"In the past, this place belonged to me. Back then, even my statue was made of silver."
Ai Qing, once the God of Wealth, pointed at the golden statue of the God of Wealth and reminisced. His clothes were ragged, and his former glory was gone.
"That must have been a wonderful age."
Yao Wan longed for the era when gods still existed.
Sixteen God Kings sat high upon their divine thrones, using the divine path to protect all living beings.
Now the gods were dead, and their followers, bereft of faith, were like walking corpses.
"Nonsense."
Ai Qing picked up an abandoned empty bottle and tucked it into his clothes.
The age of the old gods was coming to an end. Even he couldn't resist it.
The gods would eventually perish, and the divine path would eventually die out.
A new order had to be born in the hands of mortals!
