After a brief silence,
A cold, sinister wind suddenly blew through the chamber deep underground. The orange-red candle flames flickered, then abruptly deepened in hue, drawing closer to the color of blood.
The next second, boundless malice surged in from every direction. Brass-colored eyes sprouted from the surrounding shadows and those on the floor. Most were filled with brutality and madness; a few were cold and emotionless. An ethereal, halting voice accompanied them:
"It's you..."
"No... you're not... Him."
"You... who are you?"
The True Creator's words made Edward frown slightly.
Who am I?
That question sounds far too philosophical-so philosophical that I don't know how to answer right now.
A passing Kamen Rider?
"You... who are you?"
The voice rang out again, like glass scraping against stone, so shrill that it seemed about to slice through his eardrums.
Edward hurriedly put on a devout expression. "Lord, I... am Your faithful believer, a lamb in Your flock."
"..."
The brass-colored eyes suddenly widened, as though scrutinizing Edward to identify him. He could only steel himself and keep pretending to be devout and obedient.
The Russian Priest had only told Edward to pray to the True Creator, without telling him what to say after he did. Of course, his main purpose in praying to the True Creator tonight was not to complete the task the Russian Priest had assigned him.
Clasping his hands together, he said, "Lord, how may I reach the Forsaken Land of the Gods and go to Your abode to have an audience with You?"
"You... are not Him."
"You are not Him!"
"You are not Him!"
The voice seemed to become furious all at once, every utterance brimming with rage. Surging malice poured from the eyes, engulfing Edward.
His figure abruptly turned transparent, then appeared behind an