Becoming a God Starts with Acting-Chapter 188: Unfamiliar Memories

Something wasn’t right—not right. What was this feeling? It was bizarre, almost unimaginable! What had just happened? His power—his power was in chaos. Was that truly his power?

A flood of thoughts swirled through Silvanus’s mind. Darkness enveloped everything around him. The chaotic stream of consciousness continued to surge, making it impossible for him to stay calm. He didn’t even know what had just occurred—why everything was so dark or where he was. He was Silvanus. Yes, he was Silvanus. And then what?

"Don’t worry, my lord. The first connection with your followers often brings about strange sensations. Sometimes, you won’t be able to control your power. But it’s alright—you will be the one to guide yourself."

A soft voice suddenly echoed, melodious like the most beautiful symphony ever heard.

"Huff... huff... huff!"

Silvanus heard his ragged breathing, and then a blinding light flashed before his eyes—so intense it hurt. It was a pure, beautiful light, unmarred by even the slightest impurity.

Suddenly, a shadow blocked the light before him.

He instinctively looked up—and saw someone with long golden hair. Their eyes were wrapped in a band of radiance, a brilliant halo gleaming above their head. Two pairs of wings lifted slightly to shield him from the harsh light.

Silvanus stared, eyes wide with confusion. This scene felt familiar—he’d seen it somewhere before.

He instinctively looked down at his hands—the hands of a young boy—barely twelve or thirteen by the look of them. freёnovelkiss-com

Something tickled his cheek. He suddenly remembered—ah, right, those were his small wings.

The angel before him seemed to notice Silvanus’s odd state. Looking at him with concern, he asked gently, "What’s wrong, my lord?"

Silvanus wanted to shake his head and say it was nothing. He also wanted to ask the angel’s name. But his body wasn’t under his control. Instead, he heard himself whine, "Being a god is exhausting! So many voices keep echoing in my head—it’s unbearable. It feels like my brain’s about to explode! Gabriel, take over for me!"

At that, Gabriel bowed his head slightly. Even though his eyes were covered, sadness was still visible. "I wish I could do that," he replied softly.

It pained him to see this young god burdened by the prayers of the mortal realm.

Silvanus watched as his younger self continued to pout and squirm until Gabriel had no choice but to coax him gently.

Heavens, was this him at that age? How childish! Silvanus thought to himself, exasperated.

But then a resonant voice echoed in his mind—like a call rising from the depths of the night:

"Saphen, Prophet! Hey!"

The sound stretched like a tolling bell, dragging him out of a dream.

"Don’t worry. When you grow up, you’ll be able to handle all this with just a wave of your hand..."

Gabriel’s gentle voice still lingered by his ear. His wings wrapped around Silvanus, warm and familiar.

But all Silvanus felt was that everything before his eyes was fading fast. A terrifying force was pulling him away from this place as if his soul was being stretched apart.

It was unbearable. Yet he had no chance to call for help, only to be swept into an endless vortex. Memories surged around him like a tide—flooding him, threatening to make his head explode, making it impossible to tell what was real and what was not.

"Prophet! Prophet!"

Suddenly, that familiar voice snapped him awake.

He gasped for breath, cold sweat dripping down his face. Opening wide eyes, he saw Drake’s figure darting through the darkness.

Silvanus could see him, but it seemed Drake couldn’t see Silvanus at all. He kept walking through the dense darkness with no end in sight, calling out the name Prophet, his face showing no trace of fear.

Silvanus couldn’t help but press his lips together slightly, his expression subtly complicated—perhaps touched or just surprised. He still remembered—right up until the very end, Drake had clung to him tightly, sacrificing himself to save all of humanity.

Of course, Silvanus had never actually intended to kill all of humanity. He’d just meant to scare them a little.

Even more noteworthy was that in that final moment, Silvanus had felt the sincerity in Drake’s heart. At that time, perhaps Drake was still thinking of the continent he had vowed to protect—but his heart had truly ached for his god, who was no longer entirely lucid.

That moment felt like some switch had been flipped—faith surged uncontrollably, and an unfamiliar sense of connection made it impossible for Silvanus to restrain his power.

Please. That had been the first time he’d ever faced such a force! He hadn’t even known he could possess that kind of power. It was terrifying!

In the end, it seemed he had pulled Drake into this dark void—and now, it was time for Drake to leave.

Just as Silvanus had that thought, a blinding gateway of light appeared behind Drake even before he could act.

Drake seemed to sense something. He stopped walking and turned to look at the portal. But instead of stepping through immediately, he gazed into the deep, engulfing darkness.

"You should leave this place," the Prophet’s voice suddenly rang out—distant and ancient in this space, almost unlike the Prophet’s usual tone.

Drake pressed his lips together, stubbornly replying, "What about you? Do you remember who your number one believer is now, you idiot?"

What a completely unqualified believer—daring to call his god an idiot. Silvanus genuinely found Drake hard to understand. If one were to say his faith wavered, it was powerful. But if one were to say it was firm, he still had the audacity to insult his god.

Silvanus said nothing. The blinding light swallowed Drake instantly, cutting off any further words and erasing him from the darkness.

At that moment, inside Silvanus’s temple—not only were the espers on duty present, but Frank and the other team members were also there.

"It’s been two days already. Is Silvanus planning not to show up? Has anything like this ever happened before?" Fiona spoke up with a hint of irritation.

Frank remained silent. His eyes were heavy. These new dungeons were a massive threat to humanity—especially this one. The number of casualties in a single incident had been greater.

Even if no one wanted to admit it, humanity might have faced an even more disastrous situation without the Prophet, though admittedly, the Prophet’s behavior toward the end had been terrifying enough to haunt them.

Even though Drake was dead, the government could only describe his passing with words like "the highest sacrifice" and "a necessary sacrifice."

The Prophet was dangerous. But they couldn’t do without him.

Ron glanced at Fiona. Her eyes were still red and slightly swollen—perhaps she was the one struggling most to accept Drake’s death. Ron could only sigh. There was nothing else he could say.

Just then, a loud shout rang out from outside:

"Captain Drake... Captain Drake! He’s alive!"

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