Huanhuan looked up and saw a winding staircase ahead. It stretched from in front of them to the top of the mountain.
It was at least a thousand meters high. If someone were to climb up, they would die of exhaustion halfway up the mountain.
Unexpectedly, Xue Hui said to her, "We're going to follow this path to the temple to meet the prophet. Then, under the prophet's lead, we'll head to the altar at the top of the mountain."
Huanhuan's mouth fell open in disbelief. "We're going that high up?!"
The sight of her stunned face was adorable. Unable to resist, Xue Hui reached out and pinched her cheek. "If you're tired, you can rest when we get to the temple."
"What about you?"
"All oracles and witch doctors must accompany the prophet to the top of the mountain for the sacrificial ceremony. I'm no exception."
"Okay."
