Annans voice was childish and light, reminiscent of wind chimes made of ice.
But the Corrupted merely felt a chill wind penetrating his body. The blood-stained red robe he wore, its bloodstains gradually drying up.
"…No one can be omnipotent."
The Corrupted took a deep breath.
Only today did he truly realize and face Annan Winter as an enemy.
…He had thought he had already taken him seriously enough.
The Corrupted even saw Annan as a "divine entity of inevitable future," an existence on the same level as himself, an eagle whose wings had not yet flourished.
But only today did the Corrupted realize… he had tried to overestimate Annan, but still, he had underestimated him.
Today, he truly felt an intense oppressive force emanating from Annan — it was not merely the degree of "encountering difficulties," but a near despairing sense of fear.
Centuries had passed.
The Corrupted had never thought… that even after becoming a god, he would still feel fear.
