The elder of the Transparent Race leaned against a stone pillar, his face filled with dejection.
"I can't believe we were saved by this weird thing," a soldier said, looking down at the Sheep-headed Man with a helpless expression.
From everyone's perspective, it was this Sheep-headed Man who had worn down and killed the Prophet of a Hundred Phases.
The Sheep-headed Man was still fiddling with its rack and bleating nonstop. No one had any idea what it was doing.
"You will be punished by the Goddess!" the chief wailed in agony from his place on the rack.
The Sheep-headed Man ignored him, simply lifting the rack and starting to wander randomly around the Temple.
It carried the rack and circled the Block floating in the air. Every few steps, it would jam the rack into the ground.
It was as if it were performing some kind of ritual.
Having escaped the grafting of the Prophet of a Hundred Phases, the Sheep-headed Man was more energetic than ever.
