Golden City.
In an exquisitely luxurious palace, the floor was covered with a soft carpet, and the surroundings were adorned with gold and silver items, while the throne in front was embellished with various gems. The figure of Prometheus sat solemnly in front of the throne, with two beautiful concubines fanning him from behind, and in front of him, a scribe dressed in what seemed like Egyptian attire knelt.
Prometheus's abdomen was still wrapped in bandages, as Duncan's heavy blow had injured his internal organs. If it weren't for the intervention of priests from the gods, an ordinary person might have died instantly.
"What did you say?"
At this moment, Prometheus's expression was full of anger and disbelief. He stood up in fury, his eyes showing a hint of jealousy as he roared, "Say it again!"
The scribe trembled as he knelt on the ground, cautiously saying, "Your Highness, we have already received news about Hegel and his group."
