"What the hell are you doing!? Who are you trying to kill!?"
At that moment, a voice full of authority rose from the crowd. It came from a stern-faced man in his sixties, leaning heavily on a wooden staff. Though his back was bent, his voice carried unshakable force.
"Calm yourselves. He's a divine being. Ordinary folk like us can't possibly win. Even if we all attacked together, we'd only die together."
His words only enraged the man who had spoken earlier.
"Village Chief, then what do you suggest? That bastard wants us to hand over two children in exchange for Qing'er!" The burly man's fists tightened, his teeth bared in fury.
Thud!
The village chief lifted his staff and smacked it down on the man's head.
The man staggered back, clutching his head in pain, bewilderment spreading across his face.
"Don't lose your head. If they let you return, it means they want something from us. Qing'er won't be killed so quickly. Stay calm."
The village chief's steadiness quieted the crowd, his composure restoring order in an instant.
"Chief, let's try negotiating with that immortal. If she can talk, then she can be reasoned with. All we did was disturb her sleep—it's not such a grave offense. If we apologize properly, it should be fine."
Xiaorou, who trained under the same master as Qing'er, put forth her idea.
"I think Xiaorou's right. An immortal wouldn't be so petty as to kill just for being disturbed. She probably just wants to see our sincerity. If we each bring good food and wine to apologize, that should settle it."
Voices of agreement quickly followed.
As more people echoed the suggestion, support grew stronger.
When the proposal gained near-unanimous approval, the village chief nodded. "That's one way. Keep it in mind. Does anyone else have a better plan?"
Hearing this, the crowd fell silent again, each person sinking into thought, trying to think of other possibilities.
Better safe than sorry.
Morax and Elliot remained silent within the crowd.
Elliot had already told Morax—they must not interfere in human affairs. His divine aura was concealed, and no other god could sense them. To everyone else, they appeared as ordinary villagers.
If they chose to live as humans, they had to see it through to the end. Unless absolutely necessary, they could not reveal their true nature.
"What if—just what if—that god truly demands two children?" one cautious villager finally asked, voicing the thought no one wanted to admit.
It wasn't that they hadn't thought of it. They simply didn't dare to say it aloud.
Silence fell. Over a hundred people stood gathered, but it was quiet enough to hear a pin drop, the air heavy with suffocating tension.
If it came to that, there would be no way to bring Qing'er back.
Exchanging two for one was already a losing bargain—worse still when the two were children.
The hardest part was choosing: whose children would it be? What family would willingly sacrifice their own child for Qing'er?
"Immortals aren't invincible. If we find the right chance, we can kill them."
"The problem is, how do we create that chance? What if we fail? Who will take the blame? What if we anger the immortal further? There are still so many children in the village."
The risky suggestion was shot down almost immediately.
The weight of failure wasn't something anyone could bear.
If the god wasn't slain, the entire village could be wiped out.
Risking everyone's lives for Qing'er alone was clearly unreasonable.
But to simply abandon Qing'er?
No. No one wanted to see that.
People always want the best of both worlds, but life rarely offers such choices.
Everyone was trapped in the same dilemma. Faces showed anguish and struggle—no one wanted Qing'er to die, but no one dared shoulder the risk.
"Mommy, Mommy..."
In the oppressive stillness, a little boy's voice broke through, drawing all eyes to him.
He tugged at his mother's clothes, as though trying to speak.
"What is it, Xiaolong?" his mother asked, pained as she looked down at him.
"Mom, let me go." The boy's eyes were firm, filled with resolve.
"Go? Go where?"
"Let me go trade myself for Sister Qing'er."
The words struck the crowd like thunder.
Every face turned to him, stunned.
His mother's eyes widened, disbelief plain in her expression.
"What nonsense are you spouting? Children shouldn't talk like that! This isn't your place to speak!" Panic filled her voice at her son's words.
"Mom, please let me. I remember... Sister Qing'er's father drowned saving me. She cried so much back then. I felt awful... I've never forgiven myself."
"Sister Qing'er's father gave his life for mine. Now she's been taken—how can we just stand by and do nothing?"
He was only a child, but his words left every single person frozen in place.