She gazed at Yanfeng Gongzheng, pinned to the city wall like prey, with a look of disdain.
"A weak man like you is unworthy to become the spouse of me, Hippolyta."
Spouse?
Dangling from the city wall and swaying with the wind, Yanfeng Gongzheng endured excruciating pain but slowly formed a question mark.
He seemed to have heard a typo.
Was the other party perhaps from an era far more ancient?
Could the language of their time hold an inherently different meaning compared to modern understanding?
Yanfeng Gongzheng gritted his teeth and tried to pull the spear out… but it wouldn't budge.
The spear was deeply embedded in the city wall.
This single thrust was terrifying beyond measure.
On the city wall.
Gilgamesh's icy gaze was cast downward as he looked at the arrogant woman below.
"Tch, yet another piece of trash. Caster, handle—"
