They had indeed caught something.
Although the countless tentacles hadn't landed a hit, there was no point in continuing to keep his head down now that he'd been exposed.
Just as Fu Qian drew the tentacles back into his body, an apparition slowly materialized, right at the edge of the attack's range.
That's right. Not only did he look nothing like the Dragon King's fantastical form, he actually looked more human than Fu Qian did.
Blond, clean-shaven, and with no visible signs of age on the parts of his face that showed.
He wore a dazzling white robe. Aside from one hand gripping a golden scepter, the rest of his body was completely covered.
The white robe seemed to block all attempts at scrutiny. Even Fu Qian couldn't tell whether the other hand held a gun or something similar.
But that was far from the most distinctive feature. On that unmistakably human face, a delicate ribbon embroidered with gold covered the eyes.
Dabs of red seeped up from beneath it, soaking the ribbon. Blood continued to trickle down, forming a sorrowful expression.
And when your gaze followed the falling drops, you'd see that they gradually turned gold.
Then, looking back with that impression still fresh in your mind, his blond hair seemed to burn like blood-red flames.
This look seemed far more approachable than the Tyrant's.
It wasn't as if Fu Qian had chosen his own look, so he acknowledged the newcomer's superior appearance without a shred of embarrassment.
With that bearing and appearance, he could stand there without saying a word and still radiate boundless compassion, like a God mourning all living beings. The distinction between good and evil was immediately clear.
And although the pressure he exerted surpassed even the Dragon King's, Fu Qian could still tell