Amidst the swirling marble dust and the sounds of battle shaking Gimle Palace, King Gyo stood with ragged breath and a face flushed red with unbridled rage.
The aging king witnessed the chaos unfolding before him—not only was his daughter’s birthday celebration utterly ruined, but the out-of-control hybrid monsters had begun attacking indiscriminately, threatening the safety of the entire palace.
With hurried steps and overflowing fury, King Gyo plowed through the debris, heading straight toward the third-generation god-blood special bodyguard who stood calmly near the shadow of a pillar.
”Hey!
What kind of rotten scheme is this?!” King Gyo snapped, his voice trembling with intense fury.
”We agreed to target and humiliate the House of Silver in a controlled manner, not let these crazy monsters run amok, destroying my palace and threatening my family’s lives!
What kind of Plan B are you running, huh?!”
The third-generation god-blood man did not answer immediately.
He slowly turned his head, gazing at King Gyo with one eye covered by magical burn scars.
A sneering, condescending smile curved upon his lips.
”A plan?” The man’s raspy voice cut in sharply.
“You think we care about your rotting throne or the screams of these cowardly nobles, you foolish old king?”
Before King Gyo could even process those words or issue a further protest, a streak of lightning flashed through the air.
SLAP!
A heavy, powerful blow landed squarely across King Gyo’s cheek.
The impact was so massive that the plump body of the Dukedom ruler was instantly hurled backward, crashing down onto the cold marble marmer floor and passing out unconscious in a pool of fresh blood oozing from the corner of his lips.
Kyaaaaakkhh!
Ear-splitting, hysterical screams erupted instantly from the king’s wives and his fifteen-year-old eldest daughter.
They rushed desperately toward King Gyo’s helpless body, their faces pale with terror as they mourned the ruler who had fallen in a single instant.
Yet, amidst the panic and hysterical weeping, a profoundly bizarre sight occurred.
Princess Rebecca, who had just turned ten years old and had just been forced into an unwanted engagement, did not shed a single tear.
Instead, beneath her porcelain-pale face, the little princess’s lips curved into a faint, cold, and hollow smile—as if her father’s death or destruction was the most satisfying spectacle she had ever anticipated in this world.
Seeing his father’s pride trampled upon and struck unconscious, the rage burning in the chest of the crown prince—King Gyo’s twenty-five-year-old eldest son—reached its boiling point.
With his eyes bulging red with fury, he instantly unsheathed a sword from a nearby knight who was still stunned in place.
The sharp steel blade pointed straight at the god-blood bodyguard, while the prince activated his Spirit technique, radiating a brilliant golden glow.
”You bastard…
How dare you!” the crown prince snapped with a trembling voice, preparing to lunge and avenge the insult.
Seeing this reaction, the third-generation god-blood man merely let out a cynical snort, completely unfazed by the heir’s threat.
”A foolish crown prince who only knows how to whine,” the god-blood bodyguard sneered coldly. This chapter was taken from g.com without permission.
Beside him, Palace Knight Commander Valen Rembarnd and Grand General of the Palace Eigen Narth stepped forward immediately to protect the prince, drawing their respective swords with thunderous, roaring Spirit auras, ready to welcome a deadly clash in the middle of Gimle Palace.
”Execute that wretched creature!
Do not let him breathe in this hall!” Valen Rembarnd roared, issuing an absolute command in a booming voice.
Hearing the Commander’s decree, dozens of elite soldiers—the remaining palace guards still standing within the hall—moved in unison.
With eyes ablaze with fury and roaring war cries, they brandished their longswords wrapped in pulsing Spirit energy, forming a tight enclosing formation like a steel net ready to tear their target apart.
However, what they faced was no ordinary human.
Greeg, the third-generation god-blood bodyguard, showed not a shred of panic.
Instead, he let out a dismissive snort.
Before the soldiers’ sword blades could even draw close, Greeg stomped his foot against the floor.
BOOM!
A massive, high-pressure shockwave erupted instantly, triggering an invisible sonic wave storm.
Dozens of soldiers who had been charging forward were suddenly violently hurled into the air in the blink of an eye.
Before their bodies even hit the ground, the brutal pressure of Greeg’s destructive Spirit struck their internal organs mercilessly.
Fresh blood gushed heavily from the mouths of the soldiers in a horrific state—most of them dying instantly from the fatal impact that crushed their ribs, snapped their necks, and shattered their chests from within, turning the palace’s prideful line of knights into a pool of bloody corpses within seconds.
Amidst the ravaging chaos of the hall, a fierce battle raged between Edward and Julian Vallière without the use of a single weapon.
Edward pressed forward with a brutal and aggressive bare-handed assault.
His body was enveloped in a cyan-colored Spirit glow that exuded speed, sharpness, and explosive momentum with every strike.
His punches and kicks launched continuously like a storm, attempting to tear through the young Vallière’s defense.
If only I had brought my sword to this cursed banquet…
Edward cursed inwardly in the heat of his assault, his breathing ragged with frustration.
This cunning bastard is truly annoying.
Without a blade in hand, taking him down turns out to be far more troublesome than I expected!
Conversely, Julian stood in a total defensive posture.
His body was draped in an azure-colored Spirit glow that was calming yet cold, channeling absolute precision and energy stability into every joint of his movement.
Julian had no intention of launching an offensive counter-attack his gentle nature and deep hatred for bloodshed made him nauseous every time a fist swept past his face.
Relying on his Talent, Tactical Flow, as well as Spirit Observation, Julian’s eyes read every trajectory of Edward’s punches a fraction of a second before his opponent’s muscles contracted.
Every time an attack came, he merely swayed his body with efficient, subtle movements—shifting his steps slightly or deflecting his opponent’s elbow with a soft touch to redirect the momentum—completely avoiding the brutal impact he abhorred so much.
Meanwhile, outside the shattered windows of the hall, a far wilder battle erupted in the snowy courtyard.
Tsar Kosovo, the hot-blooded youth from the Free Republic of Yedikule faction, stood with heavy breath and a wide smile radiating bloodlust.
Before him, a hybrid beast shaped like a combination of a human and a snow tiger roared ferociously, clawing at the white snow which had now turned a deep, stark red with blood.
Without warning, the tiger hybrid lunged at lightning speed, relying on its venomous claws to rip out the Tsar’s neck.
However, Tsar Kosovo met that charge with an explosion of red Spirit enveloping his entire body, radiating scorching heat and massive physical pressure that made the cold air tremble. This chapter is updated first at novelping . com.
With a loud laugh that pierced the snowstorm, Tsar slammed his fist directly against the monster’s claws.
The brutal punch wrapped in high-level Hardening Spirit triggered an energy shockwave that launched snow into the air across a radius of dozens of meters.
Back inside the main hall, tension reached its boiling point.
King Gyo’s body lay helpless on the cold marble floor, unconscious in a pool of fresh blood after taking a powerful slap from the mysterious third-generation god-blood bodyguard.
The sound of armored boots scraping sharply against the stone floor echoed through the half-ruined hall.
Valen Rembarnd, the Palace Knight Commander, narrowed his sharp blue eyes, enduring the pain after watching his comrades massacred in an instant.
The blue Spirit aura radiating from his body rumbled steadily, emitting a wave of pressure that froze the surrounding air.
To his right, Eigen Narth, the Grand General of the Palace, stood with a sturdy posture like a rock-solid fortress, coating his entire body with advanced Spirit Observation, reading every fluctuation of mana and breath of his enemy before them without blinking once.
”Do you think the grand name of the House of Vallière or some cheap god-blood flowing in your veins gives you the right to trample upon the sovereignty of the Dukedom?” Valen’s voice rang out cold and booming, cutting through the lingering lamentations of the palace women.
The third-generation god-blood bodyguard did not reply with words.
He merely grinned widely, exposing a row of teeth bared to the cold air.
Behind the single eye covered by magical burn scars, a flash of unbridled bloodlust exploded outward without restraint.
In a fraction of a second, the air around the man’s body trembled violently; the space near him seemed to warp under the crushing weight of a destructive Spirit pressure that surpassed normal human limits.
An invisible shockwave burst from the god-blood guard’s stance, turning marble debris into fine dust.
Without warning, he shot forward, breaking the sound barrier.
His primary target was not the trembling crown prince in the back, but crashing straight into the center of Valen and Eigen’s defensive line.
The deadly clash between the palace’s top military brass and the god-blood monster officially commenced, shaking the foundations of Gimle Palace to its core.
As the clash broke out, Greeg darted forward like a dark shadow.
His movements were not only fast, but seemed to defy normal physics, weaving smoothly through the remaining pillars of the Gimle Palace hall.
Palace Knight Commander Valen Rembarnd immediately swung his sword in a full-powered vertical slash, attempting to split the air before him.
Yet, with a movement so casual as if he were dancing at a banquet, Greeg tilted his head slightly.
Valen’s sword blade only sheared empty air, missing its target by less than a millimeter.
Before Valen Rembarnd could retract his weapon, Greeg had already darted shadowlessly forward, thrusting two fingers straight into the Commander’s chest.
ZING!
Though it looked like an ordinary finger thrust at a glance, the extraordinary pressure of the god-blood lineage combined with destructive Spirit injected directly into vital pressure points triggered a massive kinetic explosion.
BOOOOM!
Valen Rembarnd was blasted ten meters backward in the blink of an eye.
His military steel boots scraped and fractured the marble floor, leaving a deep, scorched, smoking trench behind before he finally drove his sword into the ground to halt his nearly collapsing body, spitting out a drop of fresh blood from the corner of his mouth as his armor was punctured with a baseball-sized hole.