Ybur lifted his gaze again, noticing that the Awakened had not yet left.
This Pillar God, with just a glance, made the Lord of Forbidden Mysteries recoil — and in fact, he hadn't truly made a move.
The eyes of the Awakened overlooked all creations, and his gaze fell upon him as well.
Under that gaze, Ybur immediately felt pressure—not the kind that imposes might, nor the weight of substance, but a psychological pressure of responsibility, accompanied by a sense of inferiority when an impure spirit witnesses consummate perfection, compelling him to introspect.
"Ybur."
The voice of the Awakened reached his ears.
The voice wasn't loud, yet it carried a clarity, much like an ancient bronze bell in a snowy night tolling by itself.
"You have done well, but you cannot afford to slacken in the future."
Ybur was taken aback: "Faster?"
