"Already?"
Fu Qian's answer clearly took Weihle by surprise.
Marco, standing beside him, looked even more wary as he stared at Fu Qian's strangely unsettling right hand.
"Relax. It's just getting harder to maintain the form it had a moment ago."
Fu Qian gestured to his two colleagues that there was no need to worry, then raised his hand before him.
The next moment, his bizarre, dazzling right hand slowly turned translucent again, and the aura of the curse was suppressed a little.
But this time, it lasted only a few seconds before changing back.
"That's how it is. The form is hard to maintain, and under these circumstances, the curse is spreading noticeably faster."
He didn't seem particularly troubled by his current predicament. After commenting on it, Fu Qian looked up at Weihle.
"So when's the soonest I can get help from Crow Feather?"
That back-and-forth display was, of course, something Fu Qian had put on.
Although he had been able to sense that the ability he'd gained from Camus was becoming unstable, it hadn't been fading nearly this quickly.
The change just now had been the result of him deliberately dispelling it.
The purpose was simple: to dispel Weihle's suspicions.
In Fu Qian's view, this demigod he'd just met was far beyond Marco in both strength and cunning.
That earlier explanation alone wasn't enough to make Fu Qian optimistic that Weihle truly had no doubts about him.
Especially with a major operation like this involved. Now that Fu Qian had "heard" about the plan, Weihle's guard would undoubtedly be fully raised.
So at this moment, in this place, Fu Qian was unquestionably dancing on the edge of a knife.
One wrong move, and it would be one against three.
A whole lineup of a divine envoy, a