade 3 Runaway Cities!

It suddenly made sense why they had never heard of such words before. These were the only places where a Divine Apostle could be found.

Suddenly, a realization dawned on their faces as they all gazed at Patriarch Rylan in disbelief once more.

"Patriarch, so that warrior..." Leif began, his eyes widening as he fixed his gaze on Patriarch Rylan.

The others present also stared at him wide-eyed, their gazes trembling with fear as the same thought formed within their minds.

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