Crockta couldn’t believe his eyes. Phymon had the same white star as him on the forehead.0

‘Was he a player too?’0

Crockta wanted to ask that question, but he was unable to. Phymon’s dark eyes bore into him. As if he had been shot, Crockta couldn’t move. He felt like his soul was being sucked into the bottomless darkness of Phymon’s eyes.0

“By any chance, do you…?” asked Phymon in a solemn tone while looking Crockta up and down.0

Crockta felt a chill run down his spine. He felt as exposed as an ugly duckling among a herd of swans.0

Phymon spoke again, but his words no longer had sounds. He was one-sidedly transmitting his thoughts and emotions into Crockta’s mind.0

“You don’t know anything.”1

Crockta’s head buzzed. His knees wanted to give in, but he forced himself to hold his ground. Phymon’s strong will shook Crockta’s mind and rebuked him for his ignorance. However, Crockta managed to raise his head and glare at Phymon.0

Everything suddenly became pitch black. Darkness fell over Crockta’s field of vision, and he could no longer see Tiyo or Anor. Crockta stood by himself inside the darkness.0

“Apostle of the Fallen God,” Phymon called out to Crockta in his mind. “You don’t know anything about him, even with that star.”0

Crockta felt a surge of heat on his forehead. He felt a terrible pain that was as if someone was torching...0