He Ao stared closely at the illusory figure in the sky. He tried to open his mouth to speak, only to find it pressed shut by some invisible force, incapable of opening.
After a brief pause, he attempted to gather all of his chaotic power, channeling it toward his lips. The force churned everything surrounding him as blood seeped from the corners of his mouth, finally prying open a small gap in the invisible pressure.
He slowly opened his mouth, his hoarse and fragile voice resonating in the silent night, "And what about you? You've received these 'graces,' been so favored by the Divine Being—what was your price?"
"This has nothing to do with the price, child."
The radiant figure silently gazed at He Ao, whose body was almost entirely covered in bloodstains and scabs, quivering faintly. A cold, indifferent voice followed, "This is what naturally comes to those aligned with the Divine Being—the rewards one ought to receive."
