Chapter 6: Let Us Welcome Them to the Stage for Their Speech

To be honest, the meat at this roasted meat banquet was quite good.

From sixth-level magical beasts down to first-level ones, everything was available.

An Xia had even eaten some roasted meat that was likely from endangered magical beasts.

But since they were already here, they might as well eat and drink their fill.

At most, he had slipped out midway under the pretense of going to the restroom, found the distress signal flares installed along every street, fired one into the sky, and then calmly returned to the banquet as if nothing had happened.

“What did you go out for?”

Melva, eating her roasted meat in small, elegant bites like a proper lady, turned her head and asked An Xia.

“Oh, nothing. I just did something right,” An Xia replied.

“???”

Anders, who was wolfing down food beside them, looked confused, but he did not think much of it and returned to devouring his meal like a bottomless pit.

After all, being socially anxious did not mean one could not eat in front of a crowd.

Sometimes, An Xia wondered if Anders ate so much that his family had decided to send him to the magic academy instead of letting him continue to bankrupt them at home.

As the banquet reached its midpoint, most people began to slow down their eating.

It seemed as though they were waiting for something.

In a room next to the banquet hall, an old man and a young man were staying inside.

The old man was the very person who had given An Xia and the others their banquet tickets.

He was now dressed in a light brown robe, with a cicada mark imprinted on his forehead.

The young man stood beside him, applying makeup to enhance his imposing presence.

The makeup was nearly finished. After adding the final touch, the young man nodded and said, “Sir, it is done.”

“What did you say?” The old man turned his head, confusion in his eyes.

The young man sighed, took a deep breath, filled his lungs with air, and then shouted at the top of his voice, “I said, Sir, it is done!”

Only then did the old man nod slightly. He patted his ears and said, “If it is done, then speak louder. Who can hear you if you speak so softly?”

“...”

The young man was speechless.

Just a few hours ago, the old man’s hearing had been perfectly normal.

But ever since he had gone out before the banquet began to recruit a few more new followers, he had returned as deaf as a stone.

No one knew which heartless bastard had done this.

Had they no respect for the elderly?

To treat such an old man so ruthlessly!

Outside, Anders swallowed the last bite of roasted meat and suddenly yawned.

He lifted his head blankly.

Could it be that the cold air in the carriage had given him a cold?

That did not make sense.

He had never heard of a constant-temperature magic array causing someone to catch a cold.

“Maybe some girl who likes you is thinking about you,” An Xia said casually from the side.

Anders’s face immediately flushed red.

He sneakily glanced at Melva, then looked at a few of the more attractive women among the banquet attendees.

Seeing this, An Xia raised an eyebrow.

So it was not that you liked Melva’s type—you just liked anyone who was pretty.

Just as An Xia was about to cut another piece of roasted meat, everyone at the banquet—except the three of them—suddenly stopped moving.

They all turned in unison, their expressions solemn as they looked in one direction.

Instinctively, An Xia followed their gaze.

A robed old man in brown had appeared there at some unknown moment.

Looking closely, it was the same old man who had given them the tickets.

At the front of the crowd, a circular open space had been cleared.

Then someone used earth magic, causing that patch of ground to rise half a meter into the air, making the old man stand out above the rest.

“What is this?”

Melva poked An Xia with her slender, fair finger.

An Xia shook his head in confusion.

“No idea. None of the roasted meat banquets I have attended before had anything like this.”

Suddenly, An Xia noticed the cicada mark on the old man’s forehead.

Just a few hours ago, when they had met him, it had not been there.

He then observed the other attendees and discovered that every single one of them bore the same mark somewhere on their faces.

Melva had clearly noticed it as well, and even Anders had caught on.

“Did we accidentally wander into somewhere we should not have come?” Anders said, his voice trembling.

“Then why did you eat so much?” An Xia retorted.

“How was I supposed to know earlier...”

“You two, stop arguing,” Melva interrupted. She lowered her head, and An Xia and Anders hurriedly followed suit.

It was because the old man’s gaze had already fallen upon them. After watching them for a long moment, he slowly looked away.

An Xia then heard a creaking sound behind him—the exit door had been shut.

“Good evening, everyone,” the old man said with a benevolent smile.

The crowd below erupted in fervent cheers. “Good evening, Sir!”

“Today marks our annual church banquet of the July Church. To this end, I have specially prepared abundant food. I hope everyone has enjoyed the meal.”

The old man swept his gaze across the crowd and nodded in satisfaction. “Our church has gained many new members. I presume that over the past year, all of you have worked diligently in spreading the faith. Although the city guards are constantly searching for our traces, we are cicadas living underground—how could those hyenas basking in the sunlight ever find us?”

The crowd shouted in unison, “May the Cicada Master live forever!”

The old man looked even more pleased.

Anders turned to An Xia in terror, while Melva’s eyes burned with anger.

An Xia scratched his head and gave an awkward smile.

This really was not intentional.

Who would have thought this place was actually the headquarters of a secret cult?

Aside from the orthodox churches in this world, there also existed secret cults that worshipped twelve deities known as the Si Chen.

They named their churches after the months.

For example, the July Church before them was known externally as the Secret Cult · Cicada, worshipping one of the Twelve Si Chen—the July Cicada Master.

Because followers of the Si Chen rarely met a good end, secret cults were hardly different from heretical cults.

At best, when both existed, the city guards would deal with the heretical cults first before turning their attention to the secret cults.

The old man continued, “Before the banquet, I went out once more and recruited three new followers of the Cicada Master. Now, let us welcome our three new companions with our warmest applause!”

He raised his hand and pointed at An Xia and the other two.

In an instant, everyone turned toward them. Dozens of gazes fell upon them, followed by a thunderous wave of applause.

In such a situation, the three of them could not pretend to be dead.

They forced smiles onto their faces.

An Xia was pushed to the front, with Melva and Anders standing behind him.

Anders had gone completely stiff, like a wooden puppet.

Melva responded with the graceful smile of a noble lady, while secretly pinching An Xia’s waist with her delicate hand.

Cold sweat streamed down An Xia’s forehead as he struggled to suppress the scream rising in his throat.

“Now, let us welcome them to the stage to deliver their initiation speeches,” the old man said as he stepped aside. A staircase connected to the raised platform, allowing him to walk down.

“What do we do?” Anders whispered, so nervous and frightened that he could barely breathe.

“You go first!” Melva hissed through clenched teeth into An Xia’s ear.

“What else can we do? We are doomed!”

Grinding his teeth, An Xia stepped onto the platform first.

Facing the dense crowd of cultists, he could not help but swallow.

His heart pounded violently in his chest like a war drum, as if it might burst out of his throat at any moment.