The god's words made everyone present shudder. Only then did they realize the being before them was a true deity; the aura she unleashed was something no mortal could withstand.
All eyes fixed on the god in terror, afraid she might roast them all the moment she grew displeased.
"Divine... Divine Being..." The village chief, trembling with fear, took a cautious step forward and spoke with humbled deference.
"Please, calm your anger. We will immediately find you a second child..." he said carefully, trying to soothe the god.
"You have only half an hour. If you exceed that time, everyone dies here," the god said coldly.
"Yes, yes, yes! Enough—that's enough. We'll definitely bring back a second child within half an hour."
Seeing there was room to talk, the village chief nodded repeatedly, then led the others away at once.
This left only the second plan: have the boy placate the god while creating an opening.
Those hidden around them all held their breath, faces taut as they watched the god and the boy.
"Come here, little one," the god beckoned.
Startled, the boy hesitated, seemingly afraid to approach.
Whether it was genuine or feigned, no one could say.
"I won't eat you. Come closer," the god gave him a gentle smile, a far cry from her earlier fury.
The boy was momentarily dazed by the change, but he still edged forward with great caution.
"That's right, that's right. Slowly now. Don't be afraid," the god said with a cheerful wave.
"Come here!" As the boy drew near, her large hand suddenly darted out toward him.
He flinched, shifting slightly—only to be scooped up and pulled onto her.
"Look at you. Am I really that scary? You're as timid as a rabbit." Seeing the boy trembling, eyes squeezed shut, the god chuckled and teased him.
Now she seemed more like a kindly girl next door.
The pain he expected never came. Puzzled, the boy cracked his eyes open just a sliver.
After seemingly confirming it was safe, he slowly opened them fully. The god was smiling at him, watching like he was some small animal.
"Don't... don't eat me," the boy said fearfully, his voice shaking.
He was eight years old—how could he not fear death?
"I won't eat you. What's so tasty about you?"
"You won't eat me...?" the boy asked, confused.
"Do you want me to eat you?" The god narrowed her eyes slightly, amusement flickering there as she looked at him.
"No, no, no..." He shook his head like a rattle.
This was nothing like what he'd imagined. Not only him—even the villagers lying in wait were stunned.
The god seemed like a completely different person, leaving the boy at a loss.
He'd planned to fight to the death, to seize any chance to stab with the dagger.
But the result was far from anything he'd pictured.
Sensing no malice, his resolve wavered. He looked at this beautiful, adorable god—whose smile even held a hint of gentleness—and felt lost.
He didn't know whether to strike. If he didn't, what should he do?
If he did, what if she was a benevolent immortal?
This wasn't a decision a child could make.
His previous plan was completely overturned, leaving him flustered and unsure.
"Why are you spacing out—scared silly?" the god asked, puzzled by his dazed look.
"Divine... Divine Being... you really... won't eat me?" he asked timidly, his neck shrinking back.
"Who told you I would eat you?"
The boy paused for a beat.
"Then... if you won't eat me, why did you capture us...?"
"To play. What else?"
"Play???" The god's reply left him dumbfounded.
"Of course. Children are wonderful—soft and tender, and so cute. Who would eat them? What are you humans thinking..."
Her words left everyone frozen where they stood.
Things seemed to be heading toward the worst, yet hadn't gone entirely that way. The terrifying god was, in truth, someone who adored human children.
"Then... how long will you play?" the boy pressed.
"How should I know? I'll stop when I get bored," the god shrugged.
"Get bored...?" The boy seized on the phrase, eyes widening in fear as he asked, "What happens when you get bored...?"
"You little brat, why so many questions? When I get bored, I'll toss you aside, of course. What else—eat you?" the god said, a bit puffed up with annoyance.
"Throw... throw... throw... throw it away!?" The boy was terrified.
He thought of the village children who sometimes caught little fish—how they played happily for a while, and when they got bored, they simply killed them.
At the thought, he began to tremble all over, staring at the god with a face full of horror.