[The Glutton] – The Prophet's Part (13)

"Why are you always so angry, Drake?"

Prophet's hoarse voice seemed to awaken something in Drake—soft, yet unmistakably clear as it echoed in his mind.

Drake hesitated slightly. By now, the garden lay in ruins because of him. A few lucky surviving monsters lay motionless to the side, as if trying to play dead.

Making monsters fear a human—Drake certainly had a talent for that.

He frowned and said coldly, "Whether I'm angry or not has nothing to do with you. Just get the hell out of my head already."

"I only appear because you need me, Drake. No matter how strong you are, there will always be things that strength alone cannot solve. Your rage always clouds your reason," Prophet continued, as if seeing right through him.

Drake suddenly let out a cold laugh. "You'd get along great with Silas. You both have a knack for being insufferable!"

Silas was a smart guy, the complete opposite of Drake. Even his abilities revolved around seeing things that shouldn't be seen. He would be the ideal believer for Prophet. Maybe once Prophet met Silas, he'd stop bothering Drake about being his believer.

Thinking of this, Drake felt like he should be relieved. But instead, all he felt was irritation.

He was strong. Very strong. So why did everything feel so empty? Why was he so frustrated all the time?!

[This is the side effect of constantly growing stronger through dungeons,] the acting system suddenly chimed in. [Perhaps his abilities are tied to his rage—the angrier he is, the stronger he becomes. But if he's not careful, he'll be consumed by his meaningless fury.]

Sensing the endless rage surging through Drake's mind, the Prophet suddenly said, "I don't know who Silas is, but you are my believer, Drake. You swore to protect me, yet a useless fool cannot."

Drake instantly sprang up. "Who the hell are you calling useless?! Do you have any idea who I am?! I'm humanity's strongest warrior! The strongest!"

Though he seemed furious, in reality, his mood had lightened. Someone had chosen him for the first time—without caring about Silas!

"Yes, you are the strongest. Humanity's hero."

Drake froze. He hadn't expected to hear recognition in this way.

He knew his future had changed the moment he chose to fight. He had changed so much that he could barely remember what he was like. Had he always been as detestable as he was now?

He knew that no matter how many dungeons he closed, people would always be more wary of him than they were grateful. He knew he was inching closer and closer to becoming a monster. Maybe one day, he would lose control of his rage, lose control of his strength, and become the very creature his comrades would have to point their blades at.

His pride, everything he cared about—it would all be lost. He had been afraid. Afraid of seeing those disappointed gazes. So, he chose to keep everyone at a distance. He decided to be as unlikeable as possible. That way, when the time came, his comrades wouldn't have to feel guilt or sorrow when they struck him down.

But now, a god had called him a hero. It wasn't praise—it was simply a statement of fact, as if Prophet acknowledged the truth.

"From today onward, the strongest will no longer be alone."

Drake's eyes widened slightly, his pupils trembling. Countless thoughts swirled in his mind, but he forcefully suppressed them all, putting on a scowl instead.

"Tch, what a pain. I like being alone. A weakling like you better not get in my way!"

Prophet responded, "Alright, take the monster with you and keep moving. You'll be out of the fog soon."

Drake scoffed, looking irritated, but his body followed Prophet's instructions.

He led one of the surviving monsters and walked forward at a steady pace. Along the way, no other monsters dared to bother him.

[I thought Drake was going to be stuck there forever. Prophet lives up to his name.]

[Now that you mention it, these two are the perfect team—one does all the fighting, and the other thinks. Flawless!]

[I think Prophet chose to pick Drake as his believer. Maybe he sees Drake's potential.]

[At the very least, he's the only one who doesn't seem to despise Drake, even though Drake's attitude is absolute garbage…]

[Why do I suddenly feel like Drake doesn't deserve to summon Prophet?]

[I'm crying… Someone finally acknowledges Drake as a hero! He is a hero! Aside from his horrible personality, he hasn't even harmed a single human. Every dungeon he's been in, he's been the one to charge forward and lead humanity to safety!]

[I remember when Drake first appeared—he was this tall, tough-looking guy, but super shy… Oh, those were the days…]

Silvanus: "…"

He couldn't help but try to picture a shy, timid Drake… He failed. His eyes stung slightly.

By now, Drake had reached the center of the garden. From here, he could see the busy figure of the gardener.

Raising his blade, he cut the monster in half before heading toward the gardener. The poor guide monster didn't even receive a word of thanks.

Hearing footsteps, the gardener turned around, startled. She was a young woman, exhaustion and sorrow written all over her face upon seeing Drake, her eyes filled with wariness.

Drake raised an eyebrow. This woman felt completely human—no trace of a monster's presence. But how could that be…?

"Who are you? Why are you in the castle?" she asked coldly.

Drake delivered his rehearsed line. "I'm a detective from the capital, invited by the Count to investigate some strange occurrences in the castle."

The moment he finished speaking, the woman's expression shifted to alarm. She hurriedly said, "You'd best leave now. You won't find anything. Get out while you still can—unless you want to die!"

"You know something, don't you?" Drake asked directly.

The woman furrowed her brows at him before letting out a weary sigh. "Believe me or not, what I'm saying is the truth. The Adonis Counts are cannibals, so they were exiled to this barren land! Ever since they arrived, children from our village have been vanishing one by one. I and several others took jobs in the castle to investigate."

As she spoke, her face grew increasingly filled with rage and fear.

She recounted how, after entering the castle, her companions had quit one by one for various reasons. Yet, she had never once seen them leave. It was as if they had disappeared when she wasn't looking.

One night, she heard the sound of a child crying. Despite her fear, she had followed the noise to the kitchen—where she witnessed the usually quiet chef butchering live children as if they were piglets.

The dull knife in his hand was far too sharp. Fresh blood sprayed across the kitchen. The children's whimpering cries and the chef's heavy breathing were the only sounds.

At last, she had discovered the truth behind the missing village children. And she had realized precisely what those meat dishes served on the table were made of.

She had nearly screamed. She almost threw up everything in her stomach.

"I was caught," she continued. "The Counts didn't kill me, but they made me the gardener instead. At first, I thought I still had a chance to escape. But I later realized—I've been trapped here all along. There is no way out.

Just like the corpses of my companions, I'll never leave this place."