Berenice groaned, her body swaying as she climbed back onto Orson's shoulder. She half-pretended to faint, muttering, "Ten times the reward! No, I need a hundred times—yes, a hundred times!"
"I'll accept a thousand times if that's what it takes. Everything I have is yours," Orson said solemnly, but in his mind, a devilish whisper echoed, "But you're mine, so what's mine is still mine. Fair enough."
"This farce should end now."
With those words, Orson casually walked out of the blood mist, startling Ghost King, who instinctively stepped back.
"You..."
Ghost King opened her mouth but quickly regained composure. "Even if I cannot trap you, as long as my blood clan lives, you will die!"
"Your mouth... is so damn hard!"
Orson spat out bitterly, his hands moving with ruthless precision as he threw a Hurricane Spear at Ghost King. Instantly, she moved to dodge.
