Working Prophet

At dusk the next day, the slender jar Clara asked for was delivered. The inner wall was polished very smooth, and the outside was engraved with the divine pattern of the Silver Moon Church.

Then the little maid found an iron rod, which was about the same thickness as the inner diameter of the bottle mouth, and wrapped it with sheep intestines, which just filled the gap between the clay pot and the iron rod.

Clara tried poking the jar with the iron rod a few times to feel the feel.

Herodotus just stood aside, watching the little maid busy with cold eyes, making sure that she did not use any tricks in the process.

Ruby was on the side helping Clara.

When she was almost ready, the little maid took out a ball of white stuff from her pocket.

He was about to put it in the jar but was stopped by Herodotus.

"What's this?"

"Cotton." Clara said, "I took it out of a cotton coat."

Ruby also confirmed, "She and I took it apart together."

Herodotus brought the white thing to his eyes and looked at it carefully, twisted it to see if there was anything hidden inside, and then put it under his nose and smelled it.

He didn’t smell any strange smell, so he returned the ball of cotton to Clara and asked.

"What signs are you going to show me?"

"I will throw this ball of cotton at the bottom of the jar. Then you can communicate with the goddess and ask the doubts in your heart. If the goddess's answer is yes, the ball of cotton under the jar will burn. Otherwise, the cotton will not burn." It will burn.”

"combustion?"

"Yes, during this period I will not light a fire, nor will I go near any fire source."

"Then the cotton in the jar will burn on its own?" Herodotus asked again.

The little maid nodded, "I wonder if such a sign would satisfy High Priest Herodotus?"

Herodotus frowned. As the custodian, he kept the massive books of the Silver Moon Church. He spent most of his time reading when he had nothing to do. He was already one of the most knowledgeable in the world. man of.

However, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't figure out how to ignite the cotton at the bottom of the jar without fire.

This kind of thing is indeed enough to be called an oracle sent by the gods, so Herodotus also nodded slightly.

He personally threw the ball of cotton into the clay pot. "My first question is very simple." Herodotus then said, "I want to ask the goddess whether I am destined to lead Silver Moon. church."

Ruby's expression suddenly changed when she heard this question, because although Herodotus used a question, he actually already knew the answer and firmly believed in it.

In other words, Herodotus was not here to seek the answer to this question at all. He just wanted to see if the cotton in the clay pot would really burn, so as to determine whether Clara was deceiving him.

Ruby didn't know if the little maid was aware of this. With Herodotus present, she couldn't give Clara any hint.

Fortunately, the latter seemed to be quite calm at this time. Except for his right hand that was shaking slightly, he did not lose any composure. He also made a gesture of invitation to Herodotus, asking him to contact the goddess first.

Herodotus did not hesitate, he had already prepared the materials needed for the ceremony.

When night came, as soon as the silver moon appeared, Herodotus lit the pile of spices in the copper bowl, then sat cross-legged on the ground in the white smoke and began to pray quietly.

His pair of rectangular pupils were vaguely visible in the smoke, gradually losing focus and seeming to float to a very distant place.

Have you arrived at the Kingdom of God? Ruby didn't know, but it seemed that Herodotus' trip to the Kingdom of God was not going well, as his face remained expressionless.

But he still finished his prayer earnestly.

And just when he finished speaking the last word, Clara used all her strength to thrust the iron rod in her hand into the clay pot.

All the way to the end, the barrel was quickly drawn out again.

Before the little maid had time to look into the clay pot, Herodotus on the other side had already stood up and walked over.

He snatched the clay pot from Clara's hand and lowered his head to look inside.

Then the pupil shrank sharply!

On the other side, Ruby's heart was in her throat, waiting for Herodotus to announce the answer, but then she heard Herodotus say, "Search yourself."

Ruby responded, but before she could take a step, she heard Herodotus's voice again, "It's not you, Naima, go ahead."

After hearing this, Aunt Naima strode up to Clara, who was also very cooperative and had already raised her hands.

Aunt Naima searched very carefully, from head to toe, even between her fingernails, but no matter how many times she searched, she could not find anything suspicious.

There was no fire sickle, tinder, or gunpowder to be found. The little maid's body was extremely clean.

In the end, Aunt Naima could only shake her head at Herodotus, who frowned again.

After a moment, he spoke again, "Second question..."

"I'm sorry, I can only ask one question a day." Clara interrupted him, "Merlin said that gods don't like to be disturbed frequently, and you don't want to be disliked by Pissia."

"Then ask again tomorrow." After Herodotus finished speaking, he took another deep look at the little maid.

Turned around and went back to his room.

Ruby couldn't believe her eyes. After Herodotus left, she finally had the chance to get in front of the clay pot and saw that the ball of cotton inside had disappeared.

It was replaced by ashes left behind after burning.

Ruby was greatly shocked. She had been standing not far behind Clara and had a clear view of the whole process. The little maid had not done anything except stabbing the clay pot with an iron rod.

He had never been close to any source of fire. How did the ball of cotton in the clay pot burn?

Could it really be a sign sent by the gods?

But Ruby felt that even if this was a response from the gods, it should come from Saturday, not Picia, because Clara obviously knew that such a thing would happen.

Saturday...is it really that magical?

Ruby thought again of the stories Clara had told her. Before that, she had always been skeptical about the authenticity of these stories, but now she was beginning to waver.

Since Saturday can make the cotton in the clay pot burn by itself, then the moving images on the wall may also be real, and the magical bird that Clara is thinking about always disappears out of thin air and comes back with... The little frog holding a gift...

Ruby suddenly wanted to see the green fields with her own eyes, to see that magical land and the foreigner called the prophet.