It was huge, standing at about six meters tall, and at first glance, it somewhat resembled a hairless old dog with a long snout edged with a thick, bushy beard.
But no ordinary old dog could float, nor was it covered in continuously wriggling lumps of flesh, and it certainly wouldn't curl up like an old man.
Beneath its slack skin, clusters of something roamed, emitting a faint green light through the old hide, appearing somewhat like pus-filled boils that made its body look grotesquely bloated.
Charles didn't feel in the slightest as though he was facing a god; although the creature was called a god, it was merely a self-proclaimed pseudo-god.
"Are you the wise Bogro?" Charles asked.
The Bogro hovering in mid-air moved its body slightly, as if Charles had awakened it.
It opened its droopy eyelids, and several purple eye stalks wriggled out. "Charles…"
Bogro's voice was deep and heavy, sounding like a man in his forties.
