The atmosphere was tense and silent.
Garuda was quiet and still, but everyone could feel the suffocating pressure he continuously emitted. His eyes were dark red, brewing with rage.
He was like a predator disturbed from its slumber, eyeing the rest as though they were insects—prey to be devoured.
After a few seconds, Garuda sighed and muttered lightly.
"Ha… It was my first mission of a hundred years, I never expected to be disgraced like this after coming out of hell…"
Hearing that, every participant felt the pressure thicken. If his appearance was not enough evidence, then his words certainly were.
"Hahahahahaha, most importantly… the reason I failed is because of a bunch of brats? A bunch. Of. Brats."
Garuda couldn't help but chuckle in disbelief over the situation. He had thought of the possibility of failure, but he never imagined it would come from mere brats.