The Atrocious Werewolf Prince

~SSIIPP~

The one who had drunk the wine first wore a bright golden cloak. He had a handsome face, brownish hair and beast eyes, while an aura of dignity spread from his body. It was the crown prince of the Brownmane Empire, Benedict Brownmane.

In front of Benedict, a similar hand, picked up the other cup and took a soundless sip.

"The opening of the Sects Admissions approaches, when will you be leaving?" Asked Benedict.

The young man in front of him lifted his head and looked at the person before him.

He was a young man in red, his pretty face has an uncanny resemblance to Benedict but for some unknown reason his attraction paled the beauty of Benedict, he was akin to a painting, his skin seemingly sparkling like translucent snow.

He had a pair of long and narrow red eyes, the only thing contrasting Benedict. When he narrowed them slightly, two presences could be felt from him. One of an angel that can pierce the sadness of the world while the other is that of a demon, descended to rise chaos.

Long fine brown hair flowed down along his slender waist before ultimately touching his hips, bewitching every living thing. Only such words could describe the young man's face.

"I will be leaving tomorrow."

He slowly said.

"You are a genius born of this country, do not waste the talent destiny has given you, Victor," Benedict said. The young man was the younger brother of Benedict and 2nd son of Bruce, Prince Victor Brownmane.

"Each person has their own destiny and one should never force destiny, the way I am living is the occurrence of destiny as well," The young man in red said while looking at the cup he emptied.

"You will surpass me and everyone else if you manage to obtain the greatest gift of the Spirity Bailiwick," Benedict said as he filled the empty cup of his brother.

Victor emotionlessly said, "It will definitely be mine."

Benedict seemed to sigh softly. "Too much arrogance is not good. Naran Continent's current batch of the younger generation has never been of higher quality.

The Human cultivator from the Jolten Empire, who was given every resource to improve his sword cultivation by the human king himself.

The Bearmen Tribe's young lord from the Striped Beast Empire is said to be capable of destroying rocks with his hands.

The genius prince of Striped Beast Empire is no less than that bearmen young lord"

The Battle Maniac Dwarf from the Dwarven Empire"

The Enchantress elf from the Elfpatria and many more we are unaware of."

The man in a golden cloak one sipped the wine and said in worry. "All of these individuals are prided geniuses that the various factions have poured all of their resources into for the sake of the Spirity Bailiwick."

Benedict became quiet for a while before saying softly. "The world will soon know of a ferocious beast that has been sharpening his fangs and claws since his childhood."

"Thank you for praise brother, but I do not have fangs nor claws." Replied Victor in a joking manner.

"The beast is not referred to you."

~BAAANNG~

The table broke and the leftover wine in the bottle spilt all over.

The subsequent silence in the pavilion only lasted for a split second. In the next instant, raging qi abruptly exploded from Victor's body like an erupting volcano, turning the entire table to ashes.

The numerous kneeling servant girls outside the pavilion trembled, not daring to make even the tiniest sound.

They could feel just how furious their esteemed 2nd prince currently was at this very moment.

They very rarely saw their prince, who usually did not show any emotions on his face, lose his composure.

Victor was still seated on the chair, but his handsome face had turned exceptionally stormy as he stared at his elder brother and demanded in an icy voice. "What are you trying to say, brother Benedict? Who else but me is worthy of standing on the top of the world?!"

Victor's expression was ominously dark. Qi inside his body violently surged around him like waves on a stormy night, wave after wave emerging from his body and shaking the entire pavilion.

However, his piercing gaze and Qi pressure seemed to have no effect on the man in the golden cloak. He stared at the ashes that had once been the beautiful table as he somewhat disappointedly put down the cup in his hand.

The crown prince indifferently said, "Victor, this is my advice to you. Do not overlook that person."

"Which person?" He asked in anger.

"The crown prince of werewolves." He said every word loudly to make his younger brother remember it well.

"That cripple? Brother, you have disappointed me."

"Don't forget that he is ultimately the source of our blessings. From a certain point of view, he is the one who made us, but since we managed to take the initiative, it will be best to maintain vigilance at all times."

Victor chuckled. "Don't lump me together with yourself brother, you are the one who stole his spirit not me. I am a genius born with a perfect body and a 6th-grade spirit. Well, you have to be careful though, that's if you don't want it to be taken back in the end."

The words hit like arrows, fire burned in Benedict's eyes as he retorted, "I am far ahead for that man to do anything to me."

Victor continued "Listen, brother, I've told you this more than once. Stop it with the belief that we stole his spirit. We were merely retrieving what belongs to us!"

The young man in a golden cloak shot him a calm look as he responded, "The crippled prince you speak of has quelled Warborn Kingdom and Tribbain Kingdom a month ago. Even the numerous martial masters and resources I secretly invested as support ultimately lost.

Moreover, that so-called crippled prince personally led the army in the conquest of cities."

Victor let out an icy chuckle. "From the information I've obtained, that crippled prince only has the strength of the 2nd stage of the Qi Brightening stage and had relied on the power of a weak strategy to avoid direct confrontation.

You and I should clearly understand that there will definitely be consequences if he only has brains to use, such power cannot be used without martial prowess.

Therefore, that crippled werewolf probably had no choice but to resort to such a measure. Who knows whether he suffered injuries in the war and died?

As for conquering Warborn and Tribbain" The corners of Victor's mouth lifted in a mocking manner as he continued, "A battle between ants does not enter my eyes."