Yi Lin made a bold request.
King Gilgamesh, seated high upon the throne, fell into silence.
A piercing killing intent erupted in the palace, with Gilgamesh at its center.
Yi Lin felt a sharp pain between his brows and instinctively stepped back two paces.
Before his eyes,
the figure of Gilgamesh seemed to grow several times larger, towering high enough to evoke an instinctive fear, a sense of unattainable majesty.
The killing intent was real.
When Yi Lin coveted the King's treasures, Gilgamesh reflexively birthed murderous thoughts.
But fortunately, Gilgamesh restrained himself.
After a few seconds, Gilgamesh regained his composure.
"No one can ever covet the treasures of this king." Gilgamesh changed the subject. "The future of this war is already sealed."
"Oh?" Yi Lin sneered. "Is that what those eyes of yours see as well?"
Gilgamesh nodded. "It is the future of Uruk."
Yi Lin frowned. "But I come from the 'future.'"
