So, who exactly is this person? How did they know about me and my location? And are they friend or foe?
The naive Sheng clearly hadn't noticed these subtle changes, nor had he given them much thought. He simply led the way while casually answering my question: "The person who came was a prophet from the Prophecy Tower. I originally thought he would only appear by chance during a mission much later on, but I didn't expect to meet him so early! This is too smooth and too lucky!"
"If we keep pushing forward at this rate, maybe our idea of successfully conquering this damn game will actually come true!"
I didn't raise any objections; I just gave a soft "hmm" as a response.
Soon, following Sheng's directions, I found myself in the café where the survivors had emptied the storage, and there I saw the person wearing a gray robe, calmly sipping water.
The sword demon, who had somehow regained consciousness, was now sitting opposite the guy with a frustrated expression. His hands were on the table, his brows were tightly furrowed, and his muscles were taut, all indicating that the conversation between the two had not yielded a pleasant result.
Seemingly noticing our arrival, the sword demon frowned even more, then snorted, grabbed the straight sword on the table, turned and walked past us.
Looking back at the departing figure of the sword demon, Sheng tilted his head in confusion: "Did anything happen between you two while I was away?"
There's nothing there.
The crisp sound of the cup bottom striking the disk rang out. The prophet, who claimed to be from the Tower of Prophecy, placed his hands relaxed on the table, his fingers interlaced: "I am simply relaying what will happen to that man."
Sheng immediately looked a little nervous: "Is it something very bad?"
“No, my dear child, you have nothing to worry about.” A soft laugh came from under the gray cloak. “Although some bad things may happen along the way, in the long run, your final destination will surely be filled with flowers and joy.”
"...I think I understand why that guy had that expression just now."
When Sheng stealthily tiptoed closer to whisper in my ear, I raised an eyebrow slightly.
Sheng continued, "Without a doubt, I've heard the same words more than three hundred times in the game—at least every time I find the prophet, he adds this sentence at the end."
Okay, I can barely understand that.
Anyone playing a grueling RPG where you can't fast-forward or skip the plot would go crazy hearing this cliché more than ten times. Not to mention that the Sword Demon's experiences far exceed a dozen, and his ambitions contradict the future foretold by the prophet.
The fact that the guy didn't flip the table and start chopping people up in front of us is a testament to his good temper.
But is this guy really a prophet? And why would he come knocking at this time?
Regarding prophets, that is, mages who specialize in the school of prophecy, all I know is the knowledge taught in the academy and the existence of a prophecy tower on Yong'an Island where prophets gather.
Those guys were all strange individuals. Because, personally, their gaze was never on the present, but rather focused on the distant, almost unfathomable horizon.
However, if it were true, I would certainly not be able to ignore the words of a genuine prophetic mage.
Because it was the guidance of fate, even though mages who specialized in astrology and astronomy had never gotten along well with these guys, they would never choose to disregard their words.
Before I could even ask anything, the man in the gray robe spoke up on his own: "You seem to doubt my identity, um... here I should be called Mr. [Uriel], I'm not mistaken, am I? Do you need me to prove myself now? For example, list some things that only you and the people around you know?"
He spread his hands, appearing very cooperative.
I stared at my right hand, which had only a few fine calluses on the first joint of my middle finger and near the pad and base of my index finger. After a few seconds of silence, I shook my head: "No, you have already shown me your abilities. I believe what you say."
What this guy just implied was clearly not something that happened here, because I clearly felt a faint magical energy flowing from his palm, drawing a faint pattern in mid-air, and then returning to his body.
That was the outline of a cat.
Even though he had acquired the profession of Spirit Master, Sheng, who had not yet fully mastered the use of perception, still did not have the same sensitive and precise control over magic as we did. He seemed to vaguely realize that we had had a cryptic conversation, but he couldn't decipher its meaning. He could only turn his head from side to side repeatedly, looking at us blankly.
"No, anyway, please sit down first."
He quickly extricated himself from the predicament, but after pulling out a chair and sitting down, he suddenly jumped up, saying he was going to get some tea leaves to make tea, and then darted away from sight like a rabbit.
I felt a little awkward: "How about we wait until Sheng comes back..."
“It’s alright, I originally wanted to talk to you alone.” The prophet—since I don’t know his name, I’ll call him that for now—said calmly, “The main purpose of my visit is to see you and, incidentally, inform you of some things.”
I nodded, still puzzled: "But I don't know what I possess that could alarm a prophetic mage..."
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