A short while later, Mr. Allen was helped out by two people. His face was pale and there were beads of sweat on his forehead. He must have been exhausted from using his divine power.
The town mayor followed behind, his small face full of gratitude. "Thank you, sir. May the god of fortune protect you!"
The man who had previously informed them of the news still smirked, "If it weren't for them, so many people wouldn't have died in our town!"
"Shut up," the mayor snapped.
The man glared at them resentfully, then turned and left.
"Please don't mind, everyone." The mayor glanced at the sky. "It's already dark, you should get some rest."
Phil Gray returned to the room the mayor had prepared for him, closed his eyes, and pondered the events of the day.
...
He fell into a deep sleep until he felt his body bouncing up and down.
He opened his eyes, feeling a splitting headache and heavy eyelids, as if he was about to fall asleep at any moment.
"You're actually awake? That's unexpected." A hoarse voice came from beside my ear.
He instantly regained his senses and realized that he was being carried on someone's shoulder.
It was late at night, and the man carrying him was holding a lantern and hurrying along. He realized that they had already left the town.
Who are you? What do you want?
"Haha, who am I? Guess?"
The man's voice was hoarse, but his body was strong and powerful; carrying him, an adult, did not affect his speed at all.
Phil Gray was silent for a moment, then asked, "Where are you taking me?"
“You should feel honored. I was the first to find the core location of this space, or possibly the core location of the ruins, yet I’m willing to share it with you,” the man laughed.
“You think I know ancient scripts and want me to translate them for you?” Phil Gray said calmly.
The man neither agreed nor disagreed and continued on his way.
Phil Gray didn't know how long he had been gone. His head was spinning and his eyelids were getting heavier and heavier, making him realize that the man might have given him some sleeping pills, and the effects of the drugs hadn't worn off yet.
He could only sense that the person was going around in circles, walking back and forth somewhere, seemingly climbing, but he was very steady and didn't let the person being carried fall off.
He finally stopped and put Phil Gray on the ground.
Phil Gray opened his eyes, and what he saw surprised him.
It turns out that the core of the space they were looking for was on the mountain, because there was a cave there that looked exactly like the outside world.
The cave's outer layer was likely covered by a layer of divine power, forming a shallow barrier. This person just broke through it, revealing the cave. Unless one is favored by the gods, it is impossible to see through this barrier. No wonder the townspeople have never mentioned it.
"Hahaha, this is the mountain to the south. Do you know how I found my way here?" The man laughed, and before Phil Gray could answer, he continued talking to himself.
"The people in the town have all been affected by divine power, which is why they are experiencing reverse aging. The divine power that overflows after they die will return to the so-called core, which is why this space has been able to exist for thousands of years. And the direction that this divine power is heading is this place!"
His tone was full of pride and fervor, “Look at this, what wonderful divine power it is! It gathers in bit by bit, and when the townspeople give birth to new life, it enters the new life’s body, and so on, in an endless cycle!”
So that's how it is; Phil Gray's doubts were mostly resolved.
He circulated the divine power within his body and indeed sensed it in the air; it was flying towards the cave in an endless stream.
The man continued, "Look, the divine power has entered and is guiding us, hahaha!"
"So you caused those townspeople to get sick, and then you did it yourself, and now they're still dying!" Phil Gray said angrily.
“Yes, the divine power flew so fast, it disappeared almost instantly. If my eyesight hadn’t been good this afternoon, I wouldn’t have been able to see where they were. But now there’s no need to worry, they…” The man’s words stopped abruptly, “What happened? How did they disappear?”
Phil Gray couldn't see his face clearly; the man's entire body was covered by a black cloak, and his face was also covered by a black cloth. He seemed quite surprised.
"Never mind, we've arrived anyway." He pushed Phil Gray into the cave.
This cave was no different from the caves they had visited before, still filled with rock sculptures and murals.
However, there is only one mural here, which is a picture of a person's life, from birth to death, but the newborn is an old man, and the dead is an infant.
“Nothing special,” the man muttered to himself, then pointed to the words below the mural. “What does it say? Don’t try to fool me; I can take your life at any moment!”
Phil Gray gave him a cold look, then looked up at the words and slowly read them aloud.
Greed can destroy a person and turn a devout believer into a despicable traitor.
Duke Pope, while Ansel was drunk, stole the scales of fate, attempting to alter the destinies of his friends and family. However, every gift of fate comes at a price, and shameful betrayal ultimately leads to disaster. The great god of time and space, the creator of the endless void, and the eternal one of the future and the past, punishes Ansel and his clan and associates as punishment: their fates are reversed, they have no more allies, and they are forever imprisoned here.
The executor is Matt Pullman.
"Hahaha, hypocritical God of Fate, laughable God of Time and Space, you imprisoned this race here for a thousand years merely for theft." He sneered, "Only the great God of Plague would not be so hypocritical!"
He stopped paying attention to the texts and murals, his gaze sweeping across the rest of the cave, finally settling on the enormous statue of the god of fate.
The statue's left hand is raised high, and what it drags is none other than the scales of fate, which are emitting a faint white light!
"A sacred relic!"
He burst into laughter, a bottle appeared in his hand, from which he poured out green powder and threw it at Phil Gray. "You're no longer of any use!"
Phil Gray collapsed to the ground, bleeding from all seven orifices, and instantly died.
"Hahaha!"
He walked step by step toward the statue, and his agile movements allowed him to quickly climb onto it and take down the scales of fate.
The scales continued to emit a white light, and his gaze was fixed on them, until he felt a pain in his wrist.
The scene before him became clearer. He realized he wasn't holding any scales of fate, but a stone, and his aching wrist was being gripped tightly by someone—not Phil Gray, but Patrick.
He looked at the statue in disbelief; the scales of fate still hung high on them.
How could this be? How could this happen?
Phil Gray smiled at him, his right hand, gloved in white, holding his poison bottle.
"You wouldn't believe it, Mr. Dwyer."
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