The Prophet of the Downpour
That night of the chicken game, the miracle bestowed by the heavens was an undeniable response from the gods. And yet, I am still in prison. You might think nothing has changed, but there is one distinct difference. This time, I wasn't dragged here by force; I walked in on my own two feet.
The unknown stems from ignorance—and admiration is born of expectation. I am still the "mysterious stranger." My status has merely been upgraded from a black-haired cultist migrant worker. ...And that's as far as it goes.
Perhaps I didn't even need to subject myself to this ordeal. I was the being who had performed a miracle, and the Grand General seemed to have developed a subtle fondness for me after what happened. Even if I hadn't gone this far, he wouldn't have treated me carelessly.
But that wasn't enough. That night, not everyone in the high command accepted the miracle immediately. "We must monitor him until it rains again." When that cautious opinion leaked from within, I didn't miss my chance.
A 95% chance of rain. A guaranteed check. It was no different from a lottery ticket that had already won. By entering the prison, I wouldn't look like someone acting merely for his own safety, but rather a being of absolute sincerity. Thus, this was an opportunity to erase even the slightest shred of doubt. I made the first move and volunteered to go to prison. As a result, that display earned me the Grand General's trust.
Ever since I entered the prison, I strictly restrained my movements. I sat and did not stand, nor did I lie down. I didn't say a single word to the guards. The high command had undoubtedly planted eyes and ears here. The shroud of mystery surrounding me must not be stripped away.
"Prisoner. Food."
Screeech— Today's breakfast tray slid in. I drank only a tiny sip of water, just enough to wet my mouth, and then remained completely still. I was starving to death. Even now, I wanted to hide that piece of bread. I wanted to bury my face in it like a dog and gorge myself. My heart pounded frantically. But if asked whether that was worth trading my life for? My heated mind instantly cooled. Obviously not.
The moment the guard turned to leave, I timed it perfectly as always and pushed the bowl back. I continued my act of a transcendent religious figure, which I had maintained since the moment I arrived.
"Yamen."
Now seemingly accustomed to it, the guard reacted to the sound and picked up the tray from the floor. Today, instead of leaving immediately, he stared at the tray and hesitated slightly. It was as if he had something to say. However, he ultimately remained silent and turned around. The prison door shut. Hard iron bars. Perhaps because it was a hastily built temporary structure, there were no other prisoners inside besides me.
Until the rain fell, my task was simple. Killing time. Sitting blankly, I summoned the weather forecast AI in my head. This wasn't what it was meant for, but after hunger, the hardest things to endure were loneliness and boredom.
-Want to play word chain?
-You start.
-Envelope
-Equinox!
-Stop. Don't you know how to play word chain?
-...
-Tiger.
-Quartz.
Just as my head was starting to heat up with frustration, a cold sensation washed over me, cooling my brow. Water? I looked up, my gaze passing through the holes in the worn tent fabric to find dark storm clouds gathering. Rain was falling from the sky. I was saved. No further proof was needed. No more playing games with the AI, either. This single downpour. This was more than enough.
The guard carrying the food tray ran into his relief shift on his way out.
"Still didn't eat today, I see?"
"Seems like it. He just keeps uttering that strange word. 'Yamen'?"
"...Just how many meals has he skipped? Actually, speaking of which..."
The relief guard looked around cautiously before lowering his voice.
"Lately... there's been a rumor going around. When that prisoner stood on the judgment platform... didn't hail fall?"
"...I saw it too. But it was just a coincidence. Stop talking nonsense. I don't believe in such baseless rumors."
"Haha, alright, if you say so..."
Walking out of the tent, the guard sneered. Chosen by the heavens? A prophet? What a joke. To him, the man locked in that cell was nothing but a pretentious fraud. Nothing more, nothing less.
Working at the execution grounds, one encountered all walks of life. They ranged from the highborn to the lowest of the low. There were those who threatened him with their status, those who claimed to have hidden ancient treasures, and those who warned of divine retribution if they were killed. Not once had any of those claims turned out to be true. In the end, they were all the same. That day... the man's nonsense had simply happened to align with reality by pure chance.
But too bad... that was all over now. Rumor had it that one of the high-ranking officials was already pushing to put the execution back on the table. Why don't you pray to that god of yours? See if you can make it rain—
Tink! At the sharp sound echoing from the tray in his hands, the guard looked down. One side of the bread on the tray, which was as hard as a brick, had turned dark.
Tink! The sound rang out again. This time, he saw it clearly. A raindrop. He raised his head.
"It's rain."
In an instant, the thin drizzle turned into a heavy downpour, drenching the earth.
The man stared silently at the tray before hurling it to the ground. He bolted back toward the prison. The cynical sneer he had worn just moments ago was completely gone from his face.
"The Prophet! It's the Prophet! Release him immediately!"
At the man's frantic shouts, people sleeping in the surrounding barracks began to trickle out one by one. Soon, the commotion reached the Grand General's tent.
Squelch— The sound of hurried footsteps treading on wet ground. I stopped gulping down rainwater, quickly disheveled my hair, and struck a solemn pose once more. Drinking rainwater left no trace. The relief guard who had been watching over me had already rushed out, startled by the sound of the rain, likely to report it. Before long, the tent door burst open with a rough clatter. Several people poured inside. I peered up through the messy strands of my hair. A coincidence had happened twice. Now, even the high command could no longer dismiss it as mere 'coincidence.'
"Release the prisoner."
This time, not a single dissenting voice was raised. No one even dared to meet my eyes. Every single one of them looked at me as if beholding something beyond human comprehension. In their eyes, there was less 'fear' and far more 'expectation.' The mysterious prophet from the East. The image was now complete. All that remained was to deliver results.
Pitter-patter— Rain fell from the heavens. The armor of the Zenith Kingdom's soldiers crossing the river turned dark and slick with water.
"What is the meaning of this? There was no mention of rain. Could this... perhaps become a variable?"
At the Zenith Grand General's anxious query, the Heavenly Physician turned her horse around.
"That is impossible. An army that has done nothing but retreat has no strength left to split its forces for an ambush. If they were to attempt a surprise attack now... it would be no different from throwing away whatever meager chance of victory they had left."
She paused for a moment.
"Furthermore, to suggest they prepared for this rain in advance? Unless they possess the power of foresight, preparing for such a situation would have been utterly impossible from the start."
"...But what if there is a one-in-a-million chance?"
"A one-in-a-million chance..." She furrowed her brow at the Grand General's words and murmured softly, "If... just if, there truly is someone on the other side who predicted this rain and used it to make a move..."
"Then what?"
"...Then there is nothing we can do."
"Nothing we can do?! What on earth do you mean by that?!"
As he raised his voice at her irresponsible remark, the Heavenly Physician smiled faintly and pointed a finger upward.
"Such a being would already transcend the boundaries of mortal creatures. So, what else could we, mere insects, do... other than helplessly fall before them?"
She gazed into the empty air and said quietly, "So you may rest easy. Unless the Stars of the Empire themselves descend, predicting the weather is impossible. ...No, perhaps it would be impossible even if they did."
Realizing the hidden meaning behind her words, the Grand General smirked. "Bwahahaha!"
"Is that so? ...All troops, advance!"
Boom! Boom! Boom! The beating of drums announced the march. On the opposite side stood the soldiers of the Elium Kingdom, spears held high. Amidst the rising heat of the battlefield, the Grand General looked to his side. As the war dragged on and defeats piled up, many members of the high command had been replaced. Due to their lack of experience, every single one of them was already gripping their swords too tightly, their nervousness plain for all to see. It was a sigh-inducing sight.
In that regard, he looked at the man standing beside him. Strange attire and an unusual appearance. Yet, his breathing was the most composed of all. Faced with the endless march of enemy forces beginning to cross the river, even the Grand General felt his own breath falter slightly. But the man showed not the slightest hint of change. He stood completely motionless, his expression as calm and serene as it had been from the start.
"...What do you think of the timing?"
His tone had shifted unconsciously. The black-haired Easterner holding a fan smiled faintly at the question. Right now wouldn't be bad. But I can see the hourly rainfall forecast right before my eyes.
"If we collapse the riverbank now, the damage to them won't be significant."
He spoke while gazing at a specific spot, as if something were actually there. But to the Grand General, it was nothing but empty air.
"Just now, Lord Ifrit has revealed the perfect timing to me... Soon, rain will fall. A torrential downpour so massive and immense that it will completely swallow that river."
"This is a region suffering from a severe drought. No matter what, such rain is normally..."
"Have faith. For the Lord Ifrit whom I serve, nothing is impossible."
The exact moment the enemy soldiers finally crossed the river and reached the opposite bank. He quietly raised his hand.
"...It is here."
Just as the Grand General was about to speak, something cold struck his eye. He raised his hand to wipe his face. Rain. Before anyone had even noticed, the rain had grown far heavier than before.
"Now... the enemy will not be able to escape. The ground of the riverbank will turn to thick mud, binding their feet."
"Their armor will grow as heavy as a thousand pounds, crushing their resolve."
"And the spears and swords in their hands will lose their luster."
As if in direct communion with a god, a dry, detached prophecy flowed from his lips. Those who had mocked him just a few days ago now kept their mouths shut. A strange, magnetic charm emanated from him—an aura born of absolute certainty that no one dared to disrupt.
The meaningless word the man had been uttering for some time now penetrated their ears.
"Yamen."
Just a few days ago, it was a word whose meaning they couldn't even grasp. But not anymore. The response echoed from multiple voices simultaneously. They now knew that this word he so frequently uttered was a prayer of gratitude offered to the god he served.
"...Yamen."
"Yamen."
"Yamen..."
Shhhhhhh— Whoosh— Shhhhhhh—
Despite the rain, the enemy did not halt their crossing. The drums of march continued to beat. Both armies had already committed too deeply. If either side were to hastily withdraw their forces now, they would suffer catastrophic casualties. From this point on, it was a game of chicken. A battle of who would blink first.
About half of the main force of the hostile Zenith Kingdom was trapped in the river, and only a portion of them had barely managed to cross. Conversely, the Elium Kingdom's army held every possible geographical advantage. Yet, the tide of battle remained neck-and-neck. No, to be precise, the Elium Kingdom's forces were being pushed back, inch by inch.
In terms of elite status, equipment, and training—in every aspect other than terrain—the Zenith Kingdom's army was vastly superior to Elium's. If she truly was the future Heavenly Physician, she would look at the overall situation and judge: 'Given enough time, a crack will form.' And that would be her very first mistake.
The end of this game of chicken was already decided. And the one who would dictate that end—was none other than the Elium Kingdom.