A Trap? (Continued)

The corners of Heracles's mouth lifted slightly.

Sure enough, it was rather childish.

If his teacher saw him teasing Achilles like this, he would probably criticize him. Using schemes even against his own junior disciple.

But Heracles had always treated such words as idle chatter.

A true strong man always took seriously any enemy, whether weaker or stronger than himself.

As long as they were enemies, he had to go all out.

Whether with strength or strategy.

However, a sudden change occurred.

Heracles's beautiful dream was abruptly interrupted by a golden radiance.

Dozens of Noble Phantasms surged toward Heracles like a flood.

The Noble Phantasms even swallowed Achilles within them.

With no other choice, Heracles had to dodge, and Achilles had to evade as well.

Without any prior agreement, once the flood of Noble Phantasms dispersed, the two of them looked toward the depths of the passage.

There was only one person capable of such a method—

Gilgamesh.

"Caster, are you trying to kill me along with him?" Achilles asked angrily.

"If Archer can die, then it matters not if you die with him as well." Gilgamesh stood on the railing, looking at Achilles with some disdain.

"Looks like the real one has arrived too." Heracles watched Gilgamesh warily.

Although there had been many reasons for his death back then, such as having his wisdom stripped away and possessing terrible compatibility with his class.

But being killed was still being killed.

If the other side had the ability to defeat him once, then there was a chance he could defeat him a second time.

Bold yet cautious—this was the fundamental reason Heracles had overcome countless trials.

"Don't misunderstand. I have no intention of fighting you here. If you want to fight, then come inside. Rider, Lancer, let's go. We're leaving."