Although he couldn't understand, the other party didn't seem to have that kind of direct hostility.
Realizing this, Mr. Blood Garment relaxed slightly.
"What kind of ruler are you?" Mr. Blood Garment recalled the wolves that appeared out of nowhere, "An existence?"
"I am merely a creator who does as he pleases." The middle-aged man took off his hat with a pleased expression, spun it on his finger, and then placed it back on his head.
No, communication was completely impossible.
Mr. Blood Garment felt the gap between himself and the other, a ruler's way of thinking that was utterly different from ordinary people. This was something he had long experienced.
But this deviation from the norm could vary, like the goddess he pursued, whose fondness for manipulating the fates of others deeply attracted him to dedicate himself to her, for that was the privilege of the strong.
But this ruler seemed to be after something he could not begin to comprehend.
