Chapter 602 - 600: I Must Have Seen It Wrong

Chapter 602: Chapter 600: I Must Have Seen It Wrong

Just then, someone spoke up.

"No... We still have the Young Master."

"I saw it! That eye was afraid of the Princely Heir the whole time. It didn’t dare come down."

"That’s right, I saw it too. That eye was scared of our Princely Heir."

It was as if the crowd had finally snapped out of their stupor. That’s right. The earlier scene resurfaced in their minds. The small figure had faced the monsters, chatting and laughing without a hint of fear. He stood proudly, clad in red. What did such an air about him signify? It meant that this child was not afraid of those monsters in the slightest.

He was the son of the Warden of the North, their Young Master.

Just now, when that eye appeared in the sky, this Young Master had single-handedly intimidated the monster, scaring it into fleeing.

Everyone had heard the conversation between the eye in the sky and their Young Master. Something about being the strongest in the Cunmere Realm, someone named Everard, and having perished a thousand years ago, leaving only a wisp of a Primordial Spirit to come to this world. The words themselves were clear, but when put together, they couldn’t seem to make sense of it all. The only thing they understood was that this Young Master was no ordinary person.

To that malevolent eye, they were mere mortals, no different from ants. And from the conversation, they learned that a person like him had been protecting them—mere mortals—all this time.

The more they thought back on those words, the more shocked they became.

At that moment, a bold speculation formed in everyone’s mind: their Young Master might be a Celestial God descended to the mortal realm.

Perhaps it all clicked.

The crowd dropped to their knees in unison, kowtowing in Aaron Sinclair’s direction.

"The Princely Heir is a Celestial God who has descended to protect us mortals!"

"Thank you, Princely Heir!"

"Please continue to bless and protect us, Princely Heir!"

"Please bless and protect us, Immortal!"

Some began to press their palms together, bowing reverently.

"Young Master, please grant us your blessing!"

Another man, thinking of his wife who was due to give birth soon, blurted out, "Oh God, please bless my wife with a safe delivery!"

An old woman among them added piously.

"It’s a God descended to the mortal realm! Our Princely Heir is a God! Please, O God, help my son marry a gentle and virtuous wife this year, and bless my family with peace, health, and safety."

"Bless my sow so she has at least twelve piglets today!"

"Bless me so I can earn more money this year!"

...

All sorts of prayers asking the God for blessings floated directly into Aaron Sinclair’s ears. He sat there, completely numb, his jaw nearly hitting the floor. His hand, resting at his side, twitched stiffly.

Aaron Sinclair was silent. "..." He sat there, motionless. Staring at the scene before him, he opened his mouth, but the words wouldn’t come out. He had no idea what to say.

After a long moment, he managed to squeeze out a single word.

"Fuck..."

Unfortunately, his voice was drowned out by the chorus of prayers for his blessing.

Aaron Sinclair pressed a hand to his forehead, feeling a wave of exhaustion. He was still worried that thing might come back, yet these people were here, worshipping him.

’My head hurts... I’m suddenly getting a headache... What is even happening today?’

Still, watching these people worship him was just so awkward. More importantly, words like God, Immortal, and Celestial God... For some reason, he felt a strange aversion to them, as if he were stealing someone else’s job.

Thinking of this, he stood up.

Aaron Sinclair’s gaze swept over the kneeling crowd. He cleared his throat, found his voice, and finally spoke. "Everyone, please rise. I’m not any kind of God." He inexplicably disliked the word, feeling as though it were an insult to him.

The onlookers remained kneeling, each one of them looking at him with pious devotion.

Aaron Sinclair placed a hand over his heart.

’Why can’t I get through to them?’

"I’m really not. Please, believe me."

Unfortunately, no one believed him. In the eyes of the crowd, Aaron Sinclair was a Celestial God who had descended to the mortal realm, the one who had single-handedly fought off the monster to protect them. After all, the eye that had appeared in the sky before couldn’t have been fake.

At this thought, their expressions grew even more devout.

"We understand."

"You don’t have to say it, Young Master, we understand. Heavenly secrets must not be revealed."

"Right, right... We don’t know anything, and we won’t ask anything."

Before, they had been scared to death of that eye. But now, knowing a Celestial God was right here among them, they were no longer afraid.

A Celestial God descending to Terrus must have come with a mission to save all living beings.

The corner of Aaron Sinclair’s mouth twitched.

’Oh for heaven’s sake, you understand? What in the world do you possibly understand? I’m the one who’s still completely lost here!’

Meeting their clear, foolish eyes, he waved his hand in resignation and said, "Everyone, disperse! There’s nothing more to see here."

As he spoke, he turned to head home.

The crowd bowed in unison.

"We respectfully see you off, O God!"

Hearing this, Aaron Sinclair stopped dead in his tracks. "I’m not."

"We respectfully see you off, Young Master."

’Dammit... Ugh...’

He glanced at the crowd and sighed internally. ’Forget it. Maybe this will be enough to keep that eye away for a while longer.’

’But what do I do after that?’

’Father and Mother must have seen that eye, too. Mother must be terrified. I should go check on her first. She’s so gentle and kind she wouldn’t even step on an ant. I can’t imagine how traumatized she must be after seeing something so horrifying today.’

"Zephyr, we’re returning to the manor."

The guards who had been by his side the whole time were already dumbfounded. Just like the onlookers, they now looked at Aaron Sinclair with gazes full of shock and reverence. This was a Celestial God descended to the mortal realm—a real one. It wasn’t just some idle talk or a rumor; they had seen it with their own eyes.

Aaron Sinclair turned his head and saw Zephyr with his palms pressed together, muttering something under his breath.

"What are you doing?"

Zephyr looked at him.

"N-nothing."

’I was just secretly asking the Princely Heir for a blessing,’ he thought.

Aaron Sinclair shot them a glance, waved his hand dismissively, and left. As he turned his back, he muttered one last thing.

"I’ve really had it."

When Aaron Sinclair returned to The Prince’s Manor with his guards, he expected to find his mother pale and terrified. But as he stepped into the courtyard, he saw his father and mother roasting sweet potatoes. Their faces were wreathed in smiles, as if they hadn’t seen the thing in the sky at all.

He stopped mid-step.

’Wrong.’

’I must have walked in the wrong way.’

He backed out.

’Let’s try that again.’

He walked into the courtyard again and looked ahead. Nothing had changed. His father and mother were still roasting sweet potatoes. A charcoal brazier burned before them, and the sweet, soft aroma of the potatoes wafted toward him.

He was suddenly a little hungry.

Aaron Sinclair called out.

"Father, Mother, I’m back."

The pair roasting sweet potatoes in the courtyard glanced up at him. His father gave him a look that was not quite a smile and said, "Well, look who’s back."