"And for six thousand consecutive years, our race must sincerely make offerings to the Heavenly Dao and worship it devoutly. Only then would the Heavenly Dao deliver a prophecy—and it would only give guidance regarding the target of the prophecy we received ten thousand years ago. Simply put, our prophecy is one-sided. If we want to know what calamity the Merfolk race will face in the future, we must make offerings for many years before we might learn of it. It is nothing like divination, where one merely pinches one's fingers and immediately knows which tribulation lies ahead. The difference is simply worlds apart." Ye Lan's tone brimmed with envy.
Yang Chen stroked his chin, not expecting things to be so mystical. "So you mean that the Merfolk race began making offerings to the Heavenly Dao ten thousand years ago, and three thousand years ago, you finally received a prophecy saying that someone named Yang Chen would come save your race in the future?"
"Precisely so," Ye Lan answered truthfully.
This was too mystical.
Even Yang Chen, who considered himself well-traveled and knowledgeable, found this matter rather unbelievable.
"The person in the prophecy back then wasn't Commander Ba Chen?"
Many people stood dumbfounded.
At the forefront of the crowd stood an enormous merfolk man, clad in dazzling scale armor. He cut an imposing figure.
He was Ba Chen, the President Commander of the merfolk patrols, responsible for commanding tens of thousands of merfolk warriors. His status was beyond reach.
Ba Chen had long been hailed as a rare genius of the Merfolk race. Many had even believed that he was the person indicated by the prophecy back then.
Even Ba Chen himself had thought it was him.
Yet now that the prophecy's answer had been revealed, it was not him