The situation grew more tense by the second, and the figures in the room beca more apparent with each passing mont.
Ron hurried forward to plead, "Captain, please let him go. Prophet, please guide us out of here." His tone was sincere—after all, he had no desire to die here when the chance of escape was so close at hand.
But Prophet only stared at Drake. Drake's expression was dangerous, and in the end, as if resigning himself, he gritted out, "What do we have to do for you to take us out of here?"
Prophet tilted his head and rasped, "Pray."
Seeing the doubt in Drake's eyes, the Prophet slowly elaborated, "Kneel. Pray with sincerity."
As soon as the Prophet finished speaking, veins bulged on Drake's forehead. He grabbed Prophet by the collar with a force that felt like he wanted to crush everything in his grasp.
His eyes began turning blood-red as if he was about to go berserk. Ron and Fiona remained silent, the air growing heavier than ever.
Outside, Cocona said coldly, "As expected, letting Drake go in was a mistake from the start. He's strong, but he's too arrogant and stubborn!"
Sitting off to the side with his eyes still shut, Silas spoke slowly, "Drake is never wrong, Cocona."
Cocona frowned at that but said nothing more.
In the Dungeon, Prophet continued facing Drake, not looking away. Drake's nace did not frighten him.
Many couldn't help but think—after all, Drake was just a human. A god had no reason to fear a re mortal. Even if the humans died here, the god would not perish; he would leave, just like the angels.
"Captain..." Fiona and Ron hesitated.
But at that mont, Drake suddenly released Prophet's collar and then dropped to one knee.
Ron and Fiona were stunned, and the live broadcast audience erupted in shock.
[Oh my god, Drake knelt before soone! What am I witnessing? What am I seeing?! So he's more responsible than we thought!]
[I always knew Drake was a good person. He might be hot-tempered and eccentric, but he'd never stand by and watch his teammates die.]
[I'm crying, oh god! Why does Drake have to kneel like this?! Do they even know that his knees are made of diamonds?! I hate Prophet! When will this so-called god get eaten by a monster already?!]
Silvanus silently read the comnts: "..." These viewers had no sense of decorum.
[I wish I could reach through the screen and hand a chef's knife to Drake! So frustrating! I hate Prophet too—when will he disappear already?!]
Drake couldn't hear the enraged voices of fans he had never even t. He pressed his hands together before his chest and said slowly, "Prophet, please save us."
Even as he spoke, he didn't lower his head. Instead, he raised it high, his blood-red eyes filled with violence as he glared at Prophet. It was clear there was no sincerity in his prayer.
But Prophet didn't seem to care. It was as if he wanted to see Drake's mont of submission.
"You were disrespectful to the gods just now," Prophet said coldly.
Drake frowned and gritted his teeth. "I sincerely apologize. I will never do so again."
Prophet looked at him and said, "You who have summoned , you shall be my believer from now on. You must protect . Can you do that?"
This ti, it wasn't just Drake—everyone was at a loss for words.
A god asking his believer to protect him? This had to be the weakest god ever. The system announcent had never been more accurate...
Drake had nearly exhausted his lifeti's worth of patience for this prayer. His voice was ice-cold as he said, "I will protect you."
No monster would kill this so-called god—because he would kill Prophet himself.
"Sincerely," Prophet still refused to let Drake off the hook.
The others were already sweating coldly on behalf of this bold deity.
But no matter what, at this mont, Drake had no choice but to submit, bowing his head like a proud dragon being tad.
Prophet stared at him, and just as Drake was about to explode in fury, a drop of blood suddenly hit the ground. The bright red contrasted against the cold floor, catching Drake's attention. Instinctively, he looked up—Prophet was wiping away the blood trickling from his eye. His pale lips moved as he whispered, "The chef's knife can open the door."
[As expected of his na—he is a Prophet! A god appearing out of nowhere... I feel like Drake definitely won't die in this Dungeon. Damn it!]
Drake was montarily stunned, then, moving faster than he ever had, he dashed into the kitchen. He quickly found a large knife—far more significant than any ordinary kitchen knife. Its blade was rusted and chipped, covered in congealed blood and rotting flesh. One look was enough to tell it was a dull, useless weapon.
But Drake didn't hesitate. Using all his strength, he swung the knife at the door. The supposedly sturdy door was instantly sliced apart, letting out a piercing, despairing wail like a crying child.
Ron and Fiona shuddered at the sound, but their faces lit up joyfully.
As the live broadcast exploded with countless reactions, a series of notifications flooded Silvanus' ears.
[Successfully convinced all viewers of Prophet's identity. Gained 1,000 Acting Points!]
[Successfully convinced Ron of Prophet's identity. Gained 100 Acting Points!]
[Successfully convinced Fiona of Prophet's identity. Gained 200 Acting Points!]
[Successfully shaken Drake's perception, initial recognition of Prophet's divine status achieved. Gained 200 Acting Points!]
Silvanus watched as Drake hacked away at the door, his gaze dark and unreadable.
Drake still didn't fully believe he was a god.
But that wouldn't do—Drake was the believer he had chosen.
Silvanus communicated with the system: [Aside from the Acting Points gained from Drake, tally the rest when I leave the Dungeon.]
[Understood, my lord!] the acting system responded swiftly before falling silent.
At that mont, the door was wide open. The remaining ti before the Dungeon reset was now under a minute.
Drake roared, "Go!"
All of them rushed out.
"Wait—sothing's missing!" Ron suddenly exclaid.
Turning back, they saw Prophet still standing there, making no move to escape. The looming figures behind him were closing in, ready to swallow him whole.
Ron spun around in a panic, but soone was even faster than him.
Like an arrow, Drake shot forward, grabbed Prophet, and threw him over his shoulder before bolting out of the room. His loud, irritated voice rang out: "What a damn hassle!"
The force of Drake's shoulder slamming into Silvanus' stomach nearly made him vomit. He had never regretted testing Drake more than at this mont.
Just as they burst out of the room, an overwhelming chorus of wailing children filled the air.
Then, the heavy sound of movent ca again. If they didn't hurry, that monstrous, multi-ard creature would be again on their heels.
Using every ounce of their remaining strength, they sprinted toward their room on the second floor.
Bang!
The door slamd shut behind them, sealing off the deafening screams outside. It took several minutes before the sound finally faded.
At last, Ron and Fiona collapsed to the ground, panting heavily.
Having listened to the terrifying noises outside, Jessica didn't need to ask how dangerous it had been. She glanced at them and then at the figure still slung over Drake's shoulder.
"Is everyone alright?" she asked, though it was nearly a rhetorical question. Her gaze shifted toward Prophet.
Drake, sharp as ever, noticed her look. He turned his head to Jessica, one eyebrow raised in a dangerous arc.
Jessica rely smiled—just like when she had first appeared before them, warm and friendly.
But to Drake, sothing about her felt... off.
A mosquito-like whisper reached his ear as he was about to press her.
"...Put down..."
It was Prophet's voice, sounding like he was about to suffocate.
Once again finding him a nuisance, Drake montarily forgot about Jessica's oddity. With a firm motion, he tossed Prophet onto the only bed in the room.
He had planned to throw Prophet onto the floor, but then he rembered—this guy had just saved their lives.
And with that frail body of his, if he hit the ground...
Drake figured he would be the first to kill this so-called god.
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