"What do you mean, mortal?" she asked.
Tsk.
So unoriginal.
Come on, you're a goddess. At least try to sound mysterious or ominous.
But I didn't say that out loud… because right now, I had the upper hand.
Or at least, the illusion of one.
And when you're a dead man faking confidence in front of a goddess, the illusion was close enough to survive on.
Her aura burst out like a crashing tide, not directed at me, not this time. Just radiating in raw waves of divine tension.
Maybe disbelief.
Possibly curiosity…?
I don't know. It's not like I've done a doctorate in God Psychology.
But I could tell this wasn't anger.
Because let's be honest—most mortals don't even know the term "Heavenly Principles," let alone have the sheer gall to ask to be bound by them.
And me?
Not only did I know what they were… I knew how to invoke them.
"What I mean is simple, O Great Goddess."
I continued with a calm voice.
