As a kingdom, they were utterly insignificant before an empire. Those imperial heirs all stood loftily above the rest, untouchable by mortals—how could he possibly invite an imperial heir to lift his son's bloodline curse?
And even an imperial heir only had a chance of lifting it; it was not guaranteed. To have better odds, the bloodline itself also had to be of the highest grade.
That meant requiring a top-tier Emperor Bloodline. That was simply impossible, because those who possessed such bloodlines were already among the most exalted people in the world, and the forces behind them could rank among the foremost powers in the world.
Before such terrifying figures, he might have to kneel and pay his respects upon meeting them. How could he possibly ask one to lift his son's curse?
Elephant God said nothing more, and his body slowly vanished into the sky.
A woman beside the Elephantfolk King thought of how her son would have to endure immense pain every day from now on, and how his children would suffer the same fate. Her heart aching, she began to weep.
The other Elephantfolk wore grave or sorrowful expressions. As citizens of the Elephantfolk Kingdom, they naturally did not wish for the young prince they respected and loved to meet such an end. Their hearts ached as well.
Yet even the Elephantfolk King had no way to lift the curse. What chance did they have? At this point, even praying to the gods was useless.
An elderly Elephantfolk knelt on the ground in grief, interlacing his fingers and pressing his palms together in prayer. "Great gods, great ancestors, please save our young prince! He is the future of our Elephantfolk Kingdom."
Hearing this, the others could not help kneeling as well. Like the old Elephantfolk, they