Wait, How Did My Digital Girlfriend Become a Sword Immortal? Chapter 933: Why Didn't You Dodge a Little?

…

Boom boom boom—!

The tremors drew closer and closer.

Here it comes!

He really came!

At the very top of the Divine Mountain.

On the Flame Throne, Prometheus had already adjusted his sitting posture for the ninth time.

He tilted slightly to the left, feeling this angle lacked dignity.

He shifted to the right and thought it looked too severe, liable to frighten people.

Standing was too oppressive.

Prone looked too sinister—after all, was he not an evil god?

In the end, he chose to sit cross-legged.

Perfect.

Like this, he looked both like an ancient deity awaiting worshippers and like an easygoing, benevolent older brother.

He even rubbed out a background for himself—

Not terrifying blazing infernos, but a warm, sunlike halo that made him feel sacred and approachable.

"Hmm." Prometheus nodded in satisfaction.

Once someone arrived, he would immediately stand, spread his arms, and with the loudest, kindest voice proclaim:

"Welcome, chosen child! I have awaited you long! Come, receive my god—"

"Ahhhhhhhh—!"

A series of screams interrupted the Fire God's thought.

Prometheus lifted his head and looked toward the mountain path.

His eyes widened bit by bit.

At the end of the mountain path, a spark appeared.

No— not just a spark.

A cluster!

A cluster moving at high speed, wrapped in an earth-torching whirlwind.

Inside the tornado flashed molten-fire light, as if a meteor was rolling along the ground.

The fiery whirlwind spun madly around that meteor, flinging rocks into the sky; the air was filled with ear-splitting sonic booms.

No.

Prometheus rubbed his eyes.

It wasn't "rolling."

It was "flying."

That meteor—it had taken off!

Every dozen meters or so it would touch down on the mountain path, and then fly forward another twenty-odd meters—looking like a flaming ball bouncing along the ground. Are we sure this thing is the rolling stone from my trial?

Behind the rolling stone, that clear voice rose again:

"Ahhhhhhh—!!!"

Prometheus froze.

He had lived in the Divine Realm for who knew how many tens of thousands of years and had seen countless trialers push rolling stones.

Some pushed steadily, step by step.

Some stumbled awkwardly, pausing every few paces.

Some pushed until they cried, and while crying tumbled down the mountain.

But he had never—ever—seen anyone push a rolling stone into this state.

This is pushing a stone?

Could his divine trial be played with like this?

Prometheus swallowed.

He recalled how carefully he had adjusted his posture nine times.

He recalled the fire-background wall he had crafted.

He recalled the line he had prepared: "Welcome, chosen child."

Suddenly, he felt uneasy.

The direction that rolling stone was flying—

It seemed to be heading straight for him.

"Wa-wait—"

Prometheus sprang from his throne.

He raised his hand to say something.

But it was already too late.

That rolling stone, with the force to destroy heaven and earth, wrapped in flames that could roast a person, charged straight at him.

Behind the stone, a blurry figure was still desperately pushing, shouting as they pushed:

"Make way! Make way! Make way! Make way! Make way—!!!"

The voice grew nearer.

The rolling stone grew larger.

Prometheus's face grew paler.

He instinctively sidestepped half a step, after all this was only an avatar descending, it might not be able to withstand the blow.

But after dodging he felt it was wrong—he was a god!

A high-ranking god!!!

The lord of the Fire Divine Kingdom!

How could he dodge?

If he hid now, how would he face anyone later?

In that split second of hesitation,

the rolling stone was already upon him.

Boom—!!!

Flames detonated.

The mountain shook.

The Flame Throne was smashed and launched into the air, spun three times, then clanged back down.

As for Prometheus on the throne—

He was gone.

In his place, that enormous rolling stone rested dead center on the mountaintop.

Behind the stone, a dust-smudged girl poked her head out, blinking and looking around in confusion.

"Huh?" Li Qingran looked left and right, "The top? Is this it?"

She glanced around—standing on the summit, mountains shrank beneath her.

There was no higher peak.

So it must be the top.

Li Qingran gave the stone a push; it felt as if something was stuck under it.

She bent down and peered beneath the rolling stone.

It was a hand.

A trembling hand, struggling to pull itself out.

Above the hand was a section of a godly robe pressed tight.

Above the robe, a face twisted out from the edge of the stone.

"Ah! A ghost!" Li Qingran cried and kicked that face, stomping seven or eight times, then bolted into Chen Huaian's arms to act cute: "Wah wah wah! Master, it was so scary! There was actually a face under the rock!"

Chen Huaian: "……"

This was the end point of the Fire God's trial.

Li Qingran's rolling stone had clearly struck someone.

Who would be waiting at the endpoint?

Perhaps a deity's representative, perhaps some fanatic responsible for the trial, like one of the old stone people.

But it could also be the deity himself.

For instance…

Beneath the stone was clearly an unknown being composed of condensed, pure godly essence.

Prometheus lay on his back, pinned by that rolling stone, unable to move.

He opened his mouth to speak.

But the pressure kept him from drawing breath; only a faint rasp escaped.

"...My—my—god—position—"

"Eh?" Li Qingran blinked, slipped out of Chen Huaian's embrace, and cautiously examined the face under the stone.

Red eyebrows, red beard, huge bald head.

It looked exactly like the Fire God the God of Death had described.

Then she looked at his magnificent godly robe and the Flame Throne that lay twisted nearby.

She finally realized.

"Ah!! I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry—!!!"

"I-I thought it was a speed bump..."

"Sigh, why didn't you dodge a little?"

She fumbled to push the rolling stone, but it clung to the Fire God and wouldn't budge.

Prometheus lay under the stone, listening to footsteps overhead and a string of "sorry"s, and fell into thought.

He had lived in the Divine Realm for who knew how many tens of thousands of years.

He had seen countless trialers.

He had seen those who begged him, worshipped him, knelt to him, cried to him.

But he had never—never—seen a trialer who, upon first meeting him, pinned him under a stone.

Nor had he ever seen a trialer who, after crushing him, only kept saying sorry.

What good was saying sorry!

If sorry worked, then why would the Divine Realm have so many rules?!

Golden Dragon King… is this the chosen child you spoke of?

Heh…

Although being struck was humiliating, the chosen child's strength was still worth acknowledging.

Prometheus gradually recovered his senses and rose from the ground.

The rolling stone was saturated with godly fire essence; because of the girl, that essence had condensed strongly into the stone.

As the Fire God, he was the source of those godly essences.

So.

When Prometheus stood, the rolling stone still clung to his giant body, looking like a huge tumor on his belly.

"Ahem ahem…"

Prometheus cleared his throat to cover his embarrassment, then opened his arms and proclaimed with gravity:

"Congratulations on passing the Fire God's first trial!

Traveler from afar, are you the chosen child? Come! Receive my fire—"

"Wrong!"

A voice cut in.

Prometheus turned.

Another rolling stone had stopped on the mountaintop.

A finger stuck out from behind that stone, and its owner smugly declared from behind the rock:

"I! Am the chosen child!"

…