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Whether he was willing made no difference.
The Son of Chaos, wearing George Augustus III's skin, rolled his eyes. However, he was currently in his Mythical Creature Form, a vast mass of black shadows coiled over the ruins, and no one could decipher a Mythical Creature's eye roll.
He looked down at the human before him. After being shut in here for so long, even the sight of an unremarkable human felt a little nostalgic.
Although the humans outside who had become his believers still prayed to him occasionally to report on the situation, and the Son of Chaos could occasionally respond from inside the mausoleum, barely maintaining contact, losing his freedom still felt terrible. This was despite his constant attempts to console himself: "Getting out of the lamp and no longer being the Genie counts as a success. Recovering the Black Emperor Pathway was already an unexpected bonus."
When this human began rambling about events outside, the Son of Chaos began wondering whether Earth was somewhere he could stay at all.
After all, in his divine life thus far, the Son of Chaos had truly never experienced repeatedly going to prison and getting out again.
It was not as though he had never suffered defeat before, but even defeat had only meant some losses, rather than a major incident threatening his divine life and freedom. If his opponent was someone like the Calamity of Destruction, who came specifically to wreak havoc, that was ordinary damage; if they wanted to fight over territory, that merely meant losing control of a region of the universe. Even encountering a god hostile toward him who craved believers and followers would, at most, mean losing cities of believers on a few planets or in a few star systems, rather than being beaten to