The market was noisy, yet around the white-cloth stall, there was not half a soul in sight. The Grey Earth Warrior who had been judged to have an "ill-fated destiny" hurriedly took off his Eagle Crown and dropped to his knees with a thud, kowtowing again and again. He looked to the Old Shaman holding the pottery plate, pleading sincerely, almost weeping bitter tears.
"Old prophet, please save me! I am willing to offer another twenty gems, if only you will lift the curse on my fate!"
As Puapu spoke, he reached deep into his robes and willingly pulled out handful after handful of gems.
The Old Shaman remained calm and unruffled, his expression tranquil. He looked for a while at the pile of gems heaped on the white cloth, then glanced at the cloth pouch faintly visible inside Puapu's robes, and suddenly smiled with deep meaning.
"Ha! Foreign warrior. A divine object has a spirit and knows the truth of this world. You have taken out so many fake gems—how could you possibly hide that from a divine object?"
"Ah! Th-this..."
Hearing this, Puapu shuddered all over again. He looked left and right, and only after seeing no one around did he speak in a low voice.
"Respected old prophet, these are... precious Lake Gems! How can you say they are fake?"
"Are they? You should know in your heart!"
The Old Shaman held the pottery plate, a smile at the corner of his mouth, watching the Grey Earth Warrior before him. His gaze was deep, taking in every change in the other man's expression.
"The divine object says that true gems bear the breath of the Earth Mother, and especially in turquoise, there will be the Mother's divinity! But the gems in your hand have no breath of