What is an offensive priest?

Chapter 3 Magic requires chanting, but fists don't!

He pondered for a long time.

Richard decided to go in and take a look anyway.

At the same time, he secretly clutched a scroll containing the spell "Grease the soles of your feet" in his hand.

This was recently obtained from a passing monk, specifically for dealing with special situations.

Inside the church shrine.

A hoarse voice drifted from afar, carrying a hint of grumbling and complaining.

"The northern part of Sword Coast is so vast, and our compass is broken. Where are we supposed to find that Campion?"

"Don't worry, she's injured, she can't get far."

Sharon, dressed in a pristine white nun's habit, was healing a drowsy mage with deep purple skin and cascading silver hair.

However, the other person's gaze remained fixed on the nun's graceful body without any attempt to conceal it.

Not far away, a thief wearing leather back armor was polishing his scimitar, with a crossbow hanging from his waist.

There is another one, who stands out the most.

He stood by the window where the light was best, his short, golden hair neatly combed and shiny, gleaming like molten gold in the slanting sunlight.

His silver armor was spotless and meticulously maintained, with even the holy emblem engraved on his breastplate shining brightly.

He was watering the flowers with a watering can, singing praises to nature.

Upon seeing the unfamiliar team before him, Richard secretly breathed a sigh of relief.

But he still held the iron Bible tightly in his hand and never put it down.

Everyone noticed him, and several pairs of eyes turned to him at once.

"Are you the resident pastor here?"

Richard flashed his signature smile, friendly and amiable.

"Adventurers who have traveled from afar, on behalf of the Lord of Dawn, I welcome you!"

The thief beside him, with keen senses, caught the aura of divine favor emanating from Richard and spoke in a playful tone.

"I thought he was just a charlatan in a white robe, but it turns out there really is a priest in this remote town."

The blond paladin was quite cultured; not only was he well-dressed, but his voice also carried an air of nobility.

"My name is Kro Sterme, and I'm from the Baldur's Gate adventure party."

"Not long ago, we were attacked by a nest of goblins in the Wailing Mountains, and some of my companions were injured."

"Having heard that there is a priest's shrine in the nearby Blackrock Town, I came here seeking treatment."

Then, he added an emphasis.

"We will pay the corresponding compensation."

Richard shook his head.

"Providing healing to the injured is the doctrine of the followers of the Lord of Dawn."

The thief let out a short, mocking laugh, as if he had heard something utterly absurd, and nearly cut his hand while wiping his knife.

"Huh, did I hear that right?"

"This is the funniest joke I've heard all year!"

Richard didn't mind his offense and probed their intentions with his words.

"Baldur's Gate is far from Blackrock Town, what brings you here?"

The paladin sized up Richard, hesitated slightly, and then spoke.

"We were commissioned by the Duke of Rivendare to pursue a wounded Cambylon and have come all the way here."

"But the devil is always cunning; she deliberately lured us to the goblin's lair and took the opportunity to slip away."

Campion?

The arrival of the Nine Hells' demons in Faerûn is not good news.

Richard frowned and pondered, but then the paladin continued.

"As you can see, our team is short of a priest. I wonder if you would be interested in joining? I guarantee the rewards will be very generous."

"Of course, this mission also carries a certain degree of danger."

Richard remained silent in the face of the paladin's invitation, not letting the so-called reward cloud his judgment.

If what they say is true, and the Cambylon escaped to the vicinity of Blackrock Town, it will inevitably attract a lot of attention.

Given my current situation, the best course of action is to deal with that Cambylon before those important figures notice.

Richard sized up the group; it was a makeshift team assembled on the spot, so there was little chance of them betraying him.

However, that demon from the Nine Hells, even injured, is not an easy problem to solve.

"The demons of the nine levels of hell cannot be killed, and I don't want to incur the wrath of a demon."

After some thought, Richard gave his reasons for refusing.

Clooney understood Richard's concerns, but he did not give up.

"As far as I know, that demon is not a projection, but rather its true form has come to the material plane through some means."

Richard paused upon hearing this.

"you mean……"

Kro nodded, a sharp glint in his brown eyes, and lightly pressed his hand on the hilt of his sword, speaking solemnly.

"That's right, if we kill that Cambylon in Faerûn, it won't be resurrected in the Nine Hells!"

Unexpectedly, the Cambylon risked its own destruction to descend in its true form, which made Richard curious about its purpose. These Nine Hell Demons were most adept at scheming and plotting.

"ah--"

As the two were pondering this, they suddenly heard the nun's scream.

It was that Drow mage who tried to take advantage of Sharon's treatment to touch her soft, delicate hands.

"Everyone says the messenger of Losanda is beautiful and chaste, and she truly is!"

The drow elf named Avir had a hoarse laugh and stared at Sharon with malicious intent in her crimson eyes.

Sharon recoiled as if stung by a scorpion, staggering and bumping into a hard chest.

Richard gently supported her trembling shoulders, his eyes slightly cold.

He tried to grope my nun right in front of me.

Do you not respect me, the person in charge of Blackrock Town?

"Is this your sincerity?"

His voice wasn't loud, but it was like a stone thrown into a stagnant pool, breaking the church's false tranquility.

The paladin's silver armor creaked heavily as he stepped between the two, reprimanding his comrade in a low voice.

"When are you going to change this habit?"

"Don't let the reputation that the ranger Twisted Fate has worked so hard to earn be tarnished!"

Having said that, he turned to Sharon, placed his right hand on his chest, and gave a standard knightly salute.

"Beautiful lady, I apologize for his rudeness."

Richard did not give up. He looked past the paladin in front of him and stared intently at the arrogant drow mage.

"You're not the one who should apologize."

Noticing Richard's gaze, Master Zhuoer didn't take it to heart, his sharp and sarcastic voice filled with mockery.

"A minor priest at a rural temple."

"So what if I don't apologize? Are you challenging me?"

As he spoke, he deliberately adjusted the silver adventurer's badge on his chest to highlight his identity.

The other thief companion didn't speak, but he squinted and looked at Richard with a meaningful gaze, observing his attitude.

Although mages play a more supportive role in the team in the early stages.

But it's not something a priest can easily mess with.

He didn't think Richard would dare to challenge Avel.

Sister Sharon, worried about Richard, secretly clenched her fingers around his cuff and whispered something.

"Please don't bother with such a small matter... I'm begging you."

Richard looked calmly at the panel that appeared above the head of the Drow Mage.

[Background unknown; identity may be concealed or disguised using magical items]

If you want to cooperate with someone who is deliberately hiding their identity, you must find out their background beforehand.

"As you wish."

"In the name of Losanda, I, Reverend Richard, issue you a challenge to war!"

The news spread like wildfire across the wheat fields.

The gravel open space in front of the temple has been turned into a natural arena by the villagers, and even the tree branches are full of children with bright eyes.

"Who do you think will win this duel?"

"Of course it's Pastor Richard! I've seen him crush a ghoul's head with one hand!"

"But the dark-skinned elf's fingernails were glowing, and he was an adventurer from Baldur's Gate."

Nearby, Kro was giving instructions to the Drow mage.

"Don't make a big deal out of it."

"Don't worry, I know what I'm doing."

Although Klopp wanted to recruit Richard into the team, the condition was that Richard wouldn't be a liability.

This is a good opportunity to test the waters.

Sharon took the ceremonial cloak from Richard, her deep blue eyes fixed on his back, her hands clasped to her chest as she silently prayed.

Master Zhuoer arrived at the center of the open space, his tone still mocking.

"Spells aren't some kind of blessing trick played by a country priest. If you admit defeat now, you can go back and light your candles with dignity."

Seeing that Richard did not respond, Avel stopped provoking and used his superior intelligence to analyze the battle situation.

The priest's Evocation spell is nothing more than the first-circle spell, Tracer Bullet.

In terms of power and speed, it is far inferior to the magic missile.

As long as he casts the spell normally, he really can't imagine the possibility of losing.

But why did that person give him a strange feeling...?

The duel began.

The mage did not make any move, but kept a close eye on Richard's actions.

I saw his hand suddenly grasp the holy emblem on his chest that radiated the light of the sun.

This is the standard opening gesture a priest uses before casting a spell!

coming!

Is it a tracer bullet, or a command spell?

While his mind raced, Avel waved his wand and began to chant.

"Arcana Telum!"

As the incantation was recited, magical energy continuously condensed.

But to his surprise, the country priest did not use any divine magic to fight back.

Instead, he strode forward like a boorish martial monk.

The fist, as big as a sandbag, shimmered with the dazzling light of the Light spell, and grew larger and larger before my eyes.

thump—

Under the watchful eyes of his other adventurer teammates and the villagers of Blackrock Town.

Before the arrogant Drow mage could even cast a spell, he was knocked down by Richard with a single punch, like a clumsy wooden stake.

Magic requires chanting, but fists don't!

Richard flicked his wrist.

What are you muttering about? Take this punch!