The blurry picture, like the image projected by a TV with unstable signal, tore, expanded, and burst deep in the heart of this four-winged cherubim. The surging mental power was raging in the body, and the pain was so deep that every inch of the skin was burning and screaming.
The man without a trace of melanin on his body calmly looked at the twisted expression of Cherubim in front of him, his long silver-white hair flowing down from his hairline like starlight.
"I am your lord." The cold voice echoed among the flawless white walls, containing irresistible authority.
Cherubim, who had endured great pain on the ground and was twitching slightly in the afterglow, seemed to be forced by some strange force. His blue eyes were forced to meet those silver-white eyes, which were filled with bone-chilling coldness. There was no emotion or ripples, releasing a kind of bewitchment that made the other party unable to help but surrender.
…
What kind of "creature" is "God"? What happened to the boy who landed in the air?
As a Western fantasy writer with strong professional ethics, Lu Jiao naturally treats everything as if he has crawled into a mysterious Western fantasy novel...