Chapter 129 Misunderstanding

Deep in the night, deep in the narrow streets of Baita Town, the snow was compacted by the people passing by, making a crunching sound underfoot. Tiny snowflakes drifted from the sky, casting a false layer of white on the ground.

The occasional passers-by wrapped their outer clothes tightly, unwilling to even waste the energy to curse the cold, for fear that a little warmth would escape from the white air exhaled from their mouths.

Almost no one noticed that a figure in a hooded cloak was passing by passers-by - the other person had an upright posture, walked easily and slowly, and did not leave any trace on the street covered with a layer of floating snow.

The figure suddenly stopped in the depths of an empty street and turned his head slightly. In the eyes of the visitor, even if he only revealed a small section of his elegantly curved jaw, it refracted the snow light and showed an irresistible brilliance.

The majesty of beauty transcends the visual sense. There are always some people who, even if they cover their faces and abandon any embellishment, revealing only a finger or a strand of hair, can still make people hold their breath in awe.

A person appeared in front of him.

"The fickle master of fate, the god of the ever-lasting hurricane, the respected storm god Utoska..."

He knelt respectfully, his head bowed, concealing the almost frenzied excitement in his eyes. He clasped his hands together, reverently touching his forehead with his fingers: "We ants salute you."

He spoke the language of the Natalin people, which was lost over three hundred years ago.

“…”

The god-like being remained silent. The only sounds between heaven and earth were the patter of falling snowflakes and the harsh, rapid breathing of a single individual. As the silence stretched, the newcomer stared at the hem of the god's robe, constantly questioning what had angered him with every action—had he been insufficiently pious, failing to offer a precious sacrifice, or had he arrived too late, causing the god to question his loyalty and his own humility?

After a long time, the god finally spoke, his voice was gentle and indifferent, as if it came from a distant snow-capped mountain.

"You have Natalin blood."

He also used the ancient Natalin language.

"Yes, my father is from Natalin." The believer began to grow visibly nervous, fearing the gods would blame him for his impure bloodline. "But my mother's family has long since submitted to you and are your loyal followers."

"Loyalty," the god repeated softly. "Do you mean like a rat hiding in a gutter, stalking and spying on my whereabouts?"

A terrifying pressure like a mountain suddenly appeared on the man's back. He groaned, a trace of blood oozing from the corner of his mouth. The wrath of a god was far beyond the ability of a mere mortal to endure, yet someone as weak as him was still alive. Did this mean that this deity, whose tyranny and unpredictability were recorded in divine history, had no immediate intention of killing him?

He thought of the horrible and miserable corpses of his companions, and his fingers trembled slightly with excitement.

"My God, please allow your humble and incompetent believer to explain this matter briefly." The believer prostrated himself on the ground respectfully. "Those arrogant pagans have indeed offended you, and you have brought down divine punishment. I dare not say anything irresponsible about this. But I am forced to associate with those pagans, and there are indeed many reasons that are beyond my control..."

Azuka narrowed his eyes slightly.

This person is indeed a believer of the God of Storms, but the God of Storms is already dead, making it difficult for him to pray to Utoska in exchange for the power of his ideas - this also makes his weakness particularly conspicuous among this group of powerful outsiders.

These guys were clever, having deliberately found a genuine believer to try to please the "god." If he were truly the Storm God Utosca, having discovered that the four main gods had divided the world's faith, he would have found a devout believer, one who was also of the same bloodline—even if he wouldn't have treated him kindly, he wouldn't have killed him.

He listened to the chatter with an expressionless face, including how the "Sacrificial Sect" discovered the secret of Utoska's resurrection and how they followed the footsteps of the gods to the White Tower Town - the photo stone in his arms was always running silently. He couldn't help but be distracted. The professor was probably still awake at this time, but he had been very well behaved recently. The frequency of his secret coffee drinking has dropped sharply. Maybe he could bring him some cakes back.

The professor doesn't like sweets, and he always comments on most expensive desserts on the market as "too sweet" with a look of disgust on his face.

But according to the other party, "the brain needs to consume a lot of glycogen to think", and without him watching over him, he would always forget to eat. The dreaded big devil of Baita University actually has candies in his pocket all year round.

Only one shop seemed to suit the professor's taste, and the believer before him had already begun a lengthy, incoherent speech praising the God. He was a decoy, a man who knew very little. If he continued wasting time, the shop would close. The savior finally interrupted him rudely: "Enough."

The believer immediately shut his mouth meekly, without objection to the god's brutality - perhaps in his opinion, God should be so arrogant.

"I bless you."

He extended a hand indifferently - the believer was trembling with excitement, especially after seeing a halo of light fall into his body.

The god didn't seem to explain the purpose of this blessing. Seeing that the other party was about to turn and leave, the believer, remembering the instructions of those people, made up his mind: "My God, may I ask if the mortal named Nova beside you is your chosen divine servant?"

Divine servants refer to young boys and girls of noble status who were specially dedicated to the gods by believers who prayed for their protection during the century when the gods were most active.

Benevolent gods would select their favorite servants, bless them, and order them to fight for them, while tyrannical gods would simply abuse and slaughter these servants for their own amusement.

The Storm God paused.

The next second, an utterly chilling murderous intent engulfed everything around him. A raging snowstorm enveloped the figure, making him feel as if he had emerged from a freezing nightmare. The believer's eyes widened in horror. The terrifying murderous intent seemed to materialize, gripping his throat tightly, preventing him from even uttering a plea for mercy.

He thought he would die here - but the next second, the god disappeared without leaving a single word. Only the wind and snow that turned the surrounding stones into dust witnessed the god's rage.

…

"He's angry." A red-robed man wearing a white mask of death repeated in a low voice.

"It seems that although the God of Storms has been resurrected, he is still bound by the existence of 'Nova'." Another person said.

Otherwise, why would a high and mighty god follow a lowly ordinary person and even serve as his "assistant"? Gods would never submit to being inferior to humans. The only reason they would do so is because they have no other choice.

"What is the 'blessing' he left for the people of Natalin?"

"It's a very ancient and complex puppetry technique that no one can decipher, not even a sorcerer of Lord Prayer's caliber. Perhaps this is a warning against our attempts to manipulate the townspeople to spy on the gods."

"...He has already killed at least two of our warlocks, including one of them."

"Don't forget, that's a god."

——A god that cannot be looked at directly, cannot be offended, and cannot be measured.

…

"What happened to you?" At Baita University, the professor held a spoon of small cake in his mouth and slowly frowned at people - so much so that even if he brought back a midnight snack, he would still feel cold all over.

"An outsider with Natalin's blood, who claims to be a follower of the Storm God Utoska, has participated in the activities of the Sacrifice Sect." The other party gently placed the photo stone on the table.

Nova quickly figured it all out: "This shouldn't cause you such a huge emotional upheaval."

He pointed this out seriously - the male protagonist does value his people, but they do not distinguish each other solely by blood.

The Savior gazed at him deeply: "Then they suspected that you were my divine servant."

- Although some of the interpretation is intended to mislead people, could it be that the young man who is lazily licking the cream in front of me, with an expression of unconscious satisfaction on his face, was regarded as a sacrifice to pray for the arrival of God in his previous life, almost equivalent to a slave?

He had also been branded with the divine mark. When this familiar humiliation happened to another person, it gave him the urge to destroy everything.

The professor frowned and looked at his companion carefully with an inquiring look.

...He still didn't understand why the other person was angry, but his intuition told him that if he continued asking, this guy would probably go crazy, so he simply took something out of his pocket.

Azuka was slightly startled. A small piece of cold and soft solid object wrapped in oil paper was suddenly stuffed into his palm.

"I wasn't paying attention today, but Adrian ate all my cookies. I found these when I was looking through the inventory." His nemesis said with the serious air of a scholar. "Of all the candies I've ever bought, this is the best. The combination of sweet and sour is just right, with a refreshing scent of lemon leaves. It's a shame they've been discontinued. I thought they were all gone, but I found two more."

He looked very serious. “I’ve already eaten one piece. I’m leaving this one for you. I won’t give it to anyone else.”

Azuka: “…”

The black-haired young man blinked expressionlessly.

He was hugged again, and he even had a small spoon for the cake in his hand.

Logically speaking, this guy shouldn't be moved to tears over a piece of candy - but the hug was very tight, and the warm breath hit his neck, itching it so much that he inexplicably shivered.

The professor frowned and warned, "The cream is going to get on your clothes."

The other party remained silent, as if trying to swallow him whole with the cage formed by his arms and chest. After reluctantly allowing his companion, who was clearly in a bad mood, to hold him for a while, Nova finally couldn't bear it anymore and tried to break free from the other party - he was completely unable to move, and the other party even started to tighten his hands around his waist.

He sternly warned, "Let go! Just hug me and satisfy your physical hunger. Don't push me any further."

The Savior turned a deaf ear to him, even lowering his head and biting his neck gently: "Did you do this on purpose?"

He mumbled vaguely, interspersed with trembling sighs filled with inexplicable pain: "You really... are going too far."

The professor was so kind as to share his favorite snack with others, but was accused for no reason. He was stunned for a moment and then became furious.

"If you don't want it, give it back to me!" He struggled angrily and cursed: "You are a sticky, ungrateful bastard with no sense of boundaries—"