I am the Pope in the Western Fantasy World

This small village along the road was quiet. Everything was different from the bustling city. The carriage was parked at the entrance of the village. They walked around, looking for a house that could accommodate so many of them.

Unfortunately, the scattered houses are very dilapidated and are crumbling under the cover of night. There is not even a fire to resist the darkness. They look particularly desolate and cold in this cold winter day.

Fortunately, after walking along the path for a while, I saw two larger courtyards next to each other in front of me. The courtyards were surrounded by fences. There were two or three wooden houses in the courtyards, and warm light was overflowing.

There was a little girl feeding chickens in one of the yards. When she saw them coming, she shouted, "Someone is coming! Someone is coming!"

The chickens were frightened and ran away in all directions, and the little girl also ran towards the house.

Looking at the two courtyards, they should be two different families, but the two or three wooden houses of one family obviously could not accommodate so many people. The leader walking in front said, "Let's stay separately."

As he spoke, he walked towards another rather quiet courtyard. Mr. Allen, Mrs. Dean and Mr. Dwyer followed him, while Phil Gray and the other three stood where they were, watching the little girl and several adults come out.

A sturdy farmer in numb clothes opened the fence. He had dark skin, messy hair, and looked to be about forty years old. "Are you travelers passing by?"

"Yes, this is in the wilderness and there is no inn. We would like to stay here for one night. Of course, we will pay you." Phil Gray took out five silver coins from his pocket.

This is equivalent to a farmer's income for several months.

He smiled, "Of course, God of Life, we are happy to help a few distinguished guests." He took the silver coins and said to the two women leaning against the door, "Go and prepare some dinner for the guests."

Only then did Phil Gray notice them: an older woman and a girl of about seventeen or eighteen. The woman was holding the little girl who had just fed the chickens in her arms, and she was looking at the group of strangers timidly.

Several people entered the house. Although the wooden house was not big, it was very warm. The stove was burning brightly, and there was an iron pot on it, cooking something.

In the middle of the wooden house is a tattered wooden table, which has an irregular shape due to the missing corner.

The farmer tinkered around outside for a while and handed them a few wooden stakes to serve as makeshift seats.

"These are the only foods we have here. Have some hot soup to warm yourself up." The farmer took the large basin from his wife and took out a bowl for each of them. His wife then brought a plate of yellowish cakes, but the little girl next to him grabbed a cake and ate it directly.

"Don't do that. It's impolite when there are guests here." Her sister, a girl of about seventeen or eighteen, glared at the little girl.

The little girl just smiled slyly.

Patrick touched the little girl's head and looked at the hard-to-swallow food in front of him. He felt a little worried. He walked to the door, then turned back and said to everyone, "We brought some food. It's in the carriage. I'll go get it."

Phil Gray knew this was his excuse; all the food he brought was in his space.

“Isn’t this edible too?”

Eli picked up a cake and started eating it. He then said to the little girl who was also eating a cake, "Brother will perform a magic trick for you."

He took out a lily from his arms. The little girl widened her eyes and looked at his hand eagerly, "Wow!"

Eli handed the lily to the little girl, who smiled happily. He then looked at her sister standing beside her, hesitated for a moment, and took out another lily, "One too, sister."

The girl looked at him shyly and said, "Thank you!" Then she took her sister and walked away.

Patrick returned with his food and cutlery, and even Phil Gray had to admire his attentiveness.

The table was filled with sumptuous food, and Patrick took out a bottle of wine. The exquisite bottle looked like it was good stuff.

The farmer and his wife looked at the food on the table with envy until they heard Phil Gray's voice, "Come and eat some, he brought too much food."

"Thank you, kind sir!" The farmer looked at him gratefully, and shouted to the sisters who had just left, "Ella, bring your sister over here, our guests are treating us to a feast."

The girl and her sister also sat down in the corner nearby and took some of the food that was distributed to them.

Patrick was proud of his preparations. "People over there can't enjoy it." He pointed to the yard next to him.

Unexpectedly, as soon as he finished speaking, he heard a knock on the door. The farmer opened the door and saw a strange old man with long hair.

"He is also our companion. Can we invite him in and have a seat?" Phil Gray said. The person at the door was Mr. Dwyer.

"of course."

Dwyer came in and saw that they were enjoying good food and wine. He smiled and handed over a yellow cardboard. He said to Eli, "Today in the carriage, you asked me where the golden butterfly flowers grow. I went back and thought about it and listed a few books. These books may have the answers you want."

Eli stood up and took the cardboard. There was a flower painted on it. Although it was relatively abstract, you could still see its petals that looked very much like a butterfly. It looked very beautiful. Below the flower was its introduction and some book titles.

"Can I take a look at the butterfly flowers? I saw a lot of butterfly flowers when I was managing the farm before." said the girl named Ella.

Although he knew that what she saw was just an ordinary butterfly flower, Eli still handed over the cardboard.

The girl looked at it and touched the cardboard. "I've never seen such hard paper, but the flowers are really the same as what I saw, pink and purple, very beautiful. Do you want to find this flower? I can take you there." She looked at Eli again, seeming a little embarrassed.

"Thank you, let's talk about it next time. We have other things to do this time." Eli said apologetically.

"You are still drinking. Let me see what kind of wine it is. Oh, this is the wine produced by the God of Food Cult in the East Continent. You really know how to enjoy life. You carry such good wine with you." Dwyer picked up the bottle of wine on the table, turned his back, looked at the bottle in the light from the stove, opened the lid and sniffed it, as if he was going to pour it into his mouth.

"We haven't had a drink yet!" Patrick said hastily, "Just pour you a glass."

He snatched the wine from Dwyer, but was embarrassed to keep it all to himself, so he poured a glass for everyone present, either using a bowl or his own glass, including the little girl of five or six years old.

"This is wine. Little girls can drink it too." Patrick said with a smile, but his joy turned into sorrow. The remaining one third of the wine and the bottle were snatched away by Dwyer, leaving only his laughing back.

"Oh, that's too much!"

Eli rolled his eyes at him and put the cardboard into the space stone. Of course, in the eyes of the farmer's family, it was just another magic trick.

"I want to rest now, you guys eat."