Becoming a God Starts with Acting-Chapter 15: [The Glutton] – The Prophet’s Part (12)

[Now I understand why the system calls the Prophet the most useless god. He can foresee the future but has no power to change it. Ha ha. Do you think he can kill a demon? Demons can only be defeated by absolute power.]

[But we don't know what the Prophet has seen. What if, in the future, he foresaw, humanity is the victor?]

[I don't think so. Maybe the Prophet's ability to see the future has some limitations. Perhaps he only saw that finding the gardener would expose the castle's secret but didn't know that once exposed, the demon would appear.]

[Forget the demon for now—Drake's group finding the gardener is already a problem.]

[Ha ha ha, they would never have expected that the only way to escape the maze is to bring a monster along.]

Silvanus: "..." Again, he silently thanked the enthusiastic viewers from another space. Now he understood.

Everyone else had already gone to the garden, leaving only Silvanus sitting in the kitchen with Mason.

Mason was still struggling internally on the side. Silvanus summoned the system and asked: [What are Faith Points? Why have you never mentioned them before?]

The acting system also seemed a little surprised and quickly responded: [I don't know either, sir. Perhaps it has to do with the unique nature of your role. Since you are playing the role of a god, receiving faith is only natural.]

Then this isn't even acting anymore. Silvanus couldn't help but find it strange.

The acting system suddenly spoke up again: [According to the system's conversion rate, 1 Faith Point equals 100 Acting Points.]

Silvanus: "!!!"

He was so stunned that he didn't care about the system's oddities anymore. Dazed, he asked: [So if I convert them now, I already have 1,000 Acting Points?!]

[Yes, sir.]

Silvanus was beyond excited, but the acting system suddenly added: [However, you can only use the Acting Points you've collected after completing the dungeon.]

Silvanus immediately deflated, disappointed, and puzzled: [So, does that mean I can use Faith Points even inside the dungeon? But you don't have a manual explanation for Faith Points.]

The acting system fell silent momentarily before finally replying: [When the time is right, you will understand how to use them.]

Silvanus frowned, sensing that the system was hiding something from him. Before he could ask anything, the acting system interrupted: [Now, please confirm the top believer you wish to bless. Choose wisely—having a loyal believer will make you even more potent.]

[In the end, I'm just a fake god. A believer is just a title. If you keep treating this so seriously, you will make me feel like a genuine god.] Silvanus gave a dry laugh.

The acting system suddenly turned serious: [If you continue helping humanity close dungeons and save this world, you are no different from a real god. What you are doing is precisely what a god should do.]

Silvanus furrowed his brows. He felt like the system was glorifying him too much. After all, he was just a fake god struggling to survive in this unfamiliar world.

But he didn't waste time debating this: "I choose Drake as my believer."

[Confirmed. Establishing connection with the believer.]

At this moment, Silvanus felt an unfamiliar and utterly strange sensation—almost as if he had gained another pair of eyes, another body entirely, and... emotions.

Rage. Rage. Overwhelming fury, an urge to burn everything, to destroy everything!

Silvanus' eyes snapped open as he gasped for breath. Were these Drake's emotions? Was he always like a volcano on the verge of eruption, even when no one had provoked him?!

At the same time, Silvanus realized that things weren't looking good on Drake's side.

—Some minutes earlier, when Drake's group reached the only garden in the castle.

The garden seemed vast, almost boundless, with an entrance made of entwined vines. Looking inside, they saw flowers of all kinds blooming in full display, as if the climate here was untouched by the outside world.

It was sunny outside, yet the air was cool and shaded within the garden—so peaceful that it felt strangely unsettling.

Drake spoke in a low voice, "Be prepared for battle. Let's move."

After all, this was a dungeon—there was no such thing as true peace. He was already wondering how many monsters were lurking within this garden.

"Everyone, stay close. It's best if we hold hands," Ron called out.

The group linked hands, forming a long chain as they entered the garden. Everything remained eerily tranquil. Yet, despite walking for quite some time, they had to reach the end of the garden, let alone find any sign of the gardener.

"This garden can't possibly be this big," Jessica muttered, frowning.

That was when they finally noticed—the scenery around them was beginning to blur. A mist carrying pollen spread rapidly, gradually narrowing their field of vision.

Drake's voice turned sharp: "Watch the mist."

The moment he spoke, he realized something was wrong.

Behind him—there were no footsteps. There are no sounds of breathing.

And the hand he was holding—it felt wrong. Dry and withered, nothing like a human hand.

Drake's brows furrowed tightly as he spun around—only to be met with the sight of a monster.

A gaunt, emaciated figure, its skin shriveled tight against its bones, now darkened to a sickly blue-black hue. It grinned at Drake, its jaw creaking with the sound of brittle bones grinding together. A thick, putrid black liquid dripped from its mouth onto the ground below.

Seeing Drake turn around, it let out a crazed laugh before lunging at him at terrifying speed.

Drake's gaze turned ice-cold. He gripped the monster's hand and flung it away with a force so great that its skeletal body shattered into fragments upon impact.

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But it didn't end there.

The broken bones sank into the earth, and almost instantly, countless hands burst forth from the ground—large and small, all the same, deathly husks. Some were crawling with writhing maggots, gnawing endlessly at the rotting flesh.

A putrid stench filled the air, overpowering even the fresh floral scent.

Drake couldn't help but think—was this garden filled with so many flowers to mask the stench of the countless corpses buried here?

"Graaaaah!"

The monsters let out guttural growls in unison before charging toward Drake.

Drake burst into laughter. "Perfect timing—I haven't even finished my morning warm-up!"

With that, a massive blade materialized in his grasp.

He swung it, cutting down dozens of monsters with each strike. They were fast, but he was quicker. They couldn't even graze the hem of his clothes.

In terms of strength, these creatures weren't even a fraction as powerful as the ones he had fought the previous night. Their only advantage was speed—and sheer numbers.

But numbers had never been a problem for Drake. He would slaughter them all. If needed, he'd even tear up the very ground to dig out whatever corpses remained hidden beneath.

"This boring fight needs to end."

Drake's voice was steady, but his blade grew even more significant. He would annihilate them all with a single swing—leaving not a single one alive!

But just as he was about to strike, a quiet voice suddenly echoed in his mind:

"Don't kill all the monsters... if you still want to escape the maze."

Drake's hands trembled. His massive blade struck the ground at a slight angle, sparing a handful of the creatures. The force of his swing sent shockwaves through the earth.

His fury erupted. "What the hell?! Prophet—why the hell are you in my head? What do you want? Did I ever permit you to invade my mind?!"

Veins bulged on his forehead, his grip tightening until his bones creaked. From the sheer intensity of his anger, it seemed as if he wanted to crack open his skull and rip Prophet out of his mind.