There was no surprise or outburst as I had expected; it was as if he had known all along that I was not the Whispering God.
Indeed, my thinking might have been right.
"Are you my older cousin?"
I asked him a question tentatively, but he didn't answer.
However, his expression was tragic, as if his old injury had relapsed. He spat out a mouthful of blood and then lost consciousness.
I wanted to take this opportunity to escape and leave, but looking at that face, I just couldn't bring myself to do it. After a fierce internal struggle, my conscience finally gave way to my fear.
They carried him into the bamboo hut, treated his wounds, gave him some water, and then, almost as if possessed, changed his blood-stained clothes.
I stayed with him in the bamboo house for two whole days and two nights, but he showed no signs of waking up.
He seemed to be trapped in some kind of nightmare, and no matter how much they called him, they couldn't wake him up.
The clouds in the sky changed unpredictably with his emotions, sometimes clear skies and beautiful landscapes, sometimes dark clouds and towering buildings, making it feel like the world was about to collapse at any moment.
Now, what is there that I don't understand? This is clearly an illusion created by humans, and that person is very likely the "respected god" before me.
If he remains unconscious like this, the illusion will collapse sooner or later, and then I'm afraid I'll be buried here.
Sure enough, on the third day, the world began to collapse. Seeing that the bamboo house was about to be submerged by the flood, I could no longer sit idly by and wait for death.
They carried the "respected god" and ran, but it was obviously no use. Everywhere was the same; there was nowhere to land. Many cracks appeared in the air, making it impossible to fly. In the end, they had no choice but to give up flying.
Previously, I could still rely on the power of the True God to barely stay afloat on the water, but everything here was created by the master of the illusion. How could the power of the True God compare to this world-destroying flood? I couldn't hold on for long.
Poor me, a little bird that flies in the sky, how could I possibly float on water? I could only watch helplessly as the flood swallowed me up.
At the last moment, I felt something pull me from behind, and then I lost consciousness.
When I woke up again, I was in a dark and secluded mountain cave.
There were four girls dressed in strange clothes beside me. When they saw me wake up, they put their hands together and muttered something, as if they were performing some kind of ritual or sending a message to someone.
I couldn't understand a word they were saying. I vaguely remembered my second brother saying a few words, but I never asked him what kind of gibberish it was.
Although I don't know why, I had a terrible headache and a few tears inexplicably welled up in my eyes, I was still very grateful when I thought about how I almost died again.
He wanted to get out of bed and walk around, but was stopped by a maid in green.
"Young Master, no, come down and eat."
Seeing this, another maid brought me a bowl of water from somewhere, cut her palm, dripped a few drops of blood, and handed it to me. Although I am of pure demon blood, the practice of drinking human blood to heal wounds was abandoned by my grandfather, Tonghua Saint Lord, tens of thousands of years ago. Therefore, although I had heard of this technique, I had never seen it, much less witnessed it in person.
My father often taught us that the world is a dangerous place, and we should never touch anything given to us by strangers when we are out and about. So I refused it firmly.
But the girl was unusually persistent and insisted that I drink it, which annoyed me greatly. Just as I was at a loss, I heard a series of hurried footsteps outside the cave.
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