The six spellbeasts, which appeared tiny and insignificant at first glance, were now trembling as they gazed upward at Owen, who descended from the skies. The pressure radiating from his body was like mercury falling onto stone—dense, oppressive, and unstoppable. The weight crushed down on the spellbeasts' bodies, making their bones crackle like roasting beans.
These were spellbeasts born and raised by nature, and by their very essence, they carried an innate reverence for divine beings. And now, as they looked up at Owen, a single realization welled up in their minds at the same time—
The one before us is undoubtedly a god.
"You can sense the divine aura of this god," Owen said calmly as his gaze swept across them. "Then, are you willing to serve beneath me?"
