Meanwhile, the same fragmented, layered muttering rang out beside Lu Ban's ear as he lay reduced to a lump of minced flesh. Unlike the two young members of the Quicksand Council, Lu Ban could actually understand some of it.
The language was hopelessly chaotic, but he could more or less make out its meaning.
The other party was condemning him for impersonating its name and threatening to bring down true divine punishment.
Lu Ban paid it no mind. He even mocked it.
"Nyah nyah nyah."
That was the sound the lump of flesh made.
The two young members of the Quicksand Council looked confused. They had no idea what the words meant.
"Do you think it's telling us to inform the others?"
"Could it mean we shouldn't tell anyone? It just said we mustn't look directly at a god!"
At the same time, some contamination flowed through the illusory passage.
Within the lump of flesh that was Lu Ban's body, a blue-green substance spread out like the germs of some kind of plague.
The two of them took one look and hurriedly lowered their heads again.
"This appearance really proves he's the true Heavenly Father!"
Those blue-green marks were proof of what they called the Sacred Mark. Such patterns appeared on everyone who believed in the Heavenly Father, and the closer one was to the deity, the more obvious the marks became.
Most people feared them, however. They described the condition as "disease," "plague," or "corruption." They had no idea that these marks were the gaze of a god cast upon them—a gift.
Only those who truly accepted what the Heavenly Father bestowed could become his dependents.
The members of the Quicksand Council, meanwhile, wanted to make Utopia great again and spread faith in the Heavenly Father throughout this desert