Sitting on the throne, Robert Kiliman showed a trace of melancholy and sadness.
He silently sighed, closed his eyes, and displayed unimaginable pain.
"Why the long face? Cheer up, you've managed to get up after ten thousand years of sleep, what else could be wrong?"
Duanmu Huai sat beside him, tasting Makulag's special pastries with a grin, while Kiliman responded with a bitter smile and shook his head.
"Ten millennia have passed, look at what they have become, and the same goes for us — blind faith, ignorance, suffering, decay. All in the name of a deity, ironically, this 'deity' has always despised the title."
"Sometimes it doesn't matter what you think, it's how others see you that counts. Perhaps you haven't realized that now, in the eyes of the Limit Warriors, you're no different from a deity."
Kiliman silently stood up, looking at the battle flags and paintings on the wall with a pained expression.
