The entire world's populace is akin to a clan, walking the same sequence path, sharing the same power system. In other words, they are the children of that God, all kin to one another.
Unfortunately,
they had already rebelled.
"So, has the descendant of God been found?" the white-haired Priest asked hoarsely.
Everyone sank slightly, "Not yet."
The elder's fingers tapped lightly on the table surface, not speaking, but everyone felt a terrifyingly lethal murderous intent!
The air around them seemed to be getting compressed!
The legs of the entire metal table underwent a subtle deformation!
Despite being the strongest group of seven, they heard various stifled moans, their bodies as if under immense pressure, capillaries bursting all over!
Their faces had already turned pained!
Yet they did not dare to breathe heavily!
And the white-haired Priest's voice came through:
"Our worshiped God is grievously injured, frailly asleep in the depths."
