Now that even Lapuye had spoken up, those who had questioned Dodolo said nothing more.
They would first hear what Dodolo had to say. Even if it truly amounted to nothing, so be it—they could follow Ivan's suggestion and ban Dodolo from Stargazing Day forever. For a prophecy wizard, that was an utterly terrifying punishment.
In any case, it had nothing to do with their own interests. At worst, they could treat it as watching a joke unfold.
Everyone calmed down. They appeared to be waiting for Dodolo to speak, yet few truly believed he could offer a prophecy worth hearing.
Dodolo, under everyone's gaze, fell silent instead.
No one understood why Dodolo had suddenly stopped speaking, but no one questioned him either. Since they had given Dodolo a chance, there was no need to turn around and strike back. Even Ivan, who was rather dissatisfied with Dodolo, showed no impatience.
No one urged Dodolo on, but as time trickled by, the invisible pressure in the silent hall grew increasingly heavy. Even those outside the eye of the storm could feel that oppressive, formless force.
Even the bystanders felt their hearts tremble, yet Dodolo, standing at the mouth of the hurricane, remained as calm as ever. Only the movement of his pupils revealed that he seemed to be contemplating something.
Just as the intangible oppression reached its peak, Dodolo, who had been silent for a long time, finally spoke.
"A theater occupied by phantoms will soon drift ashore from the long river of illusion. Its first ticket booth will appear in the Land of Eternal Night."
After saying this, Dodolo fell quiet. Clearly, this was the fragment of prophecy he had mentioned.
Perhaps because the atmosphere had been building for several minutes before Dodolo spoke, everyone was in an intensely