The second day dawned.
Noen had barely slept a wink through the night, catching only a fitful half-slumber.
Fortunately, when he woke up the next day, he was still very clear-headed.
He rubbed his head and slowly walked to the plaza in front of the altar.
Noen looked up at the altar to see the druids, led by the Oak Sage, kneeling before the statue of the Curse God.
They recited prayers in unison, bowing in a manner that was both devout and respectful.
Noen stopped in his tracks, curiously listening to their chants.
"Oh honorable Curse, mysterious Yikabe,
we beseech you to curse us…
we implore you to show mercy in the curse.
We cannot live without your curse, we worship you day and night."
The repeated kneeling, the collective recitation of prayer, all were voicing nearly identical petitions.
Noen watched in astonishment.
What were they doing?
Praying for a curse?
He had just lifted the curse, so why were they praying for it once again?
Just as Noen was confounded,
