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"So, what do you think?" The young girl lightly nudged the young woman washed ashore by the waves, as if commenting on cargo.
The perpetually malevolent witch now lay in such a pathetic state. As the leader of those nefarious mages, at this moment, whether it was the diligently built association or something else, everything was utterly destroyed. She was mercilessly ruined by the Scourge God, named John or Annie.
"Such severe injuries, even the Flames of Purgatory?" Luo Feng looked at the young woman, covered in wounds, and couldn't help but sigh softly, a hint of doubt in his voice.
"Yes, that is the authority from the Scourge God, John." Genevieve slightly bowed as she spoke. Although her words carried incomparable reverence, the young woman's thoughts certainly held no respect.
"What? Is there a fellow with such a name among my kin?" Luo Feng said indifferently, his words carrying doubt but also an undeniable sense of majesty that brooked no questioning.
"He is a newly emerged Scourge God in America, a fellow who is unwilling to show his true face to others." Genevieve said this, her words tinged with a hint of mockery. Perhaps, in the heart of this fellow with a loli appearance, even the so-called Scourge God was merely a tool to allow the Demon King Arthur to descend once more.
However, how could Luo Feng not think the same?
"Very good. Then, I will not be stingy towards a meritorious subordinate. Tell me the reward you desire, Genevieve." Luo Feng said this, his words carrying a majesty that made Genevieve feel a hint of danger.
"Your humble servant only wished to admire your battle, and I ask you to satisfy this humble request." Such words were spoken from the mouth of this loli, without a trace of hesitation.
Even Luo Feng's promise, which could include any amount of wealth and power, was uttered by this spirit without a trace of hesitation. The next moment, only the sound of waves lapping against the shore echoed incessantly here.
At this moment, in Grinwich, England.
The organization named the Grinwich Wise Men's Council was also the place most valued by the world in its understanding of the Scourge God. This place was originally for boring fellows, but due to various reasons, it grew exponentially, even far exceeding other associations or organizations in London.
Perhaps, this was also a manifestation of the Scourge God's influence.
And in the office of Miss Priscilla, an advisor belonging to the Grinwich Wise Men's Council. This beautiful young woman was using a ritual to transmit intelligence to the Scourge God named Alexander, who was located across a continent-sized distance in Europe.
"So, aren't you still pursuing the Holy Grail?" The woman said this, a hint of seduction in her words. Indeed, Alexander's actions, even if described as reckless, would not be an exaggeration.
Then, before the man could respond, Alice continued speaking. "Now, as your sworn enemy, I'll give you a piece of information: go check the Island Nation. Maybe you'll find that boring cup there!"
Such words, spoken from this woman's mouth, carried a hint of mockery. Indeed, it was unbelievable. This woman was absolutely not to be trusted. Her lifestyle reeked of deceit, so naturally, nothing she said could be believed. But, even so, Alexander still responded in a deep voice.
"I understand." Perhaps it was because questioning was utterly useless, but this man didn't show the slightest doubt, merely answering indifferently.
Regardless, as long as it was intelligence related to the Holy Grail, no matter how unbelievable, he would still pursue it. Perhaps this was his foolish ideal.
Hearing Alexander's response, Alice paid no heed to even the slightest hint of courtesy, and directly unleashed the magic from her fingertips. "Oh la la la, I didn't mean to."
She said this, but a faint smile still lingered at the corner of her mouth. This woman was just like this, just this dangerous.
"Then, my King, I have completed the command." As if pleading for something, the woman gently bowed to the King standing on the sand.
The lofty King casually tasted the precious wine belonging to Alice. The fiery red, slightly viscous red wine was carelessly placed by him on the sturdy table.
Gently savoring the aroma of the wine in his mouth, Gilgamesh couldn't help but nod slightly.
"The boon I, the King, have promised shall certainly be granted. Or rather, you don't trust the King's promise?"
He said this and that in a deep voice, but Alice seemed to feel an incomparable sense of oppression, her figure slightly blurring. This was precisely a projection created by Alice, and the true princess was actually Gilgamesh's prisoner.
She was a woman in a white long dress, with delicate ruffles that made her even lovelier. Even if she wasn't strikingly beautiful, she possessed a suitable aesthetic. This was the woman, named Alice, an incomparably wretched fellow.
"...No, your humble servant is merely," the young girl answered fearfully, her voice filled with unspeakable awe.
Gilgamesh lightly caressed the young girl in his arms, and that golden figure. A faint fragrance wafted from the young girl's body—a very high-quality perfume. Paired with her slightly delicate appearance, it was indeed extremely seductive. However, for Gilgamesh, it was meaningless. No matter how beautiful the young girl, to him, she was merely a toy. The only one who could truly make him invest emotion was the young girl named Enkidu.
He thought this while lightly nodding. "Then, this King shall grant you the qualification to follow in this King's footsteps, engraved into this King's legend (King's Treasury)."
Gilgamesh said this arrogantly, his words laced with a hint of disdain.
Alice needed his power. This young girl possessed absolutely incomparable curse power, but she had lost her physical quality. However, as long as Gilgamesh granted her the ability to become a Heroic Spirit, her already incomparably powerful curse power would be further strengthened, and her body could become far beyond that of ordinary people.
Merely this was enough. This incomparably foolish young girl was exactly what he was considering. As for Alexander's rage, it was instead completely meaningless.
A faint golden light bloomed in Gilgamesh's hand, then pressed towards Alice. That was a power of authority, a power capable of human apotheosis. The next moment, Alice's body radiated golden light.
A Heroic Spirit was thus born.
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