Odin hovered above the palace, looking down at the man below.
"Lin Qin Baruch," Odin said in a low voice. "I've heard of you."
Lin Qin did not answer. His gaze passed over Odin to look behind him. Dozens of figures were rapidly approaching through the palace's shadows. They were the God-level experts under Odin's command, packed together like a swarm of disturbed hornets.
"I heard you went to Hell," Odin continued, a cold sneer curling his lips. "And now you've come to make trouble in my palace?"
"Where's Cecil?" Lin Qin suddenly asked.
Odin's expression changed almost imperceptibly.
"I asked you," Lin Qin said, his voice quiet yet carrying a pressure that brooked no refusal, "where is Cecil?"
"You're looking for my son?" Odin sneered. "He's not here. Whatever you want, you can tell me instead."
Lin Qin nodded.
"Then there's no need to waste words."
He vanished from where he stood.
Odin's pupils contracted sharply, and he instinctively shot backward. But before he had retreated even ten meters, he felt a palm press against his back.
That pressure felt like an entire mountain range bearing down on him. Odin's flight was forcibly halted, and he was driven straight down from midair, crashing into the palace's stone floor and gouging out a pit several meters deep.
Shattered stone flew, and dust filled the air.
Dead silence fell over the scene.
The God-level experts who had just arrived stared in disbelief. His Majesty Odin—that Seven-Star Fiend, one of the Five Great Kings of the Gobada Plane Prison—had been slapped out of the sky?
The dust settled.
Lin Qin stood at the edge of the pit, looking down at Odin. Half of Odin's body was embedded in the rubble, and golden blood trickled from the corner of his mouth, but his