"I told you, she still isn't perfect." Luke continued with regret on his face. "She still needs one final material before she can become the perfect life-form as I understand it."
"What material?" A shadow crept over Agatha's heart. From Luke's tone, she vaguely sensed something was wrong—and malicious.
"A soul! A soul from the Mystic Side that is powerful enough, deeply versed in magic, and supremely skilled! Preferably a living being from the Nine Realms. Their souls possess particularly outstanding qualities. Though either sex would do, I still prefer a witch. After all, in my understanding, she should be female. Of course, voluntary would be best." Luke blurted it out without hiding anything, his gaze locked tightly on Agatha as he spoke.
"You want my soul?" Agatha's expression changed drastically. Even ordinary people understood the importance of the soul, and someone like her, who toyed with witchcraft and magic, cared even more. No mage would casually hand over their soul.
Agatha even recalled the obsessive emotions she had experienced recently, and a terrifying thought arose in her mind.
"You deliberately revealed your identity to lure me here?" Agatha blurted out. Magic power surged around her as dangerous Black Magic gathered in her hands.
"Don't be like that. Everything can be discussed." Luke paid Agatha's magic no mind. Before the spell could take shape, the violent magical fluctuations died down again. With Hecate nearby, he did not even need to bring out his anti-magic techniques.
"Besides, even if you used magic to kill me here, so what? I'm just a pitiful clone! Kill me once, ten times, hundreds or thousands of times—what would be the point?"
"None at all!"
"As for Black Magic such as Bloodline Curses or soul connections, this body of mine contains at least twenty-five percent of