After listening to Gon’s long-winded explanation, Silvanus could only offer one remark—His acting was truly impressive!
[How did you figure it out?!] The Acting System suddenly popped up as soon as Silvanus had that thought.
Silvanus replied coldly, [I told you not to read my mind. His facial expressions were a little inconsistent at tis. Maybe it’s an experience from my past life? My previous job must have been related to acting.]
Deep in thought, Silvanus reflected on the system’s reminder. Even without it, he had already found Gon sowhat suspicious.
Perhaps the story Gon told was partially true, but there was no doubt that he was hiding sothing. After all... how could there be real humans inside a dungeon?
To the others, Prophet appeared indifferent to Gon’s desperate plea. Drake shot Prophet a glance, about to say sothing—when a sudden, piercing scream rang out from outside.
"Help! Help us!"
"Ahhh, it itches! It itches so much!"
It was Robert’s voice—but unlike his usual arrogance, it was now filled with agony and terror.
The group exchanged glances before rushing outside.
The mont they stepped out, they saw Robert staggering, his body unsteady. His clothes had been partially corroded, and his exposed skin was covered in painful red welts. Tiny, blistering boils swelled across his body, oozing a sickly yellow fluid in so areas, making him look utterly grotesque.
He scratched furiously, bursting the blisters, causing yellowish pus and blood to streak down his body. His face twisted in pain, yet he couldn’t stop scratching—almost as if the itch had burrowed into his flesh.
Gon frowned at the sight. "They must have gone into the Leaf Forest! There’s a special thod to harvest the leaves—if you enter recklessly, you’ll be in danger!"
With that, he grabbed Robert’s arm and looked at the others. "I’ll take him for treatnt. You all should go get your friend back!"
Without waiting for a response, he dragged Robert away. Strangely, despite Robert being a grown man, he couldn’t resist Gon’s grip and was quickly pulled along.
"Let’s go," Silas said, leading the way in the direction Robert had co from.
Along the way, they ran into Damian. His face was exhausted, but thankfully, he was unhard.
Seeing the others, Damian imdiately rushed forward. "Where’s Robert?"
Alice quickly answered, "Gon took him for treatnt."
Yet Damian didn’t seem relieved. Instead, his expression darkened. "He should’ve been the one to die. I told him and Ely not to act on their own, but they didn’t listen!"
Damian recounted what had happened. Despite his warnings, Robert and Ely had ignored him and approached the leaves, preparing to cut them.
At that mont, countless tiny frogs—bright and vividly colored—suddenly leaped out from beneath the large leaves.
They were small, but their sheer numbers were overwhelming. They sward Robert and Ely in an instant, covering them like a shifting, multicolored mass.
Realizing the danger, Robert and Ely tried to flee—but Robert didn’t hesitate to grab Ely and shove her into the swarm, using the montum to propel himself out.
He desperately scraped the frogs off his body, but his flesh had already been corroded, and a maddening itch spread rapidly across his skin.
The frogs even pursued Damian and Robert, swarming like an army. Damian had struggled imnsely to escape with Robert in tow—only for Robert to try to betray him at the last second.
Thinking back on it, Damian wished Robert had died instead of being rescued.
After Damian finished his story, they finally arrived at the location of the leaves. From a distance, they could already see the horrific scene inside.
Ely’s body lay motionless on the ground—grotesquely swollen. Her face and limbs had bloated to three tis their original size. Her skin had turned a bright, unnatural red, appearing thin and fragile, like a mbrane stretched over a mass of liquid. Her lifeless eyes were wide open—frozen in agony.
Tiny, vibrant frogs clung to her body, making her look like a grotesque, multicolored balloon.
"She’s about to explode," Prophet’s slow voice suddenly rang out.
Drake reacted instantly, shouting, "Everyone falls back! Defense abilities up!"
BOOM! A deafening explosion echoed through the air almost the mont Drake finished speaking. Ely’s grotesquely bloated body—like an overfilled water balloon—finally burst.
Her thin, red skin was no longer able to contain anything. Foul-slling yellow fluid splattered everywhere, spraying up to five ters away, along with a horde of venomous frogs.
Drake’s blade expanded in size, its width now towering over him, blocking most of the toxic spray. Behind him, Damian raised both hands, summoning a barrier of holy white light that enveloped the entire group.
The yellow liquid sizzled upon hitting the ground, scorching the earth beneath it—a clear testant to how deadly it was.
Drake glanced at the toxic sludge coating his blade, his expression filled with disgust. anwhile, all that remained on the ground was a thin, transparent sheet of skin floating amidst the yellow fluid. The most horrifying part? Ely’s face was still perfectly intact on that skin.
"Urgh— urgh—" The retching sound echoed—July could no longer hold it in.
"Do we have to take these leaves?" Drake muttered, his face twisted with revulsion—from the sight and the overwhelming stench.
Prophet shot him a glance and said in a deep voice, "Yes. And as many as possible."
If Prophet had spoken so definitively, then these leaves were undoubtedly valuable. But Drake couldn’t stand how casually he gave orders while standing on the sidelines.
"Try breathing through your nose and saying that again! It’s easy to talk when you’re not the one doing the dirty work!" Drake snapped.
Prophet remained unfazed—his hands gripped his cloak, covering his nose and mouth, revealing only his cold, unreadable eyes. But his actions? Far from cold and composed.
What a strange god, Silas thought to himself.
By now, Drake and Austin had begun gathering the leaves. Fortunately, the plants grew low to the ground, making them easy to harvest. The only real challenge ca from the venomous frogs swiftly incinerated by Drake’s flas the mont they appeared.
Judging by his expression, he’d burn down the entire forest if he could.
Ultimately, they gathered enough leaves—two for each person—before finally leaving the cursed place.
July’s hands trembled slightly, her face pale. Alice gently patted her shoulder. "You okay?" she asked softly.
July pressed her lips together before shaking her head. "Just... a little scared."
Alice’s voice was firm. "It’s okay. We have Captain Silas, and we managed to summon Prophet. With him here, we’ll be able to seal this dungeon."
Drake, notably, was no longer on Alice’s list of acknowledged leaders.
July instinctively looked toward Prophet. From behind, he appeared slightly thin, but the sizeable golden eye embroidered on the back of his cloak seed to glow, exuding an unexplainable sense of security and mystery.
She nodded instinctively. "You’re right. As long as we have Prophet, we’ll be fine!"
If Silvanus had opened the system window, he’d surely hear the ding ding ding of Faith Points increasing.
[Look at July’s eyes— 1 believer for Prophet!]
[Honestly, I think it’s more like 1 spiritual rival for Drake. The way he gets mad is hilarious, hahaha.]
[His rage ability sses with him too much...]
[Alice wasn’t wrong when she said she’d do better than Drake. Look, she just converted another believer for Prophet!]
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