Claiming that he could escape the punishments of the heavens was completely surreal. Formerly, he was a mortal, and his punishment was not as strong as his strength, as he possessed the power of a god in a mortal body. But at this moment, the situation was different.
"That's enough, Father," said an old man alone in the crowd, more than a mile away from any other god. His simple voice reached every being on that planet.
He was the personification of a wise old man. He used a wooden staff that exuded the purest embodiment of the laws of wood. His white beard flew in the wind perfectly, and he was bald only on the top of his head. Any god could change his appearance freely, and even if he didn't want to change his physical appearance, reaching this state of old age was completely absurd. It was clear, from the old man's aura, that all his characteristics came from the time he lived.
