The Phantom Prophet Couldn't Admit Defeat
A lamp hung inside the Tent, warm yellow light spilling across the thirteen-square-meter space.
The Four Pillar Gods Church had long since prepared for camping in the wilderness. The convoy had brought along such a large inflatable camp Tent, formed from a single integrated air column. Aside from a bed, it could even fit a small sofa and a small wine table, making it like a mobile little Wooden Cabin.
Vishy sat at the edge of the bed, her stockinged legs stepping on the carpet, both hands braced on the bedframe, looking every bit as relaxed as if she had returned to her own bedroom. But beneath the Maid Outfit, every nerve in her body was taut, her heart pounding wildly, so nervous it was as if she had entered a Devil's Lair.
"Want a drink?"
"No!"
Ash glanced at her, thinking, Is this guy really that excited about becoming a half god? Even his voice has gotten so forceful. He picked up the water kettle, poured two cups of water, and came back. When he sat down on the air mattress, Vishy nearly bounced up from the edge of the bed.
"This bed has great elasticity."
Vishy explained without blushing or missing a beat, took the cup of water, and drained it in one gulp, fanning at her neck. "Isn't it a little hot in here? If you have something to say, why don't we talk outside—"
"Hot?" Ash found that a little strange. The perceived temperature was only around ten degrees or so. Or were Elves cold-natured creatures? "You can take off your clothes."
"Huh?"
"You're wearing such a thick Maid Outfit. It's not strange that you're hot." Ash took out a small Notebook and flipped through its contents. "Actually, I've been