"Welcome, seekers of knowledge from afar."
The Divination Master welcomed the two of them, waving his purple robe as a pair of hands covered in sores emerged, gently placing them on the small table in front.
A sweet scent rose from the incense burner, dulling the stench inside the wrecked ship's remnants, but Bologue felt more vigilant rather than comforted by it.
Bologue had encountered similar tricks in the wandering crossroads, where the scent contained a mild nerve toxin—not enough to take down an adult, but capable of interfering with your consciousness to a certain extent, making you a plaything of the other party with just a bit of guidance.
Lebius said emotionlessly, "Are you sure you have the information we want to know?"
The Divination Master laughed hoarsely, the sound drifting through his robe like a cold wind through the corridors.
"You haven't asked yet, how do I know?"
