In the early morning of the second day, the streets were desolate, with only some merchants preparing to set off, as if the workers had not yet gotten up.

Jess asked a few caravans and then came back to Grit with a sense of helplessness, "There's some bad news. These merchants are either going to Flashgold Town and Stormwind, or to Moon Creek Town. It looks like we might have to walk to Crow Ridge on our own."

"Walk on our own, are you kidding?" Grit said unhappily, "Do you want to bodily cross the Nafiri River?"

"We could find a bridge to cross," Jess suggested.

"To walk and then go south to find a bridge?" Grit groaned in pain, "That would take too much walking. Wouldn't we arrive at Crow Ridge the day after tomorrow? I really regret coming out with you. I want to go back to Stormwind!"

"Are you two heading to Crow Ridge?"

A brand-new covered wagon stopped beside them, Jess glanced at the four horses in front, all boasting beautiful coats, unlike the scrawny old horses, resembling wild donkeys, that were used in the cargo wagons they had ridden in before.

The speaker was a man in his fifties, dressed in a grey robe, holding a long staff in his arms, with the staff's handle wrapped around a beautiful gemstone.

He wore on his chest a semblance of the Holy Light, a semi-circular cross badge, signifying he was a clergyman of the church.

"Yes, sir," Jess said. "Could you give us a lift?"

"Of course," the cleric said. "Gentlemen, you may sit in the back, there's no space left here."

Jess peered inside to see a paladin in a blue shirt squeezed in with the clergyman, leaning on a shield, holding a package of chainmail on the floor, while the other two clerics opposite were trying to tuck in their feet because of the package. The clerics were also holding several stacks of books, and the wagon's roof was packed with all kinds of large boxes, indeed bearing a considerable load.

In the back seats of the wagon sat another male cleric, beside him were several travelers like Jess and Grit, with only a few empty seats left.

"Praise the Holy Light!" Grit climbed onto the wagon excitedly, a young cleric across watched the dwarf sit down with a smile, as if the doctrine of the Holy Light had just been perfectly propagated.

"Excuse me, how much is the fare?" Jess asked after sitting down.

"We don't take money," the young cleric said. "It so happens we're heading to Grantown, passing Crow Ridge on the way."

"I love the Holy Light," Grit said. "I've loved it since my time in Eagle Nest City."

"The Holy Light also loves every hopeful heart like yours," the young cleric said with a smile.

Jess never had specific thoughts about the Holy Light. As a child, he once prayed to it out of curiosity, given that the Holy Light truly exists in this world, he felt no need to cling to his former atheistic views and stubbornly oppose a fantasy world.

As expected, the Holy Light never responded to his calls.

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

It did not heal him when he was injured, did not soothe his heart when he was sad, did not stop the severe diarrhea that nearly cost him his life after eating roasted river crabs.

Yet, he had indeed witnessed clerics invoking the Holy Light to cure others' diseases, indicating perhaps the Holy Light didn't pay much attention to him, an "outsider."

"What are you doing in Grantown?" Jess asked curiously.

"Curing diseases," the cleric said. "Haven't you heard? The southern Elwynn is plagued by disease and necrotic contamination, with many people in Grantown sick and the medical capabilities severely lacking. We are commanded by Archbishop Alonsus Faol to go there and support our church brothers."

Jess looked up at the boxes tied to the wagon's roof, asking, "So, are those filled with potions?"

"Some of them," the cleric replied. "Others are food, medical books, etc. If you'd like, when we rest at Crow Ridge, I can give you some."

"Ah, thank you," Jess said. "But, I think the residents of Grantown need help more than us."

The cleric smiled and said, "You're young and seem very capable. Are you interested in helping at the Cathedral of Light in Stormwind?"

Jess had considered becoming a clergyman, but as mentioned earlier, he didn't quite connect with the Holy Light, so he simply never approached the church.

This was his first time having such a long conversation with a member of the Holy Light's church. The other's friendliness and warmth even made him a bit uncomfortable. Even he, who would instinctively become wary around proselytizers, felt a bit softened.

Of course, he knew, this was primarily because the other was willing to take them to Crow Ridge.

But in Azeroth, a dangerous place where ordinary people live in hardship and difficulty, isn't this precisely the kind of help they need in times of snow and ice?

Perhaps it's for this reason that, no matter how many disasters they went through afterwards, the Holy Light remains the most widespread and deeply rooted faith in these lands.

"I'll consider it," Jess said.

"That's wonderful, even your consideration is an honor," the cleric said.

"I want some," Grit said. "I know that fruit in the cathedral is especially delicious; you wouldn't happen to have it, right?"

"That thing is called Sunfruit," the cleric took a small cloth bag from behind, pulling out a golden-yellow fruit resembling an orange, asking, "Is this what you're talking about?"

Grit took one and immediately bit into it, his lips glistening with golden juice.

"Yes, that's the taste, so sweet!"

Watching Grit enjoy the fruit, Jess licked his lips, and the cleric had already handed him a fruit, "Want to try?"

Jess took a bite, feeling a bit sour, the taste was like a plum, more fragrant but not as sweet.

Considering that this world might not have the 21st-century breeding technology, having such delicious fruit was already quite an achievement, far better than the poor-quality fruits he had in Lordaeron.

The cleric told many stories about the church's battles against orc invasions in Redridge Mountains, Hillsbrad Foothills, and some heroics of the newly established Order of the Silver Hand, some of which Jess hadn't even heard of.

He was surprised when the cleric also mentioned one of the leaders of the Silver Hand, a prominent character in the Warcraft game world, who later became one of the Alliance's leaders, Tirion Fordring.

Listening to the stories, exchanging knowledge about the Orc Wars over the years, Grit, animatedly talking all the way, even got the initially quiet travelers involved.

Time flew fast, and by noon, after eating their prepared food, the wagon had reached the bridge over the Nafiri River.

After crossing the bridge, the wagon continued alongside the riverbank, slowly approaching the Duskwood. Grit kept an eye on the direction the wagon was going, wanting to see when the sky would start to darken, while the cleric and a few travelers were napping.

Jess kept watching the expansive Nafiri River, the continent's longest river, flowing from the mountains where Karazhan was located through Elwynn, extending to the southernmost tip of Stranglethorn Vale into the sea.

The midday sun shone on the water, the sparkling waves were spectacular.

While watching, Jess suddenly saw something white floating among the water grass not far away.

He tapped Grit and asked, pointing to it, "What is that?"