Before those Muggle leaders could recover from their fear, their perspective shifted, returning to the ground.
The area where "My Lord" had stood had not received Wizet's magical protection and had now become a massive crater.
Wizet and the other figures floated above the crater. Even "My Lord" was no exception.
The bones covering "My Lord" had vanished completely. He now resembled Odin and the other figures, no longer clad in any so-called armor.
His head hung low, and the light had nearly vanished from his eyes.
Not only that, his figure had become extremely translucent, as though he might fade away at any moment.
The fear in the Muggle leaders' hearts deepened further as they saw that "My Lord" had yet to disappear.
They had not expected that not only had Wizet remained completely unharmed, but even "My Lord" had not perished in the nuclear explosion.
This sent an even deeper chill through them. Faced with such a situation, they truly could not think of any way to respond.
Looking at "My Lord," who had almost become a phantom, Wizet could not help but laugh. "Mr. Mictlantecuhtli, perhaps you could try putting a little more effort into it."
"Is this sort of disguise really necessary?" His tone was teasing. "You should know... I can peer into your soul."
"Your soul is filled with fear, resentment, and a trace of... cunning still plotting how to turn things around. Though your appearance is pretending to be weak, your soul is remarkably honest."
"Besides..." He turned to look at the surrounding figures. "They're all here! They can see through your disguise as well, so try to retain a little dignity!"
The figures, Odin included, could not help but sigh when they saw "My Lord" stooping to such lengths just to stay alive.