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There was a trace of this "Priestess" in the bathwater of the black-robed skeleton?
Ian's reflexes weren't quite fast enough to circle the globe, but he realized almost instantly who, or what, this "Priestess" in front of him really was.
Her past, black-robed skeleton… A goddess!
Ian rarely felt truly flustered when things happened, but upon realizing that he had come face-to-face with a divine being without any warning, his heart couldn't help but skip a beat.
"So this is the danger of the ancient times…"
Coming from an era where the gods no longer showed themselves, Ian had honestly never expected to encounter a scene like this. At that moment, his mind was filled with nothing but absurdity and surrealism.
Ian could only stare in shock.
The "Priestess" gently swirled the potion bottle in her hand a few times.
"So, you've skinned me and boiled my bones? Oh, how terrifying. I'm quite curious, did my flesh taste good?" She clearly recognized the finished product as a broth brewed from her own bones.
However, from her tone, which carried a hint of teasing, this mysterious goddess didn't seem angry. Her nose was straight and delicate, giving her face a sculpted elegance. Below it were soft, plump lips with a muted hue, their corners faintly upturned in what might have been a subtle smile.
Of course, even though the "Priestess" appeared relaxed, Ian didn't dare let down his guard. He had known quite a few women, or girls, and if there was anything he had learned from them, it was that women were capricious beings. A normal person would find it nearly impossible to truly read a woman's heart just from her expression or tone.
That wicked Professor Morgan was a prime example.
And the older a woman was, the harder her heart was to discern.
Let alone a goddess whose age no doubt eclipsed Professor Morgan's by countless years.
"No, no, no, I'm not some evil person. I haven't eaten your flesh. I think… I think I can explain what's going on here," Ian quickly retreated several steps, pressing his back against the wall.
"It all started with why I came here…"
Ian began choosing his words carefully, preparing to use his storytelling talents, omitting the part about boiling bones for soup, omitting how he used to chase the "black-robed skeleton" to knock on its skull, focusing only on their pleasant interactions.
However, He had barely gotten the words out.
In the blink of an eye, the "Priestess," who had been standing more than twenty paces away, suddenly "teleported" again and was now right in front of him, just like before.
"The first rule of time travel… Little one, no spoilers."
The close-up "Priestess" raised a slender finger and gently pressed it to Ian's lips in a gesture for silence. Her face still bore a gentle smile, and when she spoke softly, her voice was like a musical composition, as if it could soothe all the noise and chaos of the world.
"Uh…"
Ian's eyes were only a palm's width away from hers.
He could see clearly, this goddess's eyes shimmered with constantly shifting hues, like two ancient and mysterious wells, so deep they seemed capable of perceiving the essence of all things and the secrets of the soul.
Ian, never having encountered a divine being before, knew nothing about them.
Perhaps his fears weren't necessary. It was possible that not only was the goddess already fully aware of his origins, but what Ian thought was a "misunderstanding" might not even exist in her eyes.
Time could block mortals.
But not necessarily gods.
Ian didn't know whether this goddess knew her own fate, but he noticed that at some point, the contract on his wand hand, the one that bound him to the black-robed skeleton, had appeared. And that alone likely revealed far more information than he would've wanted to a being such as her.
Even so, Ian couldn't tell how much she actually knew from her expression.
The only small relief he felt was this: the appearance of the contract likely meant she wasn't going to attack him.
The same contract that bound the black-robed skeleton also restricts the goddess now standing before him.
"Could you go fetch me a basin of warm water?" Ian asked tentatively in a low voice.
"???????"
The goddess, who had taken on the appearance of the priestess, immediately went from calm and elegant to stunned and incredulous, as if she could hardly believe Ian in front of her had the audacity to make such a request.
Her expression showed clear reluctance, but after a moment of hesitation, she bit her lip, turned in silence, and briskly walked out of the underground chamber, heading toward the staircase.
She was clearly going to obey Ian's command and fetch the water.
"With your love, you gave me flesh and blood. I will serve you for ten thousand years."
That was the content of the contract the black-robed skeleton had once revealed to Ian.
And now, as someone who had once been that skeleton, this goddess could not defy it.
Of course, Ian understood the importance of giving people a way out, so he loudly explained why he needed the hot water, mainly for the sake of the still-present Priest Ryan.
"It's to cast a spell to examine the origin of the curse on Patient Zero. Of course, if the goddess is willing to tell us the truth, we could skip all this trouble."
Though Ian seemed to be addressing the prostrate Priest Ryan, he deliberately raised his voice, ensuring the "Priestess" walking away could hear him loud and clear.
But his little ploy didn't work.
The mysterious goddess clearly heard his implication, but instead of responding, she sped up her pace, going up the stairs.
Her retreating figure radiated the unmistakable air of someone silently fuming.
"Maybe I could ask her to shed her own flesh, bring it back to the future, and attach it to the skeleton. That would perfectly solve the problem of restoring flesh to the skeletal remains."
"It's her own flesh, after all. It can't possibly be rejected, right?" Ian stared at the back of the "Priestess," genuinely feeling like he might be a genius.
Feeling somewhat satisfied with his own cleverness, Ian lowered his head to look at Priest Ryan, who had yet to respond.
Not only had he said nothing, but he looked completely out of it.
"Why are you trembling?"
Ian tried to help the priest up, but the moment he touched Ryan's arm, the man shuddered violently, as if electrocuted, his entire body went rigid like he'd been hit by a high-voltage current.
"Please forgive my earlier offense, O infinitely great Majesty…" Ryan's voice trembled. He refused to get up, pressing his face flat against the ground.
Perhaps only this High Priest of the temple could truly understand the tsunami of emotion crashing through his heart, shock, fear, and disbelief.
Just because he had remained silent didn't mean he hadn't heard Ian's conversation with the goddess.
From the moment he realized the goddess had descended, Ryan knew something was terribly wrong. Recalling how the Dream-Watching Queen addressed Ian, he now understood just how disastrously mistaken his initial assumptions had been.
Cassandra might not have been confused or cognitively impaired at all.
In fact, Cassandra might have been the only one who saw the truth clearly from the start.
This child-like figure before him… Was actually the physical avatar of the god worshiped by the Temple of Dreams!
The one spoken of in countless myths and legends,
The Embodiment of Ominous Fate.
The Sovereign of the Land of the Dead.
That terrifying figure always accompanying disaster in myth.
The Ender of All Things.
…
(To Be Continued…)