Yelander gazed at him quietly, the smile on his face not fading in the slightest.
"You did very well, child."
Gilgamesh narrowed his eyes, the killing intent between his brows growing stronger. He raised a hand lightly, and divine power carried A Zhu into the midst of the startled orderlies. A flicker of violet began dancing along his blade!
"I've found you displeasing for a long time... Today, you injured someone first, so don't blame this king!"
Gilgamesh snorted coldly. The next moment, a savage purple sword radiance swept across the hospital rooftop like a crescent moon. Even the sky was dyed violet, and amid a thunderous explosion, billowing dust engulfed the entire hospital.
"What happened?"
"No idea... King Gilgamesh suddenly started fighting that old parrot!"
"A Zhu, A Zhu! Are you all right?"
"Someone, hurry and bandage him!"
"..."
The earth-shaking commotion drew all the orderlies over. Hong Yan held the coughing A Zhu in her arms, her face dark with anger.
"Who knows what happened?"
Beside her, the crimson eye between Black Pupil's brows stared intently at the center of the battlefield. He slowly said, "A Zhu wanted to give Yelander medicine, but a burst of white light suddenly erupted from him and injured A Zhu..."
"White light? Did he do it on purpose or by accident?"
"...I don't know. Maybe it was an accident. After all, he's mentally ill."
As the dust gradually dispersed, the orderlies nervously stared toward the center of the hospital, now reduced to ruins, shock filling their eyes.
Gilgamesh gripped his longsword, divine power surging around his body. His blade, laden with the laws of a king, was pressed against Yelander's throat. Yet even after taking that earth-shattering strike head-on, Yelander bore no injuries at all—not even a speck of dust on him.