A hint of surprise flashed across the witch's aged and sagging face, seemingly not expecting Luo Wei to suddenly ask her this question.
"The God of the Dead," her tone was complex and heavy as she evaded the direct answer, "The fate of the undead lies in the hands of the God of the Dead."
As expected, she was a believer of the God of the Dead.
Before asking this question, Luo Wei was completely certain about her answer.
Because the witch had inadvertently said "By the God of the Dead" earlier, and mentioned that "only undead and dark creatures exist on Demon Island."
Those who frequently invoke the God of the Dead, if not His followers, at least fear His existence - just like those believers who must say "May the Sun and Moon Gods shine upon us" when meeting others.
And her second statement "only undead and dark creatures exist on Demon Island" included herself, which meant she wasn't alive at all, but rather an undead.
The undead, like the living, fear the God of the Dead, as they too believe He controls their souls, preventing them from ascending to heaven for eternal peace.
But who says fear cannot breed faith?
Just as ancient Chinese people would worship the God of Plague and River Gods, the more powerful forces that bring fear, the more they attract worship and awe, thus giving birth to another kind of faith born from terror.
People worship Him not to seek His blessing, but to beg Him not to descend in wrath.
Sometimes, faith born of fear is purer than faith born of love, though it may be rarer in number.
"I am a Blessed One of the God of the Dead," Luo Wei's delicate lips parted as she spoke in a clear and firm voice, "I came here following His divine oracle, to gather faith for Him."
"A Blessed One of the God of the Dead?" The elderly witch's expression shifted, her face growing more solemn, "How can you prove it?"
"Well, that depends on what proof you seek." Luo Wei rested her slender fingers on the cup, gently caressing it with her fingertips. Her dark eyes beneath the mask emanated a deep mysteriousness.
The upper half of her face was covered by a silver carved mask, revealing only her exquisite chin and rosy lips below, which when smiling gave off a natural charm.
Just as now, she smiled faintly, waiting leisurely for the witch's response, showing no sign of discomfort at being put on the spot.
The witch stared at her for a full ten seconds before her sharp gaze gradually softened: "Not a lie... If you are truly His Blessed One, you should bear His mark."
"Indeed I do," Luo Wei nodded.
"Show me," the witch fixed her eyes on her, "Show me and I'll fully believe you."
Luo Wei replied softly: "His mark is on my back, it's not very convenient to show."
"Interesting, interesting, you're a clever child," the witch suddenly laughed, wrinkles covering her entire face, "Very well, show me your mark, and I'll grant you one request."
"Any request?"
"Of course not, only one that I agree to."
Luo Wei thought for a moment, testing her: "Give me this island?"
"This island doesn't belong to me." The witch replied good-naturedly.
Then who does it belong to? Or does it belong to no one?
Luo Wei narrowed her eyes and probed again: "Help me take control of this island?"
"Haha, child, I cannot fulfill your request," the witch laughed out loud, tapping her cane on the ground beneath her feet, "This island belongs neither to humans, nor to the undead, nor to any ordinary creatures. If you truly want it, why not ask Him yourself?"
"If you receive His approval, all the undead on the island will be willing to follow your commands, including me."
The witch leaned forward, her gray eyes cloudy and yellowish: "Little liar, you didn't come here because of any divine oracle. You don't even know what this place is."
"Of course I do," Luo Wei replied calmly, "This is where I arrived following His guidance, though He didn't tell me what I'm supposed to do here."
The witch's face showed uncertainty again: "You truly came following His guidance."
Luo Wei nodded slightly.
"Well, well," the witch sighed repeatedly, "No need to show me your mark then. If you are His chosen one, you'll certainly be able to enter that place."
She stood up leaning on her cane, her decrepit body wrapped in coarse linen, seeming as if her bones would creak with every step she took.
"Come, little girl, follow me. The answers you seek are there."
Luo Wei stood up and followed her pace: "Where are we going?"
"You'll know when we get there."
Instead of heading to the door, the witch turned and walked toward the back wall of the wooden cabin. She lifted an animal fur hanging on the wall, revealing a small wooden door behind it.
She used her cane to undo the rope on the wooden door. As it opened, a long tunnel appeared behind it, its black opening clearly carved into a mountainside.
This small cabin was built against the mountain.
The witch lit a blue flame with dark magic and walked in holding her cane.
Luo Wei touched the magic wand in her sleeve, but the small stick gave her no sense of security at all.
She didn't know what level of magic this witch had achieved. If she was just a Junior Magic Swordsman, Luo Wei might have a fifty percent chance of escaping.
But as the old saying goes, how can you catch a tiger without entering its den? How can you know if you're a gambling god without taking a risk?
Luo Wei gripped her sleeve tightly and followed the witch into the tunnel.
The underground passage sloped downward, and there seemed to be some sound echoing from below. Layer upon layer of echoes emanated from deep within the tunnel, floating through the dry, spacious passage.
After walking for an unknown period, Luo Wei vaguely felt a wave of heat rushing up. Only when her palms were sweating did she realize it wasn't just her imagination.
This tunnel didn't seem to be man-made, but rather a natural lava tube.
Scorching magma had once flowed through these rock layers, and after cooling, formed a natural underground passage.
Just when Luo Wei could barely stand the heat anymore, the witch finally stopped and tapped her cane: "We're here. This door - only you can enter."
Under the blue firelight, a huge underground lava chamber appeared before her eyes.
Directly in front of where she stood, a black stone gate about ten meters high loomed over them. The patterns on the door were raised and intertwined, looking from afar like the roots of a giant tree reaching deep into the ground, firmly entangling the stone gate with its tendrils.
The roar of underground magma surging and churning could be heard from behind the door.
Luo Wei's right hand trembled slightly, and the base of the magic wand slid into her palm.
In such a place, would she still be alive after entering?
The witch seemed to hear her thoughts and suddenly spoke: "This is where the God of the Dead slumbers. Don't worry, He won't harm His only believer."
A thought flashed through Luo Wei's mind but disappeared too quickly for her to grasp it.
The witch walked to the door and stroked the patterns on it with her withered hand: "This door - I've guarded it for a thousand years."
Luo Wei studied the patterns on the door, feeling they looked somewhat familiar. Wait, wasn't this just an enlarged version of the totem on her back?
This really was the God of the Dead's place!
Luo Wei looked at the witch puzzledly: "Did the God of the Dead ask you to guard this place?"
"Ah, that was a thousand years ago. I wasn't like this back then..." the witch stopped mid-sentence, turned around and beckoned to her, "Come, place your hand on the door. If you're His chosen one, the door will surely open."
Well, I might disappoint you then, since everything I said was made up, Luo Wei thought to herself.
But it wouldn't hurt to try, after all, she had never received any divine oracle, so she definitely wasn't the "chosen one" the witch spoke of.
After the witch discovered she couldn't open this door, she would just say the witch had misunderstood her meaning, that she was just here to gather faith on the island.
Thinking this, Luo Wei stepped forward and placed her left hand on the stone door.
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