Poseidon, the god of the sea, had a gleeful look on his face, which William didn't particularly dislike, but he felt it necessary to teach the young god a lesson—to show him that being a spectator isn't always as enjoyable as it seems.
The next moment, William and Poseidon found themselves in the vast, desolate cosmos, facing each other from a distance.
"Master, I was wrong," Poseidon said, a hint of panic in his voice.
Could it be? Was the master really angry?
William shook his head, "No! You're not wrong!"
"I really was wrong," Poseidon insisted, his face a picture of misery.
When others grasped the true power of the highest cosmic truths, they invariably experienced phenomena wrapped in thousands of holy lights, a scene of grandeur.
But for him, it seemed he was just about to get a beating.
Poseidon had no desire to fight William.
"Enough talk," William said. "Let me see what progress you've made."
