Lucky Coin

"Prophecy?!"

The voice from above the steps was filled with shock. It was the first emotion Herpo the Foul had shown besides coldness and arrogance.

"That's right."

Tom lifted his leg and stepped onto the stairs. The instant his left foot landed on the first step, countless snakes surged out of the grass on either side, densely filling the staircase until there was nowhere to set a foot, a sight that made the scalp crawl. "I am a prophet."

["Keep walking," Nelson's voice rang in Tom's ear. "This is one of Herpo the Foul's usual tricks. Those Dementors ended up that way because they hesitated here."]

Tom smiled and brought his foot down heavily on the step. The venomous serpent by his foot suddenly sprang up, opening its reeking jaws to bite at his ankle, but Tom acted as if he had seen nothing. He let the serpent bite his ankle. Its sharp fangs slid past Tom's skin, and the serpent burrowed into the grass on the other side. If his step had trembled even slightly just now, the venom would already have spread through his blood vessels and into his entire body.

["Good," Nelson said, sitting opposite Pythia, speaking one word at a time under her worried gaze. "If you had already backed down in Sicily, then the fate waiting for you would have been to become a puppet bound inside the shell of an Inferi. That is also how Herpo the Foul 'recruits' for his vast army. He never cares about surface-level awe and loyalty, because when you truly meet him, you will definitely offer him awe and loyalty. What he needs is loyalty born from the soul's fear and recognition."]

Tom strode forward, climbing the steps and rapidly approaching the terrifying temple at the summit.

"Boom!"

A