Sart the Prophet

Aaron leaned against the wall, watching the golden sunlight spill down from above, his emotions complicated.

He had been taken to the prison by the city guard, yet he had not suffered the abuse he had expected.

Captain Colin had not only found a doctor to treat his wounds, but the prison even provided him with three meals a day.

Though the food was somewhat plain, it was still vegetable soup and white bread, with even some cured meat.

From Aaron's original memories, food of this quality already far surpassed what ordinary commoners ate in a day. For the body's former owner, a down-and-out noble, it was something he rarely saw even once a year.

More often than not, the former owner could only eat hard-baked black bread. Sometimes, he could not even guarantee three meals a day!

At times, Aaron even wondered whether prisons in this other world all received such treatment.

Or was his status as a fallen noble finally proving useful?

There was a reason he had been locked up in prison.

Captain Colin had specifically explained it to him as well. Since Aaron had undergone a Descent Ritual—and one belonging to the Rat-Faced Cult, which specialized in concealment—a prophet needed to perform a ritual inspection on him.

In this world, prophets and diviners could not only use the stars to foresee the future and glimpse certain scenes from it, but also construct rituals to verify identities.

Although identity-verification rituals were exceedingly cumbersome, their results were supremely accurate.

All-powerful mages could also imitate a prophet's abilities and achieve similar results through spells from certain schools.

However, the spells of mages could be deceived or distorted. They were far less direct and useful than a prophet's abilities.

Mages might not need the support of an official kingdom, but prophets were almost naturally bound to the authorities.

In a sense, a prophet's status was even more exalted than that of a mage.

In this world where supernatural abilities ran rampant, prophets themselves possessed almost no direct combat power aside from supportive abilities such as prophecy.

Just as Aaron's thoughts were running wild, he heard another set of footsteps.

Alice and Ed arrived outside his cell with a man dressed in a grayish-yellow linen robe.

Aaron instinctively stepped forward.

"He is a passing prophet, Master Sart. He has come today to verify your identity," Alice said coldly. "If you are merely a sacrifice caught up in the ritual incident, you can leave unharmed. But if you are not..."

Ed promptly drew his coldly gleaming one-handed sword. "If you intend to resist, then make it quick."

Seeing the undisguised killing intent in their eyes, Aaron instinctively shook his head.

All he had to do was prove his identity. Fine, prove it.

Aaron looked at Sart, who stood silently to the side.

He appeared rather young, seemingly under thirty. Though his features were ordinary, the eyes that seemed to contain starlight were especially striking.

Pretending not to hear the warnings from the two of them, Sart merely poured a little azure powder from the leather pouch at his waist.

The azure powder seemed quite precious. After a moment's consideration, he actually poured part of it back into the pouch, leaving only a token pinch in his palm.

Only then did he mutter, "As agreed, you are supposed to help me find someone. I do not want to get involved in your affair."

Alice nodded and said gently, "We came to Leyden City to find someone as well. Since you require assistance, we are naturally willing to serve you, Master."

Alice understood this perfectly well. In truth, unless absolutely necessary, prophets rarely used identity-verification rituals.

On one hand, prophets could naturally identify Heretical Cult followers without condition. On the other hand, those physically defenseless prophets were also targets of Heretical Cult followers and could easily die in an assassination.

For example, Leyden City's previous prophet had died in an assassination carried out by a fanatical believer from some unknown cult.

That was why Aaron had been mooching free meals in prison for several days.

There was no other reason. Finding a new prophet required time, and perhaps even luck.

Had Prophet Sart not entered Leyden City and registered his identity today, Alice and the others would truly have had to consider how to verify Aaron's identity.

Looking at the powder in Sart's hand, Aaron could not suppress his curiosity. "What is that?"

"Spirit Powder. It is used to connect the stars in the sky with your soul. Under the stars' witness, your spirituality will naturally reveal itself."

Holding out the powder in his palm, Sart walked over to Aaron. He deliberately showed it to Aaron, then gently blew on it.

The azure powder immediately coated Aaron's face. He instinctively waved it away, but the powder vanished in an instant, dispersing directly into the air.

At that moment, Sart somehow produced a transparent crystal ball no larger than an orange.

As the Spirit Powder disappeared, the crystal ball was coated in a crystalline blue layer. Several magical runes could vaguely be seen flickering within it.

"There is indeed a very strong Heretical Cult aura on him. If I have not misjudged it, it should be the Rat-Faced Cult?" Sart looked at Alice and asked.

Before Alice could answer, he continued on his own, "The concentration of the aura far exceeds that of someone who merely participated in the ritual. Since you told me it was a Descent Ritual, I suspect he has already become a Rat-Face occupying this body."

He casually glanced at Aaron, then looked toward Alice. "I am merely stating the facts."

At those words, Alice, Ed, and Aaron all changed expressions.

What did he mean, merely stating the facts? He had already said he suspected it, damn it!

Aaron's mind went numb. He opened his mouth, yet had no idea how to explain himself.

After thinking it over for the past two days, he could roughly guess that the black smoke from that day had actually been some kind of soul entity.

It was just that this unlucky soul entity had become the system's startup fuel.

But he absolutely could not explain that to Alice and the others, nor did he know how.

How could people in another world possibly understand a magical system?

Ed drew his longsword again. Without even calling for the jailer, he cleaved through the thumb-thick iron chain on the wooden door with a single stroke, yanked the door open, and strode inside.

This was nothing like the earlier intimidation. Aaron could clearly see the undisguised killing intent in his eyes.

He instinctively retreated several steps, but the cramped cell had no extra space to give.

The accident came too fast, like a tornado...

For heaven's sake, someone was going to chop him up!

System ancestor?

System grandpa?

System dad!

...System son!

Aaron's seniority kept rising, yet the system gave no response at all.

Ed was highly disciplined and wasted no words. Guarding against a possible counterattack, he raised his hand and struck with his sword.

He knew full well that the enemy before him might release Heretical Cult magic the moment he let his guard down. The Rat-Faced Cult in particular had several troublesome spells per member.

He could not give this cultist any opportunity.

Ed was extremely confident in his swordsmanship. This strike sealed off every avenue of escape for Aaron.

This man was dead!

But at that moment, they heard a cry of alarm. "Do not attack!"

Aaron only felt a pale blue shield of light appear before him. Ed's inevitable strike merely swept across the shield, leaving a deep sword mark on the wall behind it.

A few sparks flew onto Aaron's face, and the slight sting made him feel the pressure of death once more.

Death is like the wind, always by my side.

He had just transmigrated and been offered as a sacrifice to some unknown existence. Then he had nearly been beaten to death by some old comrade in his seventies or eighties. He had obediently stayed in a cell for barely two days, and now someone was going to chop him up?

Why was it that lines like "Spare him!" always came only at the very last moment?!