"We need to first consult on a treatment method, please wait for us," said Anthony.
The Great Speaker glanced at Ange and nodded, "You need to hurry, Bret can't hold on for long."
The Great Speaker had always known that Ange was the core of these wandering gods, but didn't expect it to be so crucial. Even the treatment required Ange's approval before Anthony dared to proceed. It seemed whether it could be cured depended on this God of Farming, not the Lord of Light.
They moved a bit away and huddled together. Anthony asked, "Sir, what is that thing? Are you confident in curing it?"
Ange took out a bottle of the Source of Water: "This, hey, little bugs, evolve, Insect Plague."
The others didn't understand, but Negris gasped when he comprehended: "You mean, the little bugs nurtured by the Source of Water? How small? So these little bugs gnawed them to such a state? My god, what kind of spooky bugs are these? Bret is a Mourning Skeleton, can bugs really chew through him?"
