“Now that is a true response from Weed.”
Alveron’s, the paladins’ and the priests’ respect for Weed increased even further.
Weed pulled out all the food ingredients he had. He took out all the meat, grass and vegetables he got from hunting in the Yuroki Mountains.
“Just wait a little bit longer, then I’ll cook up some food that will fill your stomachs.”
With all of the ingredients, Weed started to cook.
Anchovies boiled moderately, thick gravy seasoning mix to create a broth, and he put in plenty of meat into the stew.
Whenever the soup was distributed he could feel his heart breaking.
Trickling.
Out of Weed’s two eyes tears were coming out.
“It’s Saint Weed’s tears!”
“Weed would even shed tears for us.”
“He’s the real deal, doing this for the peace of the continent.”
The surprised villagers of Morata exclaimed.
The tears that trickled down were tears for the precious of loss of money, but the villagers had misunderstood.
'My precious money.'
Weed impatiently pulled out a small piece of paper, and quickly wrote on it.