Chapter 581: All the Evil of This World
The man’s body is as massive as a mountain.
As if sculpted by Hephaestus himself, it is a divine work of art.
His towering muscles are sharply defined.
Most astonishingly, every muscle fiber and every drop of blood flowing within his veins is filled with pure magical energy that could be called divine.
Just observing him for a few seconds is enough.
The subordinates accompanying Bazdilot are already moved to tears.
It is an exclamation of solemn and sacred things.
Transcending consciousness, their bodies seem disconnected from their minds, unable to move even if they wanted to flee.
"The one who decides that question isn’t me, but you, isn’t it? I have a question I want to ask you, great hero of Greece."
Bazdilot stares at the man.
He emanates an extremely strange and gloomy aura.
If the Heroic Spirit’s aura is described as sacred and majestic, then Bazdilot is like a demon immersed in a swamp.