Gold

Rock looked at Tesoro.

Those eyes had just been struggling in despair, trampled into the mud, crushed by reality.

At this moment, they were burning.

Rock nodded slightly in his heart.

He had seen too many people collapse in desperate situations, and too many people bow their heads before humiliation.

Yet this boy before him, when beaten until his very bones were almost shattered, never lost the focus in his gaze.

This kind of thing was rarer than strength.

"You were beaten like that by the subordinates of the Celestial Dragons just now, yet you didn't bow your head."

"Your bones are hard enough, and your spirit is fierce enough."

He paused for a fraction of a second.

"You are not bad at all."

Tesoro gave a violent start, as if struck by something.

For a split second, he even doubted he had heard wrong.

To be recognized—recognized by such an entity standing at the very peak.

His chest felt as though something had been fiercely ignited.

Scorching.

Stinging.

Yet it made one lucid.

He subconsciously raised his head, his throat moving as if he wanted to say something.

He wanted to express gratitude, wanted to prove himself, but before the words could leave his mouth—

"Don't rush to be grateful."

Rock spoke first.

His tone was casual yet like a basin of cold water, pouring directly over the emotions that had just flared up in him.

"Sabaody is liberated today."

He turned his head slightly, his gaze sweeping over the opened iron cages in the distance.

"But what about you?"

His line of sight fell back onto Tesoro.

"You have no status."

"No strength."

"No backing."

"Today I am here, and you live."

His voice was very flat, yet it made hearts tighten.

"What about tomorrow when I am