The Atrocious Werewolf Prince

Chapter 68 Towards The Spirity Bailiwick (2)



<Elfpartia, Empire of Elves>

Outside the dwelling of a certain young lady, a man of majestic aura wielding a spear, his cautious voice sounded, "It's time miss. The elders have sent me to notify you that we may leave."

Inside the building, a lovely snow-white figure lay under a thin quilt on a soft bed. Even so, the quilt was unable to hide her extremely alluring curves.

Upon hearing the man's voice, the figure rose from the quilt.

The quilt fell, immediately revealing a body as fair as lamb fat. Her long green hair hung in front of her, covering two heart-poundingly busty mounds.

"Come in." She raised her head, only to reveal an exceedingly charming little face akin to a little pixie's, a face that would make one feel a rush of excitement.

The man carefully pushed open the door and walked in. Even though he was familiar with the female, the erotic sight on the bed caused the man's gaze to involuntarily sweep across that unreasonable to the extreme figure.

The spearman quickly started to retrieve some clothes and helped the young lady put them on.

The long green dress, similar to her hair now covering her body, made her lovely figure appear even more mesmerising. Slender yet bountiful in all the right places, those curves alone were enough to draw the gaze of everyone in the area.

"Hehe, thank you, Baron. Tell elders that I will definitely bring back a satisfying result!" The little enchantress beamed as she gave a little peck on the man's cheek.

The spearman helplessly reminded, "Miss, elders and king said that you must obtain the greatest gift!"

"What kind of gift is difficult for me to obtain?" The little enchantress winked as she chuckled.

"Alright, I'm off!" However, she did not tease the man any further. With a wave of her hand, after images of her figure rapidly appeared and disappeared, disappearing into the distance several breaths later.

The servant girl could not help but praise as she watched her lady's phantom like movement spells.

"Milady's magic spells definitely stand at the peak of those from the same generation in the Naran Continent."

<Somewhere in Deep Mountains>

This was an eerie mountain, where white bones piled up like hills, the entire area smothered in an aura of the dead.

~CRRAACK~

A sound suddenly rang out from the mountain as a procession of figures lumbered out. Their footsteps were stiff and rigid, skin an unhealthy white and eyes akin to empty holes. At closer inspection, one would realise that there were no signs of life on their bodies.

Almost as if they were dead men.

They carried a huge carriage on their shoulders. The spookily white carriage decorated by ghastly pictures drawn in blood red gave off a strangely sinister aura.

A chilly wind blew past, lifting the white curtains of the carriage. A young bloodlessly-pale face appeared under the curtains. His eyes were the colour of ash and the aura of death seemed to swirl around him, a sight that would make one shiver all over. He was wearing a wide straw hat and beside him was a scythe.

A hundred ghosts carrying a carriage.

The white carriage faded into the distance as an eerily cold voice seemed to echo.

"Go ahead and make your name, O cursed one. Your sufferings have blessed you with a gift that can terrorize the continent. Be the master or... find a master."

Numerous famous geniuses from all across the entire Naran Continent had begun to move. Their target was one and the same, every gaze pointed towards the Spirity Bailiwick at the Guardians of Continent.

As a result, countless gazes from the entire Naran Continent converged on this place.

Everyone wanted to know how amazing it would be when the numerous prided geniuses and elites of the younger generation will clash. The Spirity Bailiwick had already become the focus of the entire continent.

A storm was gathering, and the hidden dragons will naturally begin to reveal themselves.

But little do they know that the existence of a single person will upset them all.

<Territory of Guardians of Continents>

"Set a camp for your people somewhere here, I will guide you to the Spirity City tomorrow for registration," Bipasha said before leaving the group of Bloodfang Kingdom.

The martial masters wandered for a while and eventually found a big enough vacant spot to set their camp, they prepared many things for this journey and tents were one of them.

Ezra Zephyr was given a separate tent to stay in while others shared the space.

The prince sat inside his small tent and sighed, the two cubs yawned and curved beside him, Ezra smiled and gently rubbed their heads, and soon both cute cubs fell asleep, no one can imagine by looking at them how ferocious their true form is.

He looked at the roof of the tent and called his partner. "Fenrir."

"Yes, boy?" The monstrous wolf answered.

"We are getting closer to our goals, right?"

"A tiniest bit but yes."

"...you are such a mood killer."

"Well... that's who I am."

Ezra chuckled and stayed quiet for quite a while prior to saying, "Do you have a skill in your mind for me? There will be dangers from this point on."

"There were dangers before this point as well, but you overcame them. Don't think highly of these failures of the lower realm, just stay cautious and cunning all the time." The wolf said indifferently.

"Hmm... your words sometimes make me wonder how dangerous the upper realm is for you to not consider the lower realm worth anything."

"You will know boy, you will know."

"Haha still not spilling the beans" Ezra laughed again.

Fenrir stayed silent and Ezra closed his eyes to enjoy some slumber.

"Boy..." Fenrir spoke.

Ezra clicked his tongue. "Fuck... let me sleep stupid dog."

"Alright then, I thought you wanted a skill, sleep well..." Fenrir uttered the last words slowly.

"What!?" The prince jerked and stood up. "What kind of skill it is?"

"Oh! You are not sleepy anymore." The wolf mocked.

"Cut the crap Fenrir, answer me." The werewolf became restless.

"I will only give you a single skill just like I gave you a single spell. But the difficulty is tremendous, I'm not sure whether you will achieve the mastery of it or will end up losing your mind." Fenrir was direct with his words.

Ezra squinted his eyes, "What tier this skill is?"

"A skill can not be ranked, it's about mastery of it. Every skill has its own height. Leave this and listen carefully" Fenrir said, his tone was grave. "Are you sure you want this, I didn't lie when I said you might lose your sanity."

"Do you have any other skill as an alternative option?" Prince questioned

Fenrir didn't answer, to which, Ezra said. "I will do it."

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