Just then, a burly old farmer walked in from outside.
Though this description sounded weird, anyone who saw him would probably think the same thing.
Over two meters tall—in this day and age, most knights couldn't reach that height. His body was robust, all muscle at first glance, but his hair was already gray. You could tell at a glance he was getting up there in years.
He was the greatest authority holder of the Church of Agriculture in the mortal realm, the Hunting Pope of the Church of Agriculture.
The Goddess of Agriculture's most devout follower.
The moment he appeared in this room, everyone perked up and bowed in greeting.
"Your Holiness."
"Your Eminence."
"How are the preparations?"
The Hunting Pope looked around before speaking.
"Everything's ready. Support from the Church of Love and Beauty has also arrived, but we're not planning to use their people on camera. They'll just be coordinating with us off-camera..."
