The girl in the black mech did not reply to Herzog. She had always been like this, like an aloof and breathtaking iceberg that kept everyone at a distance. Even when facing Herzog, who had become the White King, her calm tone still betrayed no trace of fear or cowardice, as if not even death could cause the slightest emotional ripple in this girl.
Herzog's attitude turned icy as well. One had to understand that there was no one in this world worthy of talking to it as an equal, yet it had patiently chattered with this unknown visitor while granting her the mercy of extending her life through the conversation—this was the supreme glory a king bestowed upon mortals, yet the other party had refused this extra grace in her ignorance, leaving Herzog with nothing more to say.
Destruction was all that was needed. From the East to the West, just like the ancient Persian king who sat upon a golden palanquin carried high on the shoulders of slaves, traversing the entire continent, claiming every land he passed as his territory, bringing inevitable destruction to all who resisted, trailing behind him war banners truly dyed in the blood of the rebellious.
Chapter 669