Boiling Beast Bloodline
Chapter 114 - 114 1 In the Name of Freedom_1

114: Chapter 1 In the Name of Freedom_1 114: Chapter 1 In the Name of Freedom_1 Money can make the dead grind corn.

—- An old saying from the Aegean Continent.

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Prince Richard and Helen shared a tender farewell outside Witherspoon City.

For some unknown reason, the prince summoned his knightly mount, a Sub-dragon beast covered in sword-like bone armor.

The sunset was blood-red, and the wilderness stretched far into the distance.

The majestic Magical Beast mount, the virile Prince Richard, and the naturally enchanting Helen formed a scene straight out of a myth or an opera: a knight and his lady.

The fierce wind on the wilderness made the prince’s golden hair whip about, and the delicate scent of the Fox Tribe girl lingered at his nostrils.

The valor in the prince’s eyes had disappeared, replaced only by a tender affection.

By their side, Liu Zhenhan looked like a savage just stepped out of legend.

Behind the savage, a group of pandas armed to the teeth were standing, looking at him respectfully as he picked his teeth.

At lunch that afternoon, while the prince was busy showing off, Liu Zhenhan only cared about devouring his food.

As a result, once the prince finished speaking and lowered his head, he found no food left on the table.

“Thank you for taking such good care of me today!” Helen spoke to the prince in a very reserved manner: “Your Highness, thanks to you, this country fox finally got a taste of big city life.”

“Helen, may I have one of your gloves to keep in my helmet?” Prince Richard’s eyes were like ripe summer fruit – heavy, intense.

Liu Zhenhan, that bumpkin, was clueless that the prince’s words were actually a direct marriage proposal.

Bimon knights traditionally kept a glove of their beloved inside their helmets.

He continued belching, waiting for the prince to finish so they could get going.

The wind grew stronger, and the wild grass in the distance rolled like waves.

Liu Zhenhan flicked meat crumbs from his fingers onto the prince’s well-sculpted body.

“The God of War Kampas said: ‘Do not be blinded by beauty.

My dear prince, it has been an honor to accept your kindness.'” Helen smiled faintly, tactfully rejecting the prince’s passionate gaze.

“I’m going to apply to the temple to be your guardian knight, Helen, at least until you come of age.

After all, a young sacrificer like you is a rare treasure to the kingdom.” Prince Richard had started thinking about abusing his position.

“Your Highness, I already have a dragon sacrificer apprentice and a large number of followers, so I refuse your kind offer.” Helen gave a sweet smile and signaled Liu Zhenhan and the others that it was time to leave.

Only the prince was left, standing alone in the wind, gazing dumbly at the red ribbon that was gradually disappearing into the wilderness.

Liu Zhenhan lay on a cart pulled by wild boars, chewing on a grass stem and tossing about bags of money, feeling exceptionally cheerful.

His song of triumph resonated across the wilderness.

“Although I don’t understand what you’re singing, I can tell your singing is terrible,” Helen furrowed her brow.

“Nonsense,” retorted Liu Zhenhan without batting an eye, “This song is my tribute to the God of War.”

“Richard, it’s recorded on page 184 of ‘Ceremonial Code’ that 324 years ago, an odd Chekin tribe chicken-head sacrificer emerged in Bimon Temple.

He inherited and created a new war song.

To test the power of this war song, he sang it to his tribespeople every day.

This practice led to the corruption of the Chekin women, who gradually became notorious prostitutes in the Bimon tribe.

This odd sacrificer was eventually burned to death by the temple.” Helen, who had been flipping through the “Ceremonial Code”, looked up at him and showed him the page she was pointing at.

“So, the Chekin tribe was basically a group of prostitutes?

Obischillaci!

That’s whoring!” Liu Zhenhan bolted upright in his cart, looked at Avril, and they both began laughing uproariously.

“Richard, can’t you be serious for once?” Ning Yu seemed to dislike Liu Zhenhan’s carefree demeanor.

“Don’t you think this is funny?” Liu Zhenhan could hardly hold back his laughter.

“Pages 180 to 190 of ‘Ceremonial Code’ are all about these kinds of peculiar sacrificers.

Just like human undead mages, these unconventional sacrificers are also heretics in Bimon.

If their identity was discovered, they would undoubtedly be burned to death by the temple.” Helen’s words quickly extinguished Liu Zhenhan’s excitement about creating a new war song.

“Tsk…” Liu Zhenhan grumbled, “I think the decline in Bimon’s population is exactly because they’re missing these war songs.”

“Stop it!” Helen pinched his nose and tugged it back and forth, “Haven’t you heard Instructor Cui Beixi explain the reasons for the sparse Bimon population?

Stop spreading nonsense!

Besides, your war songs are not the same as those of the peculiar sacrificers.

Although you use a foreign language to chant, the effect is still that of an authentic Bimon war song, and it has not deviated from the right path.

Based on this, I will supervise you.

I absolutely won’t let you fall into such a situation.”

Ignoring her, Liu Zhenhan played with his money return-stub, jingling coins in his hand.

“By the way, where did you get so much money from all of a sudden?

I saw you give quite a bit of money to some Bimon beggars at the city gate earlier.

Where’d you get the money from?” Ning Yu asked in surprise.