"At that moment, I understood that people call us supreme saint-level masters not because we are powerful. Instead, they look up to us and call us 'saints' because we far surpass people who are weaker than us. When we face existences stronger than us, we would also feel weak, desperate, and lose composure like an average person. The so-called saints are just a joke for ignorant people."
"Because we're still mortals and thus weak people."
Despair filled the battleground. Perhaps godly miracles would be sent from the supreme Gods' Peak on the continent and drive out these horrifying monsters, but it had nothing to do with these people now.
With shaky arms, Sword Saint Wilson put his weight on the sword and struggled up.
This man who had always looked aristocratically elegant was now disheveled with ugly wounds all over his body. "But we're the ultimate masters already…"
