Perhaps the poor-quality food was simply too hard to swallow, or perhaps he wanted to distract himself from thinking too closely about what exactly he had swallowed.
Kane turned around and lowered his voice as he asked Anvil, who was still silently gnawing on Black Bread, "Was there any other news in that Divine Grace? Prophecies, perhaps, or instructions?"
He paused, his voice heavy with the pressure of reality. "Anvil, you know it. We've been imprisoned here for years. We can barely fill our stomachs, and the skills we once possessed have long grown rusty. Passing the trial won't be so simple."
Anvil fell silent for a moment, his rough fingers unconsciously tightening around the hard bread.
He struggled inwardly, hesitating over whether to reveal the full truth—that the one behind it all was Slime rather than Morgul.
But in the end, he abandoned the thought.
There was no other reason: the truth of the "Slime Kingdom" was simply too absurd and bizarre. Even he himself would have found it hard to believe without experiencing it firsthand.
Compared to that, "Divine Grace," though vague and intangible, was more likely to give these people struggling in despair something to cling to.
He raised his eyes and tried to make his tone sound confident as he buzzed, "Don't worry, Kane. The gods have already revealed the path. We only need to prepare ourselves and face the demon tide three days from now. As for the rest... leave it to me."
In truth, he did not have much confidence either. He was even faintly worried that those Slimes might never return, or that they might be crushed into paste beneath the feet of some terrifying Demonic Beast on their way here.
Kane looked at the evasiveness in his old friend's eyes. He knew