Son of a Celestial

"Cough..." Star-Lord looked a little embarrassed. "Well... I taught myself. I just danced however I felt whenever I heard music."

"Hmm..." The Supreme Lady nodded. "It seems Mr. Star-Lord has a great talent for dancing. I wish to designate today as Victory Day and make this dance the official celebration dance. Would Mr. Star-Lord allow it?"

That left Star-Lord completely bewildered. "Was I really that good?"

When they praised him earlier, Star-Lord had taken it as mere politeness.

But elevating that dance to an official celebration dance was far beyond simple courtesy. Could he really have danced that well?

Not only Star-Lord, but Apocalypse and the other Guardians of the Galaxy were also confused.

Could Xandarians' sense of aesthetics really differ that greatly from theirs?

The Supreme Lady said, "Naturally!"

"Hahaha, of course you can."

Star-Lord was overjoyed, feeling that his worth in life had finally been recognized.

And it was recognition from an entire planet. That made him even happier than the reward of one billion star credits.

Apocalypse sighed inwardly. When Earthlings came to Xandar in the future and saw these bizarre ancient dance moves treated as high art here, what would they think?

Star-Lord had left Earth in the 1980s, and on top of that, he had just been dancing wildly on his own.

Any normal Earthling would have found it unbearably awkward to watch, especially War Machine.

"By the way, I heard Mr. Tang say that you are one of his people. Could it be that you are also a member of the God Race?"

"Me?" Star-Lord froze for a moment. "We are of the same race, but I'm an ordinary person, not a member of the God Race."

"Oh?"

The Supreme Lady and the others were puzzled and unable to make sense of it, so