Kevin was slightly perplexed, but he quickly realized that the rainy season was approaching.
It is now the month of May, and the conclusion of the foggy season in the densely forested eastern region of Andorha signifies the impending arrival of the longest and largest rainy season on the entire continent. The transition between the pre-rainy season and the actual rainy season is only a matter of two or three days at most.
Due to their fear of water and disdain for humidity, sand ghosts are compelled to seek refuge in the western desert during this period. This innate vulnerability prevents them from completely dominating other races and claiming control over the entire continent.
This weakness is widely known, and Sand Ghost does not attempt to conceal it. With a slightly mocking smile, he states, "This bottle is sufficient for you to control. The rainy season lasts for four months, which is far too extensive for us to endure. It provides ample opportunities for us. I hope that upon our return to the mainland, we will witness that you have accomplished everything excellently and have not forgotten our agreement."
"How could that be?" He laughs with a sharp voice, rubbing his hands together. After considering for a moment, he proceeds, "Then let me make the first selection. Let me choose..."
He drags his tail along as he contemplates, rubbing the soles of his feet against the damp ground of the dungeon as if he is deliberating which unfortunate soul he should pick.
Kevin hears him take a couple of steps in one direction, and his excitement-induced heavy breathing almost brushes against the door of the cell. "What about the Golden Lion Kingdom?" he suggests.
He lightly taps the glass bottle with his fingers, seemingly pondering over the suggestion.
Perhaps unable to tolerate such an irritable demeanor, the sand ghost clicks his tongue and warns, "Hurry up but let me remind you beforehand that controlling this substance is not effortless. If you shake the bottle and tremble, all previous efforts will go to waste. You will be left kneeling in tears."
Upon hearing these words, the shrill voice appears somewhat more cautious. Taking two steps back and shifting his attention to the adjacent cell, he states, "Then, let's try it on someone from here first. I am a low-ranking priest of the Spirit Race, so it doesn't matter if it fails."
Kevin hears a faint rustling sound emanating from that direction, followed by a silence that seems to hold its breath.
Just as his neck begins to ache from its contorted position, a shrill voice suddenly whispers, "Get up!"
Kevin: "..." Are you truly so astonished because you have never witnessed someone standing up in eight hundred lifetimes?
Of course, he understands what Screech meant.
It is not a simple task to stand up. It seems that the contents of the bottle were used on the little priest of the Spirit Race, and the results were satisfactory.
"Is he conscious?" the shrill voice inquires.
Sand Ghost replies, "Indeed, otherwise how could I put on?"
They are imitating the real masters, much like the heavily armored cavalry from earlier.
After contemplating this in his mind, Kevin nearly comprehends the intentions of the Northern Emerald Country. If the contents of the bottle possess this effect, one could capture several individuals and take on the appearance of any race they wish to deal with. If they are soldiers, they can cause chaos within the army. If they are courtiers, they can get close to those in power. Capturing influential figures becomes significantly more convenient without any bloodshed required.
Where does this sorcery originate from? Kevin remains perplexed.
"Will you obey if you are conscious? Let him strangle the other one to death," the sharp voice suggests darkly.
Sand Ghost remarks, "The bottle is in your hands."
"Alright, let me try it—you, go and snap his neck," the sharp voice softens its tone, sounding eerie and malicious.
"Okay," a peculiar voice responds, presumably the overwhelmed spirit priest.
After a while, the sound of bones snapping resonates, and the high-pitched voice suppresses its excitement, exclaiming, "Excellent, excellent!"
Sand Ghost asks, "Now you understand the effect? Does it feel good to experience it yourself? There are numerous individuals within the dungeon, allowing you to do as you please. After completing my tasks, I should depart. The sky outside was already quite bad when I arrived."
As soon as these words are spoken, a whistling sound permeates the corridor, swiftly returning it to silence.