The Secret Code of Monsters.

Chapter 1180 Ch.1179 Unusual Personality
Ildoss was not as 'desolate' as they had imagined—after traveling around for many years, Dave Lawrence had seen most towns and villages like this: some absurd and boring afternoons, noisy children running around, idle men talking while leaning against doorframes with pipes in their mouths, women washing clothes, and sickly crows.

This former gold mining town is no longer prosperous. It seems that the gold diggers who came and went like the wind with their shovels left no trace of wealth here.

Of course, of course.

There's no trace of a 'cult' here—at least not on the surface.

They entered from the east side of the town. The scorching sun was nearing its end, but the evening breeze wasn't as cold as they had expected. The crevices crisscrossed by wooden wheels chewed on the perpetually dry gravel of Ildossinser, and behind some windows lit by oil lamps, Lawrence heard the sound of a flute.

It can be described as 'unusual' because they are melodic and pleasant to the ear.

This is unusual.

"Looks like the gold diggers finally left something useful..." He took out a handkerchief to wipe his sweat. His obese figure meant that he had to carry a clean and refreshing handkerchief all year round, and even when he was not moving, the sweat would still relentlessly tear at his skin and squeeze out.

—Not to mention the prostitutes at times.

Those who can swim will have to pay extra.

“Gold diggers?” The coachman leaned against the rickety frame and scoffed. “What can they leave behind? A trail of scars.”

Look at what this says.

A scene of devastation.

Ordinary people wouldn't speak in such refined language.

Dave Lawrence finally became curious about the people here: "Did they build schools for you?"

"What do you think?" the driver countered.

"I think you built it yourselves—people who use their brains will never be poor. I see now, you're all incredibly clever, aren't you? I think this is also a gift from the 'dragon'... right?"

The portly merchant tried to mention 'dragon,' but the coachman didn't show much emotion.

"Well, we don't ask the gold diggers to do anything. We just want them to quickly clear away all that yellowish waste and leave our home as soon as possible..."

Rupert became interested, covered half his face with his folding fan, and leaned forward to ask, "Whose mine does this belong to?"

"Of course they're ours."

"Who do you mean by 'we,' sir? I mean the owners of the mines, the owners of the land—do you understand what 'owners' means?"

"How can you expect a donkey to understand human speech? Oh dear, but you're not happy walking on your own without the donkey," the coachman said sarcastically. "The mine naturally belongs to all the residents of Ildorsinser—if you're talking about 'temporary holding,' I think it's Mr. Mondes."

Mondes?
"Bruno Mondes, the temporary holder of most of the land and minerals here, is also our mayor and sheriff."

The fat businessman grunted in response.

He was insightful, knowing that in most of the poorest towns, many leaders held multiple positions—because they were so dilapidated and poor that there was no money to be made, and no ambitious or capable people would want to go there.

Bruno Mondes.

It seems that the shadow of gold is about to fall upon this man.

"I've heard that the people in this town live unusually long lives?"

Rupert asked curiously.

“‘Extraordinary longevity’—Miss, look at your choice of words. It’s like that joke about Lady Poor: ‘How unusually ‘resilient’ the young boy who comes to clean my house is!’” The coachman made Roland laugh heartily, which seemed to encourage him, and he spoke even more enthusiastically: “Ah, that’s how people are supposed to live.”

What does it mean that people should live that long?

Rupert furrowed his thin eyebrows. "Should I not explain the meaning of 'abnormal' to an educated person? If you've lived here long enough, you must have seen gold diggers—how old do you think ordinary people outside live?"

The driver replied slowly, "That depends on how many years they want to live." It was truly infuriating.

“Many rumors say it’s because the local residents received a blessing from the ‘dragon.’” Rupert wasn’t annoyed. Just like she’d said in the train carriage, she never got angry with her ‘pets.’

“I think the rumors are true, gentlemen. Perhaps this is why you are here?” The coachman did not hide anything and said frankly, “The dragon blesses this land and the free creatures on it—if we live shorter and shorter generations, then it would probably be called a curse.”

As a devout Orthodox Christian, Theodore found it hard to listen to such jarring and ignorant remarks (perhaps he was the only devout Christian on the bus).

“You really have guts to call an alien species ‘gods’…”

The coachman sneered.

“I advise you to put aside your arrogant faith, otherwise Ildor Sinther will not welcome you.”

"Arrogant faith? The Lady gave us the endless cycle of the four seasons. Without Him, you would suffer greatly!"

The coachman nodded and said, "Yes, but why don't you ask your lady to give you a longer life?"

Roland could see Theodore's face go from 'flat' to 'wrinkled'—to be honest, it's quite amusing to watch someone get angry.

“I do not seek a longer life; this journey is solely to accompany my friend. Sir, I hope you will show my lady some basic respect—even if you are not a follower of the Crowned God, I suggest…”

“You’d better not ‘suggest’ anything,” the coachman interrupted, “and not even if you do. Ildor Sinther is full of ‘non-crown believers.’ Back then, the gold diggers’ team included many priests of the Father of All Things. You see, even with their faith, they still had to bow down to gold, didn’t they?”

The coachman was no child; he witnessed the entire process from the discovery of the gold mine to its depletion—how could anyone easily forget the brilliance and darkness of humanity during that time?
He has seen too much; now, he only believes in the faith left by his ancestors.

Dragon.

This is Ildoss, the Dragon Village, the town of Changle and Changshou, not a place where gold is produced.

"I also advise you all—this may be impolite, but I think you and your friends wouldn't have any unrealistic expectations of the etiquette of a carriage driver, would you? I advise you all, even if you like to talk about gods, don't criticize our faith anymore... Just like those gold diggers, did we stop anyone?"

Theodore finally stopped talking.

The coachman was right. Since they permitted and did not criticize the beliefs of the Crown God believers, they had better keep their mouths shut—at least Eve's teachings did not contain anything like "those who do not believe in me should go to hell."

Eve's followers are quite easy to talk to, unless you disrespect nature, or...

A tree mother encountering a beast's tooth—that's an irreconcilable conflict.

"I agree."

Theodore said softly.

The driver was somewhat surprised, and even turned to look at him: "I was prepared for you to get angry and give me a good whack, and then I would crack the whip and lead you all into the ditch."

Rupert: ...

Only Roland was smiling.

The driver was not entirely satisfied with this instance of humor—he certainly didn't think it was because he hadn't performed well.

"People in big cities really have no sense of humor; I see there's only one person on the bus..."

Roland's eyes crinkled into a smile: "You're not insulting me, are you?"

"The big feet of country folk will leave black mud marks on cashmere carpets, ha!" He flicked the reins, snorted, and lurched the nearly falling-off carriage into the misty town.

Welcome to Ildor-Sinser!

(End of this chapter)