Perhaps he would have given up on himself

Poseidon, the god of the sea, had a gleeful look on his face, which William didn't particularly dislike, but he felt it necessary to teach the young god a lesson—to show him that being a spectator isn't always as enjoyable as it seems.

The next moment, William and Poseidon found themselves in the vast, desolate cosmos, facing each other from a distance.

"Master, I was wrong," Poseidon said, a hint of panic in his voice.

Could it be? Was the master really angry?

William shook his head, "No! You're not wrong!"

"I really was wrong," Poseidon insisted, his face a picture of misery.

When others grasped the true power of the highest cosmic truths, they invariably experienced phenomena wrapped in thousands of holy lights, a scene of grandeur.

But for him, it seemed he was just about to get a beating.

Poseidon had no desire to fight William.

"Enough talk," William said. "Let me see what progress you've made."