The Last Supper

The Last Supper

"Bring that over here!"

Gord shouted.

"This, this!"

Gord pointed at another piece of equipment.

Sieg was immediately run off his feet, scurrying back and forth.

After watching Gord work for a while, Sieg tried to imitate him, but he did not seem to be doing very well.

"No, no, do it like this. Mm-hm, yes, that's it. You're much more diligent than that idiot Saber." Gord muttered to himself.

The speaker had meant nothing by it, but the listener took it to heart.

Sieg looked at Gord.

"Mr. Saber isn't an idiot."

Gord froze for a moment.

"He really isn't!"

"Fine." Gord scratched his head and said irritably, "You're the idiot, not him. Is that good enough?"

"Mm... I suppose so." Sieg thought for a moment, then nodded.

Then he continued treating the remaining homunculi.

Gord's hands slowed again, and he could not help looking at Sieg, who was working hard.

"Come to think of it, why are you doing all this for the homunculi? It doesn't seem like you have any reason to. If it's just about surviving, you could safely wait for Assassin to finish the Holy Grail War. If he asks the Thousand Tree family, we'll definitely agree to let you live."

"I'm the only one who escaped."

"Hm?" Gord felt as though his brain was about to become incapable of understanding what kind of species homunculi even were.

They were clearly alchemical creations he had made, so why were their minds wired together in ways he simply could not comprehend?

Was this the difference between mages and normal people? Or the difference between carbon-based lifeforms and silicon-based lifeforms?

"What an idiot, saying such meaningless stu—wait, what?"

Sieg tilted his head and blinked. "That's because I can move now, so I should help