The God of Enchantment stood atop the mountain, craning his neck to peer in the direction of the God of Blood.
This was an incarnation of another one of His saints.
He usually liked to roam around causing trouble, and there were originally three such incarnations, but now only two remain.
Staring at the distant sky, the vast Domain of Faith once belonging to the God of Blood was slowly collapsing and dissipating.
He felt a deep panic in His heart: "The God of Blood has clearly been taken down by that wild, powerful mortal. Am I next in line?"
He recalled that human's ruthless and brutal methods.
A chill ran down His spine, and His eyelids twitched incessantly.
How could there be such a powerful human?
It's almost like an Ancient Evil God.
"Maybe I'm the next target!" The more He thought, the more uneasy He became: "No, I can't just sit and wait for death; I must act!"
He looked to the north.
At that powerful human nation.
He felt like changing His mind once again.
