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His boyish face, usually full of innocence, was now etched with gravity.

After sensing the connection with his left-hand demon, the King of Rats—rem imdiately quickened his pace.

The King of Rats was a demon rem had imagined into existence.

Therefore, as long as rem himself didn't die, the King of Rats could be revived. However, once truly dead, it would inevitably turn into fragnts and disappear shortly after.

rem was certain that Altrouge would then know he was still alive.

"I must speed up." rem gazed towards the forest exit, towards the black ancient castle at the foot of the cliff below, and moved rapidly.

In just a short while, rem arrived at the castle gate.

Caw~ Caw~ Caw~

Atop the castle walls, thousands of various birds stood, so on two feet, so on one. Upon seeing rem's figure appear, they let out unintelligible cries.

Although the castle was teeming with birds, judging by the clean and tidy walls, these birds seed to be owned. After all, places where birds flocked were often gathered. Without soone to restrain them, these birds certainly wouldn't curb their own behavior.

"King of Birds~~ An old friend has co to visit!" rem stood before the ancient, classical wooden gate and spoke gravely.

Creak—! Creak—! Creak—!

The wooden gate emanated an unusual magical aura and slowly opened. When the gap was wide enough to pass through, rem hurriedly rushed into the castle.

Inside the castle hall, darkness was the main the. However, with rem's arrival, the braziers on the load-bearing pillars supporting the castle's weight, which had been quiet, instantly burst into roaring flas.

"It's been a hundred years, Gransurg." rem, travel-worn, entered the hall and directly addressed the figure on the main seat in the living room.

"So agitated, that's not like you, rem Solomon. Whatever it is, sit down and talk," the figure on the main seat said, looking puzzledly at the agitated rem.

Gransurg Blackmore, ranked sixteenth among the Twenty-seven Dead Apostle Ancestors—also known by the titles of Moon Drinker, and Lord of the Black Wing, was one of the oldest Dead Apostles.

He was the target of rem's trip to Austria this ti.

"Sitting down for a chat—let's skip that. I'll be brief: I need your help, Gransurg," rem refused Gransurg's kind offer.

"Apologies, allow to refuse." Gransurg shook his head, softly declining.

"Eh, Bird-Head? What do you an? I've already humbled myself to ask you." rem looked astonished at Gransurg. Then his expression changed, and he directly swore. After all, it had been nearly a thousand years of acquaintance; would helping out kill him?

Gransurg wasn't angry at rem directly calling him "Bird-Head," because his head actually was a bird's head.

Born with an abnormal reverence for birds, after transforming into a Dead Apostle, he had changed his own head into the likeness of a bird. His spine and wrists were even modified by him to sprout pitch-black wings. This was also why other Dead Apostles called him Lord of the Black Wing.

"I will not fight for personal feelings, let alone yours. My reason for fighting will always be only to fight for the Crimson Moon."

Gransurg's aning was clear: his relationship with rem wasn't good, and he wouldn't act for rem's private affairs unless the matter involved the Crimson Moon.

Gransurg actually had a very clear definition of his own identity. As a Dead Apostle, he was essentially the Crimson Moon's 'familiar.' Therefore, unless the matter involved the Crimson Moon, he would only then take action.

As for mutual help between friends—pardon him for being a bird with limited brain capacity; he didn't recall having any friends to speak of.

"Oh dear, my mory! I actually forgot that." rem slapped his head, chuckled self-deprecatingly, then said to Gransurg, "The matter involves the Princess. I need your help."

"What happened? rem, the Princess's safety should be your responsibility!" Gransurg's face turned cold as he spoke, slightly reproachfully.

An icy killing intent emanated from Gransurg. Clearly, if rem, responsible for Arcueid's security, couldn't explain himself, rem would probably et his end here.

As the best vessel for the Crimson Moon's resurrection, Gransurg regarded Arcueid as his quasi-master. Therefore, when the matter involved Arcueid's safety, Gransurg's face imdiately turned cold.

'A subordinate who fails in his duty has no reason to exist.' This was Gransurg's current thought.

rem ignored Gransurg's killing intent and directly laid out the Roa incident and his own speculations.

"That's how it is!" rem grabbed the teapot nearby, directly gulping down several mouthfuls of black tea before speaking.

"The inferior product recovered its strength? And even kidnapped the Princess? What a terrible situation. Indeed, we should have eliminated that inferior product sooner; now it's too troubleso." Gransurg's face beca grave.

Altrouge's presumptuous capture of Arcueid made Gransurg feel a sense of crisis. He wouldn't allow anyone to obstruct the Crimson Moon's return, so he intended to directly eliminate Altrouge.

"Eh, Bird-Head, I rember your Bounded Field seems to have absolute killing power against Dead Apostles, right? If you act, dealing with the Black Princess's subordinates shouldn't be a problem?" rem asked, surprised.

In rem's view, he and Gransurg would first team up to rescue Arcueid. Then he would temporarily hold off the White Beast, Gransurg would take out the Black and White Knights, and Arcueid would KO the Black Princess—the chances of victory were very high.

Ultimately, rem and Gransurg's thoughts were aligned: anyone threatening the Crimson Moon's return was not allowed to exist, even if that person was another princess.

"The current Princess won't go all out against that inferior product, let alone kill it. If we rashly make a move, the Princess might even turn against us." Gransurg touched his bird-head, sowhat troubled.

Unlike rem with his pathological 'princess complex,' Gransurg's mind was very clear. Arcueid, freed from the constraints of True Ancestors, having enjoyed eight hundred years of solitude, had very complex feelings for Altrouge, the only remaining quasi-True Ancestor in this world and also her sister.

Therefore, getting Arcueid to deliver a killing blow to Altrouge was absolutely impossible. Thus, relying on his and rem's strength alone, dealing with Altrouge at her peak would naturally be extrely difficult.

"...What do you suggest then?" rem imdiately reacted. He wasn't stupid; if soone over a thousand years old were truly foolish, they would have died long ago. Only when matters involved Arcueid would his IQ drop.

Gransurg just said it was troubleso, not that there was no solution. So, he naturally had a plan in mind. Thus, rem directly asked.

"Swallow our pride and call for help," Gransurg's mouth twitched as he spoke in a low voice.

rem's face turned grim. He understood.

This ant uniting all of Altrouge's hostile forces. However, among those hostile forces, there were people rem himself couldn't stand. Asking him to call for help...

"Don't forget, the inferior product's maximum output can surpass our master by a notch," Gransurg stated indifferently.

rem's face turned ashen as he slowly nodded.

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