But in Tim's eyes, it was nothing more than a tempting fat sheep.
Because when he came in, Tim had seen his face.
Delicate features, pale complexion, like a pretty boy on the run.
Tim guessed his identity.
Rhein's little priest, huh.
The characteristics were too obvious.
So Tim skillfully served the little priest three cups of wine, then smiled and said, "Enjoy."
The wine naturally had a problem, but one that wasn't obvious at first glance.
Tim knew Rhein's priest had the ability to detect poison, but it didn't matter. Because these three cups were harmless individually, but together they became poisonous, unless consumed in a specific order.
And this order was known only to the maker, Tim.
So, this little priest in front of him either wouldn't drink at all or could only drink one cup to survive.
But Tim knew he wouldn't do that, because those priests fleeing from Rhein trusted Rhein's spell absolutely.
"Come on, little fat sheep."
