"Was it unhappy?"
"What was that supposed to be?"
"Ink Qilin, that couldn't be normal, could it?"
After a moment of silence, questions came at Ink Qilin from every side. His face darkened.
"It was badly injured and returned to the Alchemy World!" Ink Qilin said. "My cooldown has been extended, too. I can't use the skill again for a month, and I have to pay compensation!"
He gritted his teeth as he spoke.
Prophets were especially prone to backlash. It was much like a fighter getting hurt by an opponent—just part of the job.
But he had never imagined the backlash would be this severe!
Locked out for a month? How was that any different from losing the skill altogether!?
"That's a contract-type skill, isn't it?" asked a middle-aged man with twin pupils and a commanding bearing.
He stated it as a fact, but it caused no stir. Ink Qilin did not deign to answer, his expression still grim.
The middle-aged man's next words, however, set everyone off.
"As it happens, one of my tenants signed a summoning contract too—with a lord-level creature from the Shadow World!" The corners of Chen Bing's mouth lifted in satisfaction.
"What? A lord-level creature? Chen Bing, which tenant got that lucky?"
"What good does telling us that do now? Can it drive back those Blood Mist Creatures outside?"
"Read the room before you show off!"
"Brother Bing, bring your tenant out and let us have a look!"
Chen Bing swept his twin-pupiled gaze across the room. A commanding pressure rolled outward, silencing everyone.
Then he declared, "I'll resolve this crisis without charging any of you a thing!"
No one cheered. Instead, they grew wary.
What came free often cost the most.
Chen Bing continued, "But afterward, I want to become acting Building Lord!"