Sou Long stood with a solemn expression. The sky changed in his anger: they became gloomy. Zëäl watched in awe and surprise.
"Don't you want to know who you are?" Sou Long spoke casually, but it looked as though his voice resonated with the entire estate. No, it was right to say that the heavens reproduced his voice.
"What do you want, Master? I never agreed to anything!" Zëäl spoke out; however, he precisely felt angered by his powerlessness. He also believed that the heavenly body would probably bleed before he could get to the level of the old thing. So if the cloud didn't bleed, he had no hope of reaching that level. At this moment, the pressure he felt was like no other; cold sweat joggled over his body. He couldn't even employ his elemental power. It wasn't as though Zeal hadn't tried to, but it was ineffective. But just when he was about to kneel, Sou Long sighed and let go. Zëäl was, after all—