Today was definitely a bad day for Archelon - Demon Bone.
Being a genuine Eighth Ring powerhouse and an assistant priest of the Undead Cult, he had been assigned to receive guests by the Master of Ceremonies.
And the so-called guests, well… Archelon - Demon Bone did not like them.
They were a group of executioners full of murderous intent, cold-hearted, and they always acted superior.
In particular, the leader refused his magic, preferring to run on foot to meet the Master of Ceremonies rather than ride on a magic carpet.
Archelon - Demon Bone flew rapidly a few meters above the ground, his gaze icy as he swept over the iron monstrosities trailing behind him.
These creatures, akin to Metal Skeletons, supposedly had considerable territories in Outer Space.
Archelon - Demon Bone couldn't understand.
How could a race that couldn't fly possibly establish themselves in Outer Space?
