The world doesn't need succubi to save it.

As long as we ultimately achieve victory in the war of gods, it will all be worthwhile.

Even if all the mortal believers die, it doesn't matter, because their divine kingdom already has enough supplicants and believers.

Given a few more decades, everything can be restored to its original state, or even better than before!

Mortals cannot challenge the rule of the gods, and the gods are preoccupied with other matters. Most importantly, the lives and deaths of mortals have little impact on the gods...

These factors combined to create this coincidence, giving the Prophet's Society a chance to breathe and grow.

But such days were destined not to last forever.

The war of the gods will not last forever. Once things begin to calm down, they will definitely devote more energy to dealing with these minor matters.

When that time comes, mortals with only weapons will be utterly unable to face magic and divine arts.

A strong will may save lost mortals, but it cannot destroy gods.

Ok.

If they want to rebel, what they need is something that can truly protect them.

Neither the prophet nor the Sky City can save everyone.

All they really need is one thing: power.

Moreover, it must be a force that belongs to them, a force that they can truly hold in their hands, a force that can be used not only to protect themselves but also to fight back against their enemies.

For this world, this power points to only one thing—magic.

The realm of the gods, the power derived from their authority.

If mortals could truly master magic and gain the power to protect themselves, then when the day of "Judgment Day" arrives, they would truly have the ability to resist.

But this power was like a giant Pandora's box, which Alice dared not touch lightly, or even mention.

Alice has traveled to many parts of the world and witnessed too many precedents.

Power is intoxicating; few people can resist its allure, in fact, almost none.

She had no idea what would happen once the prophet gained control of this power...

Will they become better? Or will they, like others, go down the path of power addiction and eventually lose their way?

The Prophet Society did give Alice a feeling that was different from all previous ones, but Alice was not entirely sure about the extent to which the Prophet Society could actually achieve it.

She didn't know, she was unsure, and she was still hesitant.

Alice has been hesitating about this for almost ten years, but she still hasn't made up her mind.

Alice originally had someone to talk to, but that person is no longer by her side; that idiot has embarked on the most dangerous journey alone.

He chose to face the most dangerous challenge alone, but at the same time, he also placed this most difficult choice on Alice alone.

"You, you did this on purpose, didn't you? Making something like this... huh?"

Just as Alice was complaining, she suddenly noticed a very subtle fluctuation. The crystal disappeared instantly and then reappeared in a small building.

Alice frowned slightly as she watched Turs slowly open his eyes.

"........."

He seems to be... on his deathbed.

After a moment of confusion, the old man, whose life was nearing its end, finally came to his senses and looked at the crystal beside him.

"...Is that Lady Alice?"

"Ah."

"Where is the Prophet? I think..."

"He went out and isn't here now."

Turs, who was interrupted, paused for a moment, then asked:

"When will he be back?"

Alice could only remain silent, as she didn't know the answer to that question either.

Perhaps in the next moment, perhaps...

Your prophet will never return.

Chapter 516 Death

The prophet's fate is unknown, and his return date is uncertain.

This is certainly not the answer Tulls wanted to hear.

Alice's personality wasn't so bad that she would give such an answer to a dying person, so she could only remain silent and then somewhat awkwardly change the subject:

"He'll come back on his own when he wants to, so let's just leave him be for now. How are you feeling right now?"

Blinking, Turs stared blankly at the crystal that floated beside the bed, his eyes unmoving.

Just as Alice was feeling somewhat uncomfortable, Turs seemed to have finally accepted this explanation, closing his eyes and sensing for a moment before saying:

"I feel much better now than before."

"...My breathing is easier, my vision is clearer, and I feel like I can stand up on my own. I don't have any other pain."

As he said this, Turs gave a kind smile.

But Alice couldn't bring herself to smile at Tulls's genuine smile.

It wasn't that she wasn't happy about Tulls's improvement, but rather that he felt it was all an illusion.

Back to light.

Tulls was actually at the end of his rope; his life was truly on its last legs.

From the moment he woke up, every minute and every second was Turs's last.

This is a cruel thing.

But this is a fact that we have to accept.

If you are unwilling to change yourself, then birth, aging, sickness, and death will always be the norm in life.

After a moment of silence, Alice decided to tell Turs the truth.

As an elderly person, he should know how much time he has left and has the right to decide to do what he truly wants to do in his final days.

Alice didn't want him to leave with regrets at the end.

"Turs, you're going to die."

"...Yes, I know."

Compared to Alice's difficult attempt to speak, Turs seemed remarkably calm about the matter.

He didn't even raise an eyebrow; he simply accepted the fact.

"Actually, I had a feeling that this day had finally come."

Turs had actually made preparations a long, long time ago.

He should have faced his death long ago, but the prophet's request made him choose to persevere.

Although this prolonged existence caused him immense pain, the thought that it would somewhat alleviate the burden on the prophet's shoulders kept Turs going.

After all, being able to help the prophet was something he had always hoped for.

Not to mention, that was the prophet's only request.

Shaking his head with some regret, Turs gave a wry smile.

"I promised the Prophet not long ago that I would continue, but it seems, heh... I'm going to have to break my promise."

"...This is not your fault."

Smiling, Tulls said softly:

"Yes, Lady Alice, please rest assured, I did not mean to blame anyone, nor am I complaining about anything."

"I just feel a little regretful that I didn't keep my promise to my friend."

Since the Prophet is willing to call me a friend, I will not let him feel lonely anymore.

It's just a pity that I still couldn't accompany you to the end.

Tulls was just a little disappointed about it.

"I see."

Alice was unaware of what happened when Ning Feng and Turs met, but in the ten years she had witnessed it firsthand, she could understand how deep the bond between the two was.

In a sense, Turs could even be considered Ning Feng's spiritual pillar, if not the biggest, then at least one of the strongest.

If we were to draw an analogy between this relationship and that of deities, Turs would be equivalent to the prophet's first believer and his most steadfast fanatic.

He is qualified to be reborn as an archangel in God's kingdom, or even as a special being from God.

For the gods, death is not the end for believers; they will continue to stay by the gods' side.

But for a prophet who refused to become a god, this would be a final farewell.

This might be the only thing the prophet regretted after refusing to become a god.

Both Ning Feng and Turs had done their best; one was trying to prolong their friend's life, while the other was enduring the pain and continuing to persevere.

But the world is cruel; not all dreams and ideals can be realized, and in the end, no miracle occurred.

This outcome was somewhat sad and regrettable for Alice, who was used to seeing life and death.

"You really don't intend to continue accompanying me in another way? If you want, I have many ways to help you continue living."

So Alice broke the rules and spoke, uttering the words she had never intended to say:

"The method I'm referring to isn't some evil transformation, but something you can all accept..."

However, before Alice could finish speaking, Turs quietly interrupted her:

"Lady Alice."

The old man's voice was weak, but it carried a firm emotion that Alice could not refuse.