Chrysalis Chapter 1743 - Prophetic

Fine, Beyn proved irritating enough as a mere Priest. Next, he began organizing pilgrimages that honestly resembled crusades in many ways. I didn't approve, particularly because they happened in my name, and as far as I knew, I remained merely a gleaming, impressive ant-beast and not a deity, but okay, do what you will.

After that, he transformed into something like an envoy, venturing across the world to aid in negotiations and spread his odd doctrines throughout the Dungeon. Was I fond of it? Absolutely not. Did it distance Beyn from me? Indeed. Sacrifices must be made by everyone.

Lately, he's gone back to frontline preaching, collaborating with his Priests to integrate them into the combined troop units sent to the fifth level. After Solant learned of that aura enhancement, she'd never head into combat without it, I imagine.

And now this one-armed rascal attempts to claim he's a prophet?! Precisely, a prophet?!

This development displeases me greatly.

"How on earth are you my prophet? That doesn't seem like a role you assign to yourself. I certainly never handed it to you!"

With excessive enthusiasm, Beyn hurls himself onto the ground at my feet and bows low before me.

"GREAT ONE, IT'S NO TITLE I CLAIM FOR MYSELF, BUT A CLASS AWARDED TO ME BY THE SYSTEM!"

What.

"What exactly is this Class named? And lower your voice, for heaven's sake."

My antennae require cleaning. The pheromones hang ridiculously heavy in the atmosphere. A drawback of pheromone-based talk is his ability to yell despite his face being ground into the ground. Truly ground in. That appears quite sore.

"Prophet of the Colony, Great One."

Oh… no. Could Gandalf be playing a trick on me? This ranks as the very last thing I desired. It will merely amplify this fool's fantasies beyond measure. The drivel he disseminates everywhere is troublesome enough; soon he'll spread it with greater clout. Once others discover this, their responses could be unpredictable.

Perhaps a way exists to mitigate it.

"What abilities does your fresh Class provide? Any hints from the System messages?"

I hope it's unremarkable. Should the Class boast a grand title yet offer little real power, I could curb the fallout.

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"W-well… it mentions that the… bond growing between us shall be fortified."

He may seem unsure, yet I sense he's quivering with thrill. The fellow before me radiates pure bliss. He's flooded with delight, bursting with fervent rapture, infused with holy fervor. His extreme elation over this spells trouble for me.

Regarding his words, however, I'm even more opposed.

Our connection will grow stronger? What bond?!

Hold on… I beg you…

My awareness plunges into the Nave. Beyn occupied a spot there for ages; I've communicated with him via it… once… perhaps twice. At present, I focus on his position, but it's no longer a simple seat.

Instead, he occupies a plinth. A pedestal. Moreover, his spectral form differs from the others', now radiant. This spells nothing positive.

[Beyn, do you hear me?] Through the Nave, I extend contact to him.

[YES, GREAT ONE! I DO!]

[QUIET DOWN!]

In remorse, he prostrates deeper as I shake my head. That stings, blast it. Yet… a change exists here. He replied directly to me. Usually, the Nave lets me grasp others' words as a hub for their intent. I perceive their minds… in a highly restricted fashion.

This fellow responded right through the Nave. Implying… he can converse with me at any moment….

Oh… oh no.

"From my side, it feels like no alterations occurred," I clear my throat. "I'm unclear on its significance. Likely trivial and utterly ordinary. Does it offer more features?"

"Great One! It indicates I can utter words in your voice."

"You can do what exactly?"

"Or maybe, you can use me to speak?"

Of course, he'd adore that. I hesitate to test it, fearing that if it works, he'll turn unbearable. It can't be real, right? Via the Nave, I probe, directing my awareness toward him.

On the floor, Beyn trembles, face still flattened against it.

"Ah… ah… ah…" he utters. "Forgotten… GAH… the feel of tongues. So strange."

Disgusting! A foul aftertaste lingers in my mouth.

Thus… I truly can speak via him. That's… mostly pointless… and downright odd.

Beyn lies motionless now, though moisture gathers beneath his face on the ground. Quite the flood of tears from a single person.

"If that's the extent of your Class's powers, it's hardly noteworthy. Don't get overly thrilled."

Beyn raises his head briefly to wipe the tears from his eyes.

"One additional detail it mentions, Great One. It states I've turned into a vital channel for faith."

What? That implies…

Once again into the Nave, my thoughts encircling the plinth where Beyn perches, appearing conceited and irksome.

Something… radiates from it. Unlike the Will coursing via the Vestibule, a new essence emerges. Could this be… faith? Devotion?

Oh… that appeals to me.

"I sense your presence… Great One… my deity," Beyn sobs against the Dungeon's surface.

Every other Priest in the chamber drops to their knees and slams their faces down with tremendous force.

Instinctively, I polish my antennae. This… this bodes ill.