The Loquacious Prophet

The cat grabbed her hand, which was trying to reach for Oute, and whispered, "Miss Laurentina, what are you doing?"

Although it wasn't the first time they had slept together, Kal'tsit could clearly sense the difference.

The nun, who had previously been somewhat naive and endearing, now possessed a different kind of "aggressiveness" in her actions, despite her feigned smile. At times, she concealed her recovery, and at other times, she recklessly used her body as a weapon.

"Doctor, I can't breathe!" The Abyssal Hunters's wine-red eyes flickered, and he dramatically withdrew Kal'tsit's hand, placing it over a melon. "It feels like something is pressing on my chest."

Kal'tsit was stunned.

A familiar hand quietly moved to the slightly protruding area— Oute seemed to have heard the Abyssal Hunters's "nonsense."

"Stop fooling around! Amiya's in the tent too!" Kal'tsit warned.

What if she's not here?

Or perhaps she doesn't feel it?

A gust of air assaulted Kal'tsit's sensitive ear canal, scorching a gaping hole in her defenses. "Don't worry, she's asleep."

Kal'tsit's heart trembled, yet she remained conscious.

The Aegir seemed to have noticed this as well. She chuckled, and before Kal'tsit could react, her delicate hand met Oute's in front of Kal'tsit, and each of them drew an arc with a pebble as the center.

Don't treat me like a toy!

Just as Kal'tsit was about to lash out, the two pebbles hardened from repeated tracing. Although she still had all her strength, she was afraid of hurting Oute and dared not make a move.

The Abyssal Hunters breathed softly, then spoke into Kal'tsit's other ear, her eyes fixed on Oute in the darkness of the tent. "Let's do something fun together."

She shouldn't be able to see Oute, but her eyes were extremely determined.

"Ah!" Kal'tsit was about to say something, but suddenly froze, her voice completely off-key. "Amiya!"

The two bent legs rubbed together anxiously under their armpits, the scent of hormones gradually intensifying. If you listened closely, you could even hear a slight, slippery sound from the friction.

"She must be asleep."

Oute reiterated that a hand had already joined the Abyssal Hunters below.

Laurentina showed no mercy, just as she had done to Oute in the bathtub not long ago. She sucked on Kal'tsit's earlobe, her scarlet tongue gradually probing into the cat's ear canal.

"You, both of you!"

Suppressing her panting, the cat seized an opening, grabbed Aegir, and rolled over on the spot.

The tent shook.

In this way, the one caught in the middle of the two becomes the Abyssal Hunters.

As Kal'tsit had predicted, Oute was completely unconcerned about the change in his target. His relentless sensual stimulation immediately turned its attention to Laurentina.

After a brief pause, the pebble that had been moved became Laurentina's.

Driven by a desire for revenge, Kal'tsit quickly ventured into the abyss below the Abyssal Hunters.

"The Aegir are truly gifted." She stirred it slightly and found it incredibly smooth.

"Ha... I've long been prepared to dedicate myself to 'the Lord'." Laurentina forced herself to remain silent, but her skin still trembled uncontrollably.

Beyond words, she ceased her stubbornness. The huntress's lips parted slightly, and like a fish out of water, she helplessly turned her pretty face towards Oute, letting out a low "hoarse" sound.

Oute seemed to have noticed Kal'tsit's earlier predicament as well. While accepting the hunter's invitation, he also reached out to the cat.

So, while the hunter was still experiencing a sense of satisfaction and fulfillment, Oute and Kal'tsit were kissing each other on her chest.

The unfamiliar heat and thirst forced Kal'tsit to lean forward repeatedly, constantly absorbing water. Meanwhile, Oute's head would occasionally tilt back.

They came down one after the other, their movements back and forth amidst Laurentina's abundant fruit.

Laurentina pointed her toes, lost in thought for a long time, the scent of blood washing over her as hormones filled the air. She quickly and angrily pulled Kal'tsit's hand away and threw her own upper body onto Kal'tsit's body.

The campfire continued to crackle and pop, casting a long shadow over the tent.

The tent's sharp triangular shape appeared so enormous against the church wall that it trembled incessantly even though there was no wind inside.

"..."

Amiya's eyes were tightly closed, but a few blushes rose on her cheeks.

Dr. Kal'tsit is one thing!

Even the Specter!

Along with shyness, anger and some indescribable emotions were also surging within her.

This subtle feeling even made her stop calling her "Specter" in her heart.

Chapter 203 The Noisy the Prophet

Before the group lay the corpses of skeletal mobs, the "Skeleton Sword Saint," acolytes, and skeletal bureaucrats.

"The enemy is behind the wall of that room, right?" Laurentina wielded her circular saw, flinging bone dust mixed with blood and mud off the saw blade. "Then why are we still going this way?"

It turns out that although the group's campsite was only a wall away from the "noisy the Prophet," due to a lack of necessary equipment, Oute and his companions ended up having to take a long detour.

Oute really can do anything except lie outright.

"Breaking through the wall to reach the boss's dungeon requires an 'reality' that is far too dense," Oute said in a strange way. "What I need for now is a more 'thin' reality to stabilize my power in searching for the 'mystic'."

"Is that so!? Doc Otter!"

In the distance, Amiya tiptoed and poured holy water into a solitary urn placed in a corner of the corridor... The holy water dissolved the ashes, revealing the shimmering contents.

"... Gemstones!?" The little rabbit stared in disbelief. "What kind of place would hide burial goods in a corridor like this!?"

"We still have much to say about the wondrous design of this world," Oute said calmly, "But the focus now is on the Prophet."

"Anyway, this is how we're going to fight now, right?"

Laurentina had already placed her hand in front of the door.

"Speaking of which, aren't we supposed to be facing a 'The Prophet' in the church?" she asked curiously. "This door looks more like it leads to a basement than the main church hall!"

The gate was wide open.

The firelight from the torch in the Abyssal Hunters's hand shone into the dark inner chamber. A putrid smell wafted from inside the door, and after the dragging of chains, a tall shadow appeared in the area illuminated by the firelight.

The fragments of the bench divided the entire dungeon into two parts: one part was empty, with only the precariously perched spire of the Challengers' side; the other part was filled with expensive wood and the neurotic the Prophet.

The room was not in a good condition; it resembled a secret missionary site. The ceiling was severely warped, and even the footsteps of Oute and his group could cause the bricks to shake.

The Prophet was dressed in rags, his body bearing the marks of torture. A huge yoke bound his neck and left hand, while his right hand had somehow escaped. On his scarlet right palm, a pair of sticky, bloody, lifeless eyes stared blankly at whatever was in sight.

"This madman is hiding here, behind the bench, babbling his stupid nonsense!" Oute slowly recited the lines that originally belonged to his the Ancestor: "His maddening laughter echoes maddeningly—we must shut him up!"

"What's going on with this room...?"

Before Kal'tsit could finish speaking, the noisy the Prophet had already noticed the squad.

His expression was sorrowful, and he turned his lifeless eyes to the crowd, proclaiming loudly, "Those who believe in idols are in trouble!"

"Doc Otter ... what you just did seemed..." Amiya pointed out sharply, "To say things that are only half-understood."

"A malevolent veil has been cast over everyone's head!" The Prophet exclaimed. "You should have joined me in fighting against that evil sand!"

He then went on to say, in a frenzy, "Evil needs accomplices! Accomplices need evil!"

The Prophet suddenly stared intently at Oute, his voice growing louder and louder.

"You! A storm is coming!"

Prophecy.

Oute felt a sudden weight in front of him.

If one had the chance to look up, one would surely see the rubble teetering precariously above his head.

Oute didn't have time to look up.

The broken skull floated up on its own, flames already blazing in its eye sockets. The crimson light from the skull's eye sockets shone on the Prophet, who seemed oblivious.

Weakening Curse!

The Prophet chuckled foolishly, seemingly completely unable to comprehend what he was facing. The circular saw hummed, and dark magic and dark Originium creatures attacked him one after the other.

He paid no heed, continuing to yell at Oute and the others, "Locusts! The hall should be overflowing with grain!"

"It is you! It is you who have awakened the calamity!"

"It was you! You destroyed everything!"

The highly toxic saliva splattered, corroding everyone's weapons and equipment like sulfuric acid.

At this moment, the rock above Oute's head finally fell to the ground. Oute took a step back; apart from causing some visual obstruction, Oute falling rocks seemed to have no other effect.

Dodge.

The result of the "Weakening Curse" is to reduce the enemy's attack power, but as long as the attack doesn't hit, the enemy won't take any damage. This seems to reflect that, in a sense, the entire boss dungeon is an extension of the boss unit's life.

While everyone else was indifferent to the Prophet's predictions, Kal'tsit took them very seriously.

While she worked to repair the corrosion damage to herself, she also proactively asked the Prophet, "What exactly is the calamity you speak of?!"

The Prophet then turned the eyeball in his palm toward Kal'tsit, his lifeless eyes seeming to display a mockery beyond reason. "Disaster?"

"The key to understanding disaster lies in identifying the key disaster!"

Kal'tsit's face turned ashen.

The Prophet's seemingly nonsensical statement almost explicitly reveals his status as a part of the Oute personality: this indescribable "disaster," whose very description is a mechanism for its spread, is precisely what previous civilizations faced, and what Oute once faced...

Disaster.

Kal'tsit was absolutely certain: those fragments of memories about the previous civilization had collectively shaped this world in a distorted way.

Laurentina seemed somewhat tired of the current rigid turn-based system. The heavy circular saw in her hands was as light and free as a pipa in the hands of a flying apsara.

The hunter's boots briefly came into contact with the numerous fragments of the bench, ultimately leading their owner before the Prophet.

Oute nodded slightly and continued to command, "Stop him from releasing the prophecy."