"There's no mistake. Absolutely none."
The Wanderer laughed, the sound seeping from his bones and echoing eerily through the dead silence.
"I've dealt with those heretics for so long. How could I possibly fail to recognize the person they chose as their anchor?"
His laughter grew freer, a long-absent satisfaction shining in his moist eye.
"You were chosen by the Holy Sovereign. You're also what they call the Seed. No matter what happens, you must survive. As long as you live, their plan will suffer, because you can leave this world."
"Good. It seems everything our companions did before wasn't in vain."
Once his laughter subsided, he gritted his teeth, hatred flashing across his ruined face.
"Those damned heretics. If not for them, we would have returned to our homeland long ago. They want to resurrect their Holy Sovereign? In their dreams."
"Sir," Frey finally asked in a small voice, unable to hold back any longer, "what exactly is the Seed? Why was I chosen?"
"Don't worry. Being the Seed won't have any tangible effect on you," the Wanderer said, looking at her. "Everyone who comes to this world is screened, and you were chosen by this world."
"It was precisely because this world chose you that their Holy Sovereign took an interest in you. Then that sacrificial ritual definitively selected you as the Seed."
"Originally, once they refined you, it would all have been over. But you were pulled away."
So that was it.
Lu Yuan listened silently from the side. No wonder the Wanderer had been able to retrieve Frey from that vast expanse of dead silence. They could sense the people chosen by the world. And no wonder those heretics had pursued her like mad dogs. The offering had escaped when it was already within their grasp,