"So we're going to the top of the mountain, and for some damn reason, you can fly," Beowulf hissed, staring at the snow-capped mountains that stretched to the horizon.
"Apparently, I'm supposed to see the North Guardian at the fourth mountain, and this one should be it," Cristian replied, turning to Daemon.
"What?" The old man asked, scratching his head.
"Didn't you say you're a god? Take us to the top," Cristian asked.
"This is a law, and tampering with laws will tell the guardians that a god has broken a code," Daemon said, flapping his rags for clothes, which he refused to change.
It had been two weeks, and Cristian had regained his strength. His aim was to advance to Tier 4 and reunite with his mother.
"I knew this guy was lying. What god doesn't have proper clothes?" Beowulf scoffed.
