Never in his life had the God of Greed imagined that he would one day guide a god other than his lord.
Yet now he walked at the very front, his back bent lower than a shrimp, with a thumb-sized black Cursed Spirit clinging to the back of his neck.
The Cursed Spirit was like a living nail, its eight insect legs driven firmly into his divine core source. Whenever he summoned a trace of divine power to travel, those legs silently siphoned away half of it.
It did not hurt much, but the feeling that "the divine power I worked so hard to save is being sucked away mouthful by mouthful" was worse than being cut with a knife.
The God of Greed did not even dare grunt.
Behind him, the six Original Sin Gods, along with the unconscious God of Devastation, Zhou Weiqing, followed obediently in a line, like grasshoppers strung together.
The God of Pride hung his head. His chin, once always held high, nearly touched his chest now. The arrogance carved into his very bones had long since been crushed by Lu Ren himself.
He did not even dare raise his eyes toward the figure ahead, afraid that meeting those eyes would shatter his last scrap of dignity.
The God of Envy bit his lower lip hard, venom lurking in his eyes, yet he did not even dare lift his head for a furtive glance.
He feared that looking a second longer would alert that monster and bring him an even worse fate.
The God of Sloth no longer had the strength to complain. He was a god who would never sit if he could lie down, and now the Cursed Spirit had drained him until his steps were unsteady and his legs felt filled with