The noise grew steadily louder in his ears. A sliver of light appeared ahead in the pitch-black tunnel, growing brighter and brighter until he stepped out into it.
Before him lay a vast arena. The ground was covered in fine, black-and-blue gravel, and the overhead glass dome failed to dampen the roar of the spectators. Waves of sound crashed down from the stands, and under the pressure of such an atmosphere, his blood could not help but simmer.
No matter how mild and gentle he appeared in his daily life, deep down, he remained the Demon God, a being of unrivaled malice. He chose kindness; he was not, however, forced to be kind.
Chapter 419