Punch this talkative Hydro Archon to death, making her understand that the price for questioning the strongest man on earthis being utterly annihilated. Hand over the Collector's Edition disc of 'sweet girlfriend 5' and sincerely say:'Since you still doubt my motives, I am willing to hand over my most precious treasure as a gesture of sincerity.' In a low, domineering tone, say: 'Am I a scumbagor not? Why don't you verify it yourself? Come here, do it yourself.' Sigh softly, look at her seriously with those black eyes, voice softening: 'Not to raise friendship. Just don't want to watch you carry the burden alone. Five hundred years is long enough.'
King directly ignored option B. sweet girlfriend 5—there was no way he would hand that over.
King's gaze swept over the three options in turn.
Finally, it settled on D.
Although it was a bit cheesy.
But... this damn option forced him to choose [D]!!
King wished he could delete this trash skill from his skill library.
As if he had never drawn this skill in the first place.
King sighed softly.
Then, he raised his head, looking at Focalors seriously with those black eyes.
His gaze held no mockery, no teasing, only a rare softness.
'Not to raise friendship.'
His voice also softened, not as flat as usual, but carrying an unusual warmth.
'Just...'
He paused.
'Don't want to watch you carry the burden alone.'
'Five hundred years—you've carried it long enough.'
Focalors stood there dumbfounded.
Those sapphire-like eyes were wide open, filled with disbelief.
The heart's door, sealed for five hundred years, seemed to have been pushed open a crack, letting light seep in.
Don't want to watch you carry the burden alone.
Five hundred years is long enough.
Focalors's eyes began to sting again.
No, no, no!
Focalors, what are you doing?!
How can you be moved to tears by a scumbag's few words?!
She sharply sniffled, blinked hard, forcing back those traitorous tears.
'Hmph!!!'
She huffed heavily, placed her hands on her hips, chin held high, putting on an 'I'm super fierce' expression.
'You make it sound nice!'
'Who knows if you're just deliberately flattering me to raise my friendship!'
'I'm telling you, I'm not as easily fooled as Furina!'
'Trying to win me over with a few words? No chance!'
As she spoke, she even extended a small hand, waving it dismissively at King with a 'you're not good enough' expression.
Her long white eyelashes fluttered slightly, betraying her inner turmoil.
The blush on her cheeks also betrayed her true emotions.
Looking at this woman stubborn to the extreme, King suddenly felt like laughing.
Her eyes were already red like that, her voice trembling, yet she still insisted on putting on an 'I'm not falling for this' expression.
Is this the reserve of a goddess?
'Fine, scumbag it is then.' King nodded, not refuting. 'Believe it or not, it's up to you.'
He paused, changing the subject.
'Can you leave this place?'
Focalors was taken aback.
'What leaving... go to Fontaine?'
'Yes.' King looked at her. 'Come out of this broken box. Leave the rest to me.'
Focalors fell silent.
She lowered her head, looking at the flowing blue light beneath her feet, at this soul space that had trapped her for five hundred years.
Leave?
Of course, she wanted to.
She dreamed of it.
To stand under the sun, to feel the wind through her hair, to walk on Fontaine's streets with her own feet, to... 'No.'
King slightly frowned.
'Why? I said I'll handle the prophecy.'
'This is the backup plan.'
Focalors raised her head, meeting his gaze.
Those sapphire-like eyes held a resolute emotion King couldn't decipher.
'If one day, things truly reach an irreparable point.'
'Fontaine still has me.'
'Everyone will still have one last path to take.'
King looked at this woman before him, clearly moved yet stubbornly choosing to remain.
What immense sense of responsibility drove her to this extent?
Didn't know whether to call her foolish or great.
'You...'
King had just started speaking when he suddenly felt a repulsive force surging from all directions.
An invisible force gently enveloped him, pushing him towards a certain direction.
King was about to say something.
Suddenly, an invisible repulsive force surged from all directions.
Gentle, yet firm.
Focalors's soul space was pushing him out.
King instinctively wanted to resist.
With his power, a slight exertion could easily tear this repulsive force apart.
But in that instant, he saw Focalors's expression.
Pale, exhausted, a layer of fine cold sweat beading on her forehead.
This soul space was intimately connected to her.
Forcing resistance would only hurt her.
King did not resist.
Soul-level damage was no joke.
So King let that force envelop him. The world before his eyes began to warp again.
He took one last look at Focalors.
Those black eyes held no blame, no disappointment, only a tenderness bordering on indulgence.
'Fool.'
...Light and shadow swirled.
King had already returned to the Opera Epiclese.
The Oratrice Mecanique d'Analyse Cardinale stood quietly in the center of the stage.
As if nothing had happened.
But King knew that wasn't a dream.
He stood there, silent for a long time.
Then the corners of his mouth lifted, revealing a thoroughly indulgent smile.
Stubborn woman.
Saying she doesn't believe, but in her heart, she already does, right?
Even saying something like 'must stay here as the final insurance'... Focalors.
You're just being stubborn.
You won't seek death anymore.
King withdrew his gaze, turned, and walked towards the opera house exit.
His steps were light.
Focalors was pacified.
Time to return to the Opera Epiclese.
That little bitter melon Furina must be getting impatient, right?
...Inside the opera house after King left, it was empty.
It should have been empty.
'You detestable, huge scumbag!!!'
A scream of flustered anger exploded in the empty opera house.
'Just finished flirting with me and you go find Furina?!'
'What do you mean by that?!'
'Pretending I don't exist, is it?!'
'You fickle-hearted playboy! Playing N-timing! You capricious, shameless man!!'
'I wish you... I wish you...'
Focalors got stuck.
She racked her brains but found her 'refined' vocabulary pitifully lacking.
Having lived five hundred years, she spent every day thinking about saving Fontaine, with no time to learn how to curse.
'I wish you...'
She struggled for a long time, finally forcing out a sentence:
'I wish you only get flat Fonta!!!'
After shouting, she leaned breathlessly against the space inside the Oratrice, chest heaving violently.
Her blue hair cascaded down, covering her face flushed with shame and anger.
Detestable.
Detestable, detestable, detestable.
Focalors, you are a rational deity!
You are clever, witty, poised, graceful, and charming.
You should stay far away from that scumbag King.
Why did seeing him go to Furina make you so angry?
What is this?
Jealousy?
Focalors covered her face, curling into a ball.
'Focalors, you really are a fool...'
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