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Chapter 88 - Chapter 88: The Search for the Final Two

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...

8:00 PM, Kranjcar Residence, Liliana's Private Room.

Liliana clutched a bedsheet, her face pale and drawn, huddled in a corner. Her pupils were dilated, and she wore an expression of utter despair.

Haru sat on the spacious bed, large enough for five people, looking at the indignant, naked, blonde girl before him – Erica Blandelli, also known as the Red Devil. He wore a troubled expression.

"So, why did you suddenly barge in? Didn't you see what was going on? Now look, Liliana's completely traumatized."

Hearing Haru's words, Erica turned to look at the cowering Liliana, a flicker of apology crossing her face. But it was fleeting, quickly replaced by her previous indignation.

"Because I'm jealous! Why does Liliana act like she's about to die when I tease her, but she's so eager to cooperate with you? I'm not happy. Besides, how did it feel to play with both of Milan's most beautiful flowers at the same time, my King?"

At the word "cooperate," Liliana's pupils focused slightly, and a faint blush colored her cheeks.

"While it felt amazing, Liliana's first time was a threesome. She's going to need therapy now."

Haru reached out and pinched Erica's cheeks, pulling and stretching them playfully.

"Didn't… didn't you say I could tease Liliana? Besides, I only drugged her to pave the way for you, my King~~" Erica stammered, her words slurred as Haru continued to torment her face.

Liliana's face darkened, and a black aura emanated from her as she glared at the two conspirators.

"I said you could tease her, and then you decided to drug and force her the next day?" Haru frowned, looking at Erica, who wore a smug expression, showing no remorse.

"Of course! Liliana is so stubborn and uptight; the only way to make her give in is to force the issue! Otherwise, when would she ever dare to compete with me in bed?" Erica said, twirling a strand of her golden hair with a perfect, ladylike smile.

Haru's eye twitched. He reached out, placing his left hand on Erica's stomach and his right hand on her neck, pinning her to the bed. He then grabbed a fly swatter from the nightstand and tossed it to Liliana.

"Liliana, let it all out. You can hit me too, since I'm also to blame."

Compete in bed? To think Erica would try to force a knight into such a shameless act! Liliana's body trembled with rage. She picked up the fly swatter and walked towards Erica.

"Liliana, calm down! Why are you hitting only me?~~~" Erica cried out, looking at Haru, who was grinning mischievously, and Liliana, who was radiating a murderous aura.

"Because the King is never wrong. It's all your fault! You want to compete with me? My King, are you interested in disciplining this golden fox?" Liliana's face was grim as she pulled down Erica's panties.

"I'm definitely interested," Haru said, a wicked smile spreading across his face.

...

The full moon hung high in the night sky, surrounded by a dazzling array of stars, creating a breathtakingly beautiful scene.

Naples was renowned worldwide for its stunning beauty.

Such a beautiful moonlit night was not uncommon.

Under this picturesque sky, on an intact bridge by the sea in Naples, more than 10 kilometers away from Haru's location, the most orthodox God-Ancestor stood on the bridge railing.

The young woman, with the delicate beauty of an antique doll, looked to be about ten years old. Her slender frame was clad in a black dress, and an aura of tranquility surrounded her. She stood on the bridge, gazing down at the surface of the river below. Her sapphire-blue eyes were filled with a solemn expression.

A moment later, Guinevere spoke softly, her voice ethereal yet laced with frustration. "I'm sorry, Uncle. I couldn't find the Steel. The Steel's aura and the Earth Mother Goddess's aura are heavily mixed, and they've been disturbed by another Earth Mother Goddess. I can't sense anything."

As Guinevere's voice faded, the figure of a knight in white armor slowly emerged from the water beneath the bridge, appearing before her.

Lancelot du Lac.

The famed Knight of the Lake from Celtic mythology.

The Heretic God had manifested here using a secret technique, concealed beside Guinevere.

"Don't worry, We've already waited for so long; a little longer won't matter."

"But, Uncle, are you sure the Steel that appeared here is the King we're looking for?" Guinevere's expression was uncertain.

"If we confirm that this Steel is indeed the Last King we seek, then this time spent is worthwhile. But what if he isn't?"

"Then we'll continue searching!" Lancelot replied without hesitation.

"It is your mission to awaken our slumbering Lord and allow him to reappear on this earth. My mission is to protect my beloved daughter and wield my lance for our Lord and you. Isn't that what we've already decided?"

"You're right, Uncle," Guinevere sighed softly.

"Both you and I were once followers of that King. If either of us had even a shred of memory about the King, we wouldn't have to go to such lengths to find him."

In the distant past, before becoming a God-Ancestor, Guinevere, as a goddess, and Lancelot, as a war god, had followed the Last King, wandering and fighting across this land.

Logically, Lancelot and Guinevere should have known the Last King intimately.

However, the reality was that neither of them had any memories of him.

Guinevere had lost all her past memories after being reincarnated from a goddess into a God-Ancestor.

Lancelot's lack of knowledge about the Last King's whereabouts stemmed purely from his indifference to remembering unimportant things.

"You're willing to forget even the name and appearance of the Lord you once served, as long as you can display your valor as a War God. That's just like you, Uncle," Guinevere said with a troubled sigh.

Hearing Guinevere's lament, the white knight replied nonchalantly, "Indeed. Galloping across the plains, wielding my lance – that is my only desire. Everything else is trivial, irrelevant to me. They are merely factors that would dull my senses and weaken my resolve. So why bother clinging to them?"

If a human heard Lancelot's words, they would likely think he was insane.

He was willing to discard anything that might hinder his ability to fight without reservation, even manipulating his memories, allowing them to vanish without a second thought.

Such values were unimaginable to humans.

Gods were beings whose values were incomprehensible to humans.

And among these Heretic Gods, Lancelot, the Steel War God, stood out with his complete lack of hesitation or doubt.

"The men who once fought alongside me, if they die on the battlefield, I simply raise my sword, mourn their deaths, and take pride in their glorious passing. Isn't that enough?" Lancelot's words held no trace of uncertainty.

"However, I must apologize. If I weren't so wilful, we might have found the Lord we serve much sooner."

"No, Uncle, please don't say that," Guinevere said, looking at Lancelot's reflection in the water with sincere eyes.

"It is precisely because of your unwavering conviction and self-belief that you stand among the strongest Steel."

"Unfortunately, I fear I can only accompany you for a little while longer," Lancelot said, his voice still as calm as ever.

...

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