Such a heavy blow—even though the mute servant was a frost warrior with an extremely hard skull, he was still knocked senseless. His eyes rolled back, the white light on his dagger vanished completely, and he lost all ability to resist.

Immediately, Devon's axe in his hand cleaved straight down from the opponent's head, almost splitting the mute servant in two, with intestines and blood spilling all over the ground.

The threat was gone. Devon let out a long breath, shivered violently, and shouted, “I’m freezing to death!”

This frost power was truly terrifying. If it had been any stronger, he really wouldn’t have been able to hold on.

He looked at the axe in his hand, only to see that this ordinary wooden axe was completely undamaged—not even a nick on the blade, still shining as if new.

This made him feel extremely relieved. This axe had accompanied him for many years; if it had been destroyed, he would have been heartbroken.

However, he also felt a bit puzzled. He hadn’t forgotten that, in that instant just now, a strange power had flowed from deep within his body, through his arm, and into the axe.

But now wasn’t the time to think about these things—dealing with the immediate trouble was the priority.

Only then did Devon realize that it was quiet all around; not a single person was speaking.

He felt a bit strange and looked up, only to see that these usually familiar townsfolk were now all looking at him with eyes full of admiration.

Among the crowd, a few young men were looking at him with almost worshipful gazes.

Everyone in town knew Devon was strong, but they hadn’t expected him to be this strong. For something as familiar as physical strength, the townsfolk didn’t feel afraid—only genuine admiration.

This guy is really impressive!

After a long while, Nolan came forward, patted Devon on the shoulder, and said with deep admiration, “I’m convinced, Devon.”

Devon scratched his head, but his face was full of worry. “Uncle, just now, to protect myself, I accidentally broke the priest’s neck. I’m afraid I can’t stay in the town anymore.”

The townsfolk were all ordinary people. Hearing Devon’s words, they looked at each other in confusion.

That priestess was caught red-handed and even tried to kill to silence witnesses. Are we supposed to just let her commit murder and not fight back in self-defense? What kind of logic is that!

That was the simple thinking of the townsfolk.

“Devon, what are you afraid of? We’ll all testify for you—even the old mayor can’t blame you!” someone shouted.

But what Devon was worried about was precisely the old mayor. The mayor’s insight was far beyond that of ordinary townsfolk; he definitely understood the seriousness of the situation.

He was afraid the mayor would send guards to arrest him.

He was just one person, with only an axe in hand. Facing those fully armed soldiers, just thinking about it made him feel uneasy.

If he ran now, before word reached the old mayor, maybe he could still escape with his life.

Among all the townsfolk present, the only one who truly understood the seriousness of the situation was Uncle Nolan the hunter. When he was young, he’d been a mercenary, traveled outside, and seen a bit of the world.

He pondered for a moment, then comforted him: “You weren’t wrong to kill him, Devon. You did the right thing!”

With someone taking the lead, the surrounding townsfolk immediately chimed in, “That’s right, Devon, you did the right thing!”

Nolan continued, “Don’t be afraid. Everyone supports you. Come on, let’s all go to the mayor and reason with him. Even if he’s a noble lord, he can’t just do as he pleases!”

“Uncle, I…” Right now, he didn’t dare go to the mayor’s castle to argue—wouldn’t that just be handing himself over to that old guy?

The old mayor had a violent temper. Even if all the townsfolk went together, he might not compromise.

Nolan understood Devon’s concerns. He said softly, “All of us—hundreds of people—support you. Let’s give it a try, take a chance. If you just run away like this, you’ll be branded guilty for sure. The church’s pursuit is no joke.”

That made sense. If the old mayor could speak up for Devon, since the church was in the wrong, Devon might really be acquitted.

But if Devon just ran off without explanation, the church would definitely send the templar knights after him.

Those knights were all elemental warriors, and they also wielded mysterious divine arts—truly terrifying. Even worse, the entire Storm Diocese belonged to the Lord of Radiance’s church; Devon’s chances of survival would be slim.

Devon looked around at the neighbors surrounding him. Everyone was looking at him, their eyes full of support.

He felt a surge of warmth in his heart and nodded in agreement.

So, nearly three hundred townsfolk surged toward the old mayor’s castle. As Uncle Nolan passed his house, he went inside, and when he came out, he was carrying a quiver of hardwood arrows.

He walked up to Devon, personally strapped the quiver to his back, handed him his own sturdy bow, and instructed, “Take these. If things go wrong, you’ll at least be able to protect yourself.”

Nolan had already thought out an escape plan for Devon. He knew this young man’s archery skills well—with this bow, even ordinary wooden arrows would be more than enough for self-defense.

Devon was moved, nodded heavily, and gripped the bow tightly in his hand.

Chapter Six: A Bunch of Lowly Commoners

The old mayor’s castle was built on a hillside to the west of Vito Town.

It was a small castle, three stories high, with more than thirty rooms, built entirely of stone—the most luxurious building in the town.

It was a symbol of the mayor’s wealth and authority.