"Looks like even prophets make mistakes sometimes..."
At some point, Hao Jian had already recovered from the pain. He looked at the Prophet with a grin and couldn't help joking.
"Could this miscalculation be a blemish on your record as a prophet?"
Hearing this, the Prophet couldn't help but roll his eyes. "You're one to talk! With those screams of yours, I'm afraid people miles away heard you."
"You call yourself the God of Death, yet you don't talk about yourself? 'Healed wounds forget the pain' is a saying meant for people like you."
Though he hadn't personally experienced the pain, the fact that it reduced the rock-solid God of Death to such a state was enough to show that the pain was inhuman. Only someone much stronger than the God of Death could endure it. But in this world, who could possibly have strength several times greater than the God of Death?
No one even has strength fifty percent greater than the God of Death.
