Seconds?

Tog stammered, "May my Lord... eat everything with relish."

An invisible supernatural aura affected his thoughts, making him completely forget the prayer. He could only brace himself and express its meaning by instinct.

However, the moment he said those words, he realized something was wrong—or rather, he broke free from the state of "Twisted Language."

"Who is it?"

He only had time to shout angrily before he saw the bright-red bloody palmprint on the ground begin to move.

It seemed that an invisible hand had unconsciously passed over the bloodstain, leaving one vivid palmprint after another on the ground.

The palmprints advanced toward Tog, steady and mechanical.

In Tog's eyes, those palmprints were undoubtedly tolling the bell of his death.

Aaron struggled to hold back his laughter as he watched Tog panic. Although he had no idea what Tog was trying to recite, since Tog wanted to do it, Aaron would firmly oppose it.

In his panic, the gradually approaching death forced Tog to calm down. With a desperate, tearful tremble in his voice, he prayed loudly, "Praise my Lord. Please awaken..."

This was his last chance. As long as the Crawling Lord had not begun eating, he could still struggle!

As long as he finished reciting the prayer, the Crawling Lord would respond to the call of his believer. Even if it did not fit His tastes or habits, He would still demand a sacrifice after dining.

But at least that could buy Tog some precious time.

While He was eating, Tog believed he would have a chance to find a sacrifice to offer Him!

All he needed was time!

Time!

This time, he was prepared. His soul was almost completely sealed off, and he had even shut down his senses to prevent any interference.

However, a strange sensation descended once again, and his mind grew hazy for an instant.

Just one instant, less than a breath—the time it took to utter a few words.

Yet he still recited the prayer incorrectly. He did not even need to know what he had said, because the feeling of being watched by some unknowable existence grew increasingly intense.

His hand finally broke free of his control completely and seized his own throat from behind.

Tog suddenly opened his eyes. Enduring the suffocation of impending death, he stared incredulously in a certain direction.

As a supernatural being of the Gold Coin Path, his precognitive ability erupted with extraordinary power at the moment of death. Relying solely on instinct, he locked onto the figure standing within the curtain of light!

Aaron!

"How could you possibly know Dream Realm Language?"

In extreme astonishment, Tog shouted with his final breath.

Immediately afterward, his chest began to rise and fall uncontrollably. Through his thin robe, several objects could faintly be seen squirming restlessly.

He began to hiccup miserably, one hiccup after another. With each seemingly comical hiccup, his body visibly shrank.

It seemed that each hiccup expelled all the air inside his body.

His complexion had long since turned bluish-black, and his eyes were veined with blood. His last instinct to survive made him weakly open and close his mouth, while his legs began twitching as if electrocuted, making him look just like a fish thrown ashore.

However, everything was futile.

"Don't look! Don't speak!" Sart came to his senses and shouted, "Cover your ears! He's here! Turn around!"

What?

Before Aaron could react, he instinctively turned toward Sart, seeing only the backs of the two of them covering their ears.

Immediately afterward, he heard the crisp sound of something cracking.

Although he did not turn around, he could feel the light behind him vanish in an instant.

Then he heard a horrifying sound, followed by the loud cracking of bones.

The sound of bones breaking rang out as densely as popping beans.

Someone—or rather, something—was chewing on something...

Aaron instinctively covered his ears, but the sound did not weaken in the slightest. It continued to enter his ears without any loss, or perhaps went straight into his mind.

The sound was extraordinarily clear. Under the influence of some mysterious power, Aaron could even identify the exact body part by its sound...

That sound was so crisp and lively. It had to be a finger.

Hmm, this piece seemed especially sturdy. It should be a thighbone.

Why did this one sound so hollow?

Could it be his brain?

Aaron covered his ears and listened with great interest to these wondrous sounds. A trace of confusion inevitably flashed through his mind.

Why had Sart told him not to listen to this sound?

It did not seem threatening at all...

He was just like a refined gentleman. Even though Aaron could sense His hunger from the sound of His chewing, He still ate in an orderly and methodical manner.

Aaron could even imagine a man in a formal suit, wearing a little bow tie and sporting a small mustache, leisurely using a knife and fork to finish the steak on his plate.

Before he realized it, darkness once again enveloped the space and deprived all other sounds of the right to make themselves heard.

Aaron could hear only that monotonous, mechanical chewing. He could not even hear his own heartbeat.

To be honest, he really wanted to see what was happening behind him.

This was far more thrilling than those horror stories.

Of course, Aaron only wanted to court death. He did not actually want to die. Based on his past experience, if he really turned around, he would probably become food for some unknown existence as well.

Thus, he obediently followed Sart's instructions and forcibly held back his curiosity.

Wait, what had Sart said again?

He told him not to turn around, right?

Aaron thought listlessly.

He had no idea how much time had passed. In any case, the chewing had already stopped.

A certain gentleman had leisurely enjoyed a sumptuous meal.

If not for his reason keeping him under control, Aaron might even have whistled.

Wow, he finally finished.

Who would have thought the skill the system gave him would be so useful? Or perhaps saying the wrong thing really could get someone killed.

The Heretical Cultist hiding in Leyden City was dead. Although Lord Bals probably still had some problems, at least they were not anything too serious, right?

Colluding with Heretical Cultists was serious, but relying on Sart or Alice's power, it would probably still be difficult to force the city lord out of office directly. In a while, he might even have to rack his brain over how to communicate with Lord Bals.

Anyone capable of becoming the lord of a city was probably no pushover.

Of course, if he could not squeeze something out of Bals, then Aaron's many years of experience with single-player games would have gone to waste.

After all, a proper single-player gamer had to ensure that not even a blade of grass survived wherever he went.

He had to make the kind NPCs whisper among themselves in secret, exchanging terrified words: "Did your home get visited by a hero?"

In the darkness, there was complete silence.

Aaron, lost in his wild thoughts, vaguely sensed that something was wrong.

Why had Sart and Alice still not appeared?

Or why had that super-brave Siosand not said anything either?

Why could he still hear no other sounds?

Aaron instinctively walked forward. He remembered that Alice and Sart were nearby.

When his foot stepped onto the solid stone bricks, it made an insignificant sound.

Gurgle.

A strange sound rang out, like someone swallowing saliva indistinctly.

It came from behind him—so close that it seemed to be right beside his ear.

Aaron could not hear his own heartbeat, but he distinctly felt it skip a beat.

You bastard, you finished eating and still refuse to leave?

You want seconds?!