The Oriental was lowering his head to study the magic powder thrown by the old priest on him. The dwarf couldn't help but ask curiously. He was so shocked that he suddenly raised his head and looked at the talking dwarf. The dwarf and several companions around him were blinking their eyes and looking forward to him.

"I can understand...uh? Why did I say it too?" A string of awkward words emerged from the mouths of the Orientals.

"That is the priest's magical art of 'Knowing Language' blessed by Old Man Zemur! It allows you to use the common language in a short time!" The half-hell man happily squeezed to the Eastern people. The curiosity of the half-hell man is as famous as their cooking skills. Compared to an oriental man who only knows how to squat on a stone and stares blankly, an oriental man who can speak common language can obviously arouse his interest.

"Pastor Zemur is a second-level priest who believes in the temple of the Earth Mother Goddess ‘Shandia’. After we found you, he used the priest’s divine art ‘primary healing’ and ‘secondary vitality’ to heal you!”

The elf smiled gently, gently outlined the long hair hanging beside his cheeks with his slender fingers, and pushed the blonde hair like metal filaments behind his ears, revealing a delicate and cute slender and pointed ear. The barbarian took the initiative to exchange alert positions with him so that he could come in and warm up.

"Mother Earth God? Pastor? Divine Arts?" The Eastern people repeated those nouns thoughtfully, and the old pastor named Zemuer said gently: "Orients, the first-level divine art 'very language' is the gospel given to the people of the earth by the kind Mother Earth God Changtiya, so that the lives walking on the earth have the opportunity to communicate regardless of race or nobleness. Under the glory of Mother Earth God, the lowly we will use her power to eliminate the world's illness, hatred and sin..."

Pastor Zemur's voice was low and hoarse, accompanied by arias like prayer, and it was so stable that people couldn't help but listen to his words. However, not every listener was willing to accept his teachings. The dwarf with a horned and bronze helmet on his head came over impatiently and used his fat big butt to arch the poor old pastor to the side. The dirty cowhide boots stepped on the stone where the priest had just sat without hesitation. The mud left on the boots left a few shallow footprints on it, which made him look taller.

"Hey! Old Man Zemuer, now is not a good time for you to preach the teachings. This poor foreigner may be more willing to tell us his story!" The rude dwarf looked at the young Oriental man with a flying beard with a wide face and curious eyes: "Oriental young man, can you tell your dwarf friend Fred Fryston, Iron Lure where did you come from?"

"Uh...I came from where the sun rises in the east. As for how I got here, to be honest, I don't know much..." The Orientals themselves seemed to be very troubled.

"Ha! I'll say that when this kid landed, his head hit the ground first!" The half-hell man leaned out from the priest and the dwarf and laughed. When he could only see a head, he felt that he was more like a goat.

"Aladdin! You should be more polite to this poor victim! He may have just been in some trouble!" The elf frowned and blamed him unhappily.

"Okay! OK! I'm just a joke!" The half-hell man excitedly pushed away the dwarf and the priest, squeezed to the Eastern man, and looked at the crystal bottle in his hand curiously: "Hey! Eastern man! Are you a resident of the Mythical Continent? How did you come to the Wild Continent? What's your name? Are you an alchemist? Your little thing that can produce flames is your alchemy work? And what's the potion in this crystal bottle? It smells a bit like fire wine!" The mixed questions made the Eastern man foolishly ask.

Although I thought the Half-Garland man was a little bit verbose, the other members of the adventure team were also curious about the mysterious Oriental man, and even the barbarian who was guarding the cave entrance couldn't help but prick up his ears.

"Uh...I don't know how I got here. I think it should be an accident, right? But I am not an alchemist, is my profession? I can barely be considered a 'writer'?...My name is 'Lin Jia'!" The Oriental man had been clearing the question of the Half-Garland man for a long time, and hesitated for a while before he slowly answered.

"Lin Jia? What a strange name! What profession is 'Blood Hand'? It sounds like some kind of melee fighter, but it doesn't look like you too much!?" asked the Half-Garland man strangely. The grammar used in the Star Continent seems to be somewhat similar to the native language of the Oriental people. His native language translated into a common language and spoken, and it actually has a misunderstanding of homophones.

The oriental man named "Lin Jia" didn't know how to answer, so he had to change the topic and said, "This... I have the opportunity to explain it to you slowly? I think you'd better tell me where I am now and who are you?" Lin Jia, an oriental man who had been worried for three days, finally couldn't help but ask his most concerned questions at the moment.

"You cunning oriental, I'm asking you first! Well! Let's tell you by the great foodie, the hero of the Half-Green, the deputy captain of the Ale and Barbecue Adventurer Squad, I! Aladdin, the most adventurous Half-Green ever of the Black Horn clan? Come and tell you!"

The half-la-la-man stepped on a stone that was originally a stool. The hard sheep's hooves made a crisp sound because of the trampling and the same hard stone, as if they were accompanimenting him to praise him. Unfortunately, before he could say the following words, they were picked up by the barbarian who could no longer bear his nonsense and threw them to the entrance of the cave. The barbarian was tortured by curiosity and was no longer in mind to warn him.

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Chapter completed!