Silvanus didn’t know what kind of looks Silas and Drake were giving him, but he was sure of one thing—he had acted intentionally. If Silas hadn’t stepped in at just the right mont, he would have killed Robert.
Based on his current information, those implanted with frog skin might escape the relentless itching and avoid imdiate death. Still, they were dood to transform into monsters on the day of the sacrifice. When that ti ca, Robert would be sothing they had to kill anyway—there was no way to reverse it.
If that were the case, it wouldn’t matter if he died now. It would an one less monster to deal with in the final battle.
Moreover, Silvanus had no intention of allowing the Prophet to beco a god that anyone could approach and speak to without reverence. There had to be a deterrent. After all, the Prophet could not be perceived as a weak deity. This was rely an effect—to make the Prophet’s power appear all the more striking and awe-inspiring.
At this mont, everyone had gathered in the room. A eting was about to take place.
July glanced at Robert, standing blankly to the side, and asked with so concern, "Will he be okay?"
Alice looked at her and replied softly, "Normally, the captain’s orders wear off after an hour."
But then, the Prophet suddenly spoke.
"Kill him. He’s going to die sooner or later anyway."
His words stunned everyone. Alice looked at him and asked honestly, "Sir, is there sothing wrong with Robert?"
"As long as that skin remains on him, he won’t survive this dungeon."
Robert’s pupils trembled slightly. Though he remained obediently in place, he seed to hear what the Prophet said.
Drake, hearing this, appeared to have an epiphany. "Oh, so that’s why you tried to kill him earlier?"
The Prophet didn’t reply—he only stared at Drake as if challenging him to figure it out himself.
Drake shrugged and said nothing more.
Was the Prophet simply eager to kill Robert, or was it genuinely inevitable that he wouldn’t make it past the sacrificial day? They would only find out when that day arrived.
Silas spoke up. "What Gon said wasn’t entirely false. At the very least, Gon is not an ordinary human. There will still be danger during the sacrifice, but understanding the ritual could give us an advantage."
However, their current problem was that they had no records of the village’s sacrificial ceremony.
"That’s simple. That thick book in Gon’s house has the answers. We break in—tonight!" Drake declared loudly as if he wanted the monsters outside to hear him.
"Danger often cos with information..." Silas murmured, then said, "We’re breaking into Gon’s house tonight."
The action team was quickly decided: Silas, Drake, Austin, and the Prophet.
"Wait, why are you coming along? I’m not going to protect you!" Drake raised his voice at the Prophet.
Alice imdiately frowned. "The Prophet doesn’t need your protection. You have no idea how powerful he is! Being allowed to protect him is an honor!"
She wished she could take Drake’s place, swearing she would never let a single wound appear on the Prophet.
Drake shot Alice a cold, dangerous look. Alice had always disliked and feared Drake, but whenever it ca to matters concerning the Prophet, she always seed to gain an odd kind of courage.
In the end, Drake suddenly shrugged and sneered. "At the end of the day, I’m still the Prophet’s chosen top believer, ha."
Alice: "..."
It was like an arrow had pierced her heart. She clutched her chest in silent agony and looked pitifully at the Prophet, but the cold god paid no attention to her fleeting pain.
The ti from noon to evening passed quickly. Before long, the sky had darkened, shrouded by thick, ominous clouds. No thunder sounded—only the heavy downpour of rain began to fall.
The heavy raindrops pounded against the ground, not flowing naturally but clinging with a strange stickiness.
The Prophet looked out the window, then back at the humans.
At this mont, they had worked together to transform large leaves into cloaks. Fortunately, the leaves were incredibly flexible, almost impossible to tear apart.
"I never would’ve guessed that the most skillful one among us was Austin," July remarked in amazent.
Austin, who was adjusting a cloak, heard this and smiled embarrassedly. He lowered his head, his face slightly flushed, though his tanned skin made it hard to notice.
Robert sat curled up to the side, clutching his head, his pupils trembling—still haunted and shaken by the Prophet’s words from earlier that afternoon. However, no one felt sorry for him.
A dark esper at the end of his life—who would pity him?
Outside, the rain poured relentlessly as a few figures swiftly rged into the downpour. The Prophet held an umbrella and spoke softly, "Be careful not to step on the frog eggs."
Easier said than done. The darkness and torrential rain had turned the ground into a muddy ss, and the tiny frog eggs blended in with the soil, making them nearly impossible to avoid. They were everywhere, densely packed.
No sooner had Silvanus finished speaking than a bright red system notification appeared before him:
[Damage to Prophet’s Card 3]
At this rate, the damage to the card was nearing 60%.
Silvanus was speechless. He would have to take things as they ca.
The group quickly made their way to Gon’s house. At night, the house was tightly shut with not a single gap. Not a single ho had its lights on, making the village darker and quieter than ever, with only the sound of rain filling the air.
"Ribbit."
Just then, a faint sound reached Drake’s ears.
A frog’s call.
"It’s coming from inside the house," Silas said slowly.
Perhaps they hadn’t heard any frogs earlier, not because there weren’t in the jungle, but because all the "frogs" were inside.
The danger was already in the air.
Silvanus checked God’s Realm—the massive frog tongues he had absorbed earlier in the morning were now more than halfway processed. God’s Realm absorbed body parts faster than whole creatures. That was only natural.
At night, Gon’s house appeared even more eerie and unsettling. As soon as they climbed over the wall, two bright red eyes glowing in the darkness startled them.
It turned out to be the eyes of two frog statues before Gon’s house. Yet, in the morning, their eyes had been closed.
Drake smirked. "This thing might be like a surveillance cara. Who knows, maybe Gon already knows we’re here, ha."
And, as if summoned by his words, the entire house trembled slightly. Heavy thudding noises rumbled through the air like sothing massive had begun to move.
"Hurry," Silas ordered, imdiately leading the way to the room where Gon had taken out that thick book about the village’s history earlier.
They had to be fast. Whatever that massive thing was, it wouldn’t give them much ti.
Everything beca frantic and urgent. However, the darkness wasn’t just ordinary nightti anymore—it was thickening, spreading through the space like sothing tangible, even obstructing the vision of espers.
"Damn it! At this rate, even if we grab the book, we won’t know which one it is!"
There were too many books here. Finding the right one would be nearly impossible if they couldn’t see.
Drake repeatedly tried to ignite his fla, but no matter how brightly it burned, he could see nothing beyond it—just fire in the void. Even though he could hear the footsteps and breaths of the others nearby, they remained invisible.
anwhile, the heavy footsteps outside were getting closer.
"Whoosh!"
Suddenly, a burst of fire erupted, and a warm golden-orange glow spread, enveloping them all.
Turning toward the source, they saw the Prophet standing at the center of the light, a flickering fla burning steadily in his palm.
A fire that illuminated the darkness.
Creation—the power to summon a light-bearing fla!
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