As the ropes tightened around Arroyo's body, he couldn't help but think back to his life within that cold, grim, ancient clan of his. His father had been a remote and exalted figure. All of his father's descendants had to work hard to cultivate and fight for everything they wanted! Arroyo himself had started off as just one of many weak descendants, but he had carved out a path all his own through the corpses of the others and eventually became a master-class World God. He became his father's most cherished child! But even in his dreams, Arroyo's truest desire was to become a real member of the Aeonian race.
"I lost." Arroyo stared forwards.
The white-robed youth was standing in the air in front of him, his main sword still slung over his back. The youth produced a small golden gourd. Whoosh! A powerful sucking force was applied to Arroyo's body, and he wasn't able to fight back against it at all due to the ropes that were binding him.
