I looked at the old-fashioned kerosene lamp.
It seemed to be just a well-cleaned iron lantern, but the flame inside was unusual. It emitted a pure white glow. Upon closer inspection, it wasn't even a flame but rather a white light condensed to look like one.
Before this, even when unscrewing nearby steel pipes, the cartographer never put the lantern down. At most, he hung it on his cloak—always keeping it close. It was obvious how much he valued this lantern.
I could sense a strange yet faint fluctuation emanating from the lantern. Different from the mana fluctuations of a demon hunter, it was more like a natural rhythm. It was rare to feel such a fluctuation on this land where nature was already dead.
"What is it?" I asked.
"It's the 'blessing,'" the cartographer said.
"Blessing," I said. "Is it the 'blessing' of a Blessed Monk?"
Was this white-glowing lantern related to the power source of the Blessed Monks?
