"So boring."
Still in the luxurious hotel with soft, elegant decor, Gilgamesh leaned lightly against the light brown sofa.
In his hand was a golden amulet inlaid with jewels, like a sword of Damocles. It was a B-rank treasure, capable of blocking all attacks of B-rank or lower. Merely by looking at it, one could appreciate its unique exquisite beauty.
That was a treasure, named 'Strike Weapon Talisman,' a B-rank treasure, enough to block all attacks of B-rank or lower. Merely by looking at it, it was an extremely powerful treasure.
"Still really boring. Waiting aimlessly like this, isn't this the fate of a king!"
Gilgamesh said as if he had made a decision, then lightly tossed the precious treasure away.
That golden talisman, like that, slammed fiercely against the ancient wall with light brown wallpaper.
However, treasures, let alone such collisions, even bullets, or even huge explosions, wouldn't cause a shred of damage.
Because that was the materialization of human legend, the treasure, an unparalleled collection in the hands of a king.
The next moment, the golden talisman, at the instant it hit the wall, turned into light dust, scattering in the hotel.
"Then, it's time to find something worth making this king laugh. Such boring waiting is not what this king expects."
His words carried a hint of displeasure, and even more so, a hint of playfulness.
As he said this, the two knights standing beside him couldn't help but bow their heads deeply.
They were his kings, his loyal lords. Even if they did whatever they pleased, it was still far from what they could point fingers at.
"The target this time is those mongrels. I hope they can feel some... pleasure from this!"
Gilgamesh said in a deep voice, his words carrying a hint of coldness.
His face, like intricately carved jade, was clear and serene. The corners of his mouth were slightly raised, forming an expression full of malice.
"Babylon! Protect me!"
Gilgamesh said lightly, his words carrying a hint of indifference.
Then, perhaps not even a moment passed, dark red light dust condensed in front of Gilgamesh.
A robust figure appeared in the light dust, clad in exquisite knightly armor of dark red and deep red.
He was Ered's uncle, ranked second among Italy's magic societies, and the chief of the 'Red Copper Black Cross.'
Looking at that exquisitely crafted face, yet carrying an unparalleled resilience, more so, the sharp intent belonging to a knight.
Even though he was no longer young, there was not a shred of aging on this man's face.
That was the power of authority, the power of the god-slayer, absolutely unforgiving.
The authority named 'Heroic Spirit,' which spiritualized this knight, though human, was now inscribed in legend, regardless of strength or lifespan, it was absolutely unique.
"My lord, here."
A slightly deep response came from the knight, carrying a hint of arrogance.
Even though he was naturally unrestrained, at this moment, he was absolutely not to be trifled with. The king's majesty was above all else.
"Babylon, give him the remaining five pieces of jewelry."
Gilgamesh said this, but his words carried a hint of teasing.
Upon hearing this, Babylon's face didn't show the slightest change.
"Yes, my lord!"
This decisive and unwavering response, without question and without doubt.
Perhaps, this was the pressure of the Tyrant's oppression.
"Then, please don't disappoint this king, the highest knight of Italy."
Gilgamesh said meaningfully, then nodded with satisfaction.
Then, he rose from the sofa, looking at the people in chaos outside the window, and couldn't help but smile slightly.
"Then, this king shall go and see the Kingdom of England first. That god of war, named Shiva, wasn't he from there?"
Such thoughtless words came from Gilgamesh's mouth, carrying a hint of indifference.
However, upon hearing this, Babylon couldn't help but feel a slight flicker of worry.
He knew he had an unclear relationship with the princess from the 'Grigori Assembly.'
Of course, perhaps they were just friends, or not even friends, but merely fellow knights, which was why Babylon extended a helping hand.
"I'll take my leave!"
Babylon said lightly, then transformed his spirit body.
That robust body once again transformed into a spirit body, dark red light dust swirling in the living room.
"I hope, it will be something that pleases this king. Those damned mongrels!"
He said this as if he had thought of something again, and slightly furrowed his brows.
On the other side, on the golden beach, the scorching sun baked the rolling ocean.
This place was near the Red Line, located north of the Fei'er Archipelago, named after the Elven Archipelago at its northernmost edge, which was the Elf Island.
At this moment, a delicate elf stood on the scorching beach.
She had golden hair, about seventeen or eighteen years old. Her golden curly hair was scattered over her graceful curves, exuding extreme beauty.
And that dark red-lined attire added a touch of enchantment to her.
"Welcome, Cult Master Luo."
That '023 Luo Li' said this, slightly bowing her body, then bowed respectfully towards the dazzling sea.
However, in the empty space, a responding voice echoed.
"There's no need for formalities. God Ancestor, your name is Gaia, isn't it?"
That voice, as clear as qin music, seemed to pour out from the waves.
The next moment, the seawater gradually condensed, transforming into a girl with dark hair.
"So, what do you want to hand over to me, that so-called 'Non-Surrender Blade'?"
She possessed a lion-like majesty, yet her voice was extremely clear.
She was a young girl dressed in white Hanfu, seemingly about seventeen or eighteen years old. At this moment, she stood calmly on the surging waves.
"I understand, Cult Master."
Gaia nodded lightly, then raised her delicate white arm and waved slightly at the surging seawater.
"Come here, Anxella."
She called out to the ocean like this, and with the rise and fall of the waves, a young girl appeared a few minutes later.
She was a girl covered in dark red scars, who could only endure the lapping of the waves, panting softly.
She was called Anxella, the God Ancestor, who should have died in the hands of the God Slayer.
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