Thinking of this, Bo Shuo's heart sank slightly.
If by any chance the Deity before him lost interest in him and stopped generating emotions toward him, Bo Shuo would have to face a very harsh reality.
He would likely die here, unable to withstand the mutation.
This feeling of entrusting one's life into someone else's hands did not feel good.
Though he did not know why His Excellency the Deity before him had taken an interest in him, at least outwardly he could not show cowardice, and at least he could not hand the initiative over to the other.
Bo Shuo did not act rashly, instead stopping a few paces away from the seat and calmly looking at the man.
The Deity's mimicry was naturally not ugly, with extremely handsome facial contours.
The most striking feature was His silver-white curly hair, cascading down to His ankles, with pale dark green tips.
The slender and tall frame was wrapped in a black robe, beneath which lay layers of black mist, constantly winding around His body and finally disappearing into the endless gloom behind.
This 'beauty' was not merely reflected in appearance, but was a concept engraved deep within the soul.
The very first moment you saw Him, you would feel that He was the embodiment of beauty.
Yet this was not a good thing, for 'He' before your eyes was silently tampering with your consciousness, your soul, and everything about you.
Then effortlessly branding you with His own imprint.
Perhaps because Bo Shuo lingered too long, Black Robe God slowly raised His eyes, His moonlight-like silver hair scattering from His shoulders, and His gilded pupils quietly gazing at him.
Won't you come over? He asked.
The voice was very faint, and even the question within the words was imperceptible.
The atmosphere