No sooner had Wu Wang's 'halt' taken effect than the Gold God was poised to charge. However, several overwhelming divine presences suddenly appeared, and both Wu Wang and the Gold God found themselves wrapped in a layer of restraint—a constraint of Time. Should either of them move, they would fall into a trap set by the Dao of Time, their actions becoming unbearably slow.
The Head Manager's voice came from high above, "Slow."
The Gold God frowned, glanced upward with a contemptuous sneer, but chose not to say more.
Wu Wang did not even deign to look at the Head Manager. His eyes were fixed on the Gold God, calculating every possible path of attack the Gold God might take.
The Head Manager's figure descended slowly from the clouds. He was dressed in an ancient robe with wide sleeves, a five-foot Longsword hanging at his waist. His handsome, usually expressive and fair face, was now as cold as frost.
