They're not Erebil's worshippers, he concluded almost immediately.
That realization brought a small—but genuine—sense of relief.
Dealing with worshippers was rarely troublesome because of their strength.
At Riley and Snow's level, such fanatics were insignificant obstacles at best.
The real nuisance was what came after.
Kill enough worshippers, and the being they adored would eventually notice.
And when gods or demons noticed… consequences followed.
Riley exhaled slowly, eyes never leaving the robed figures.
So, whoever you belong to… you're bold enough to reach this far north.
"I'll deal with them. Snow, you go ahead."
Snow stopped mid-step and turned back toward him.
"Are you sure?"
Riley nodded without hesitation.
"Yes. I can't follow you deeper inside anyway. I might as well help you conserve your energy for the trial you have to overcome."
Snow studied his face.
Even without sensing his mana, she could tell—these robed figures weren't ordinary cultists.
