Boiling Beast Bloodline
Chapter 866 - 196: The King’s Invitation

Chapter 866: Chapter 196: The King’s Invitation

Long time no see, Prince Richard has become even more dashing.

Riding on a four-meter-tall Sword Armor Dragon, His Highness gleamed in his mithril armor, with his dark green cloak and golden hair flying wildly behind him, at this moment, Prince Richard was like the dragon-slaying prince stepping out of a maiden’s dream.

The heavy steps of the Sword Armor Dragon and its sword-like thick long tail made the spacious Royal Capital’s Champs-Élysées suddenly seem much narrower....................................-this bluestone avenue was originally wide enough to accommodate ten carriages abreast.

The trademark nonchalant expression still vividly and stubbornly lingered on His Highness’s face, a measure of a true sovereign distinct from the common people.

Turning the corner was a row of tall and muscular Beamon cavalry, like stars surrounding the moon, enhancing Prince Richard on his Sub-dragon Magical Beast, whose progress was somewhat slow, allowing the Beamon cavalry to swiftly weave around him, their bustle highlighting His Highness’s lofty calm. Against the backdrop of these overly burly Beamon cavalry, Prince Richard atop the Sword Armor Dragon appeared even more wise and martial, commanding awe and respect.

"Where did he find such professional jesters?" Moer quietly pursed her lips and asked Helen, who couldn’t help but laugh.

"Holy Temple Knights can lead the regular army?" Liu was slightly surprised as he began to take a good hard look at His Highness.

The mere fifty Beamon cavalry were clad in excellent steel half-armor; such heavy armored cavalry armor protected the front half of the body like an iron can, while the back was only covered with simple leather armor, making it a practical kind of heavy cavalry armor, after all, heavy cavalry have mostly to charge at others and seldom need to worry about attacks from behind.

In the iron-poor Bimon Kingdom, those who owned such heavy armor were definitely part of the regular army.

These Beamon cavalry had greyish blue crescent moon-shaped horns and long hair, their mounts’ vital areas were covered with simple riveted leather armor, with faint remnants of marred blade marks visible, it was clear that they were not only from the regular army but also seasoned warriors who had experienced many battles.

As the Beamon cavalry approached, each of them carried a shiny double-edged battle axe, their gaze sharper than that of their weapons; the army badge with a long whip coiled around a war sword and a fierce bull’s head on their chests immediately identified them................- it turns out they were the Prime Legion of Bimon, "Whip of the War God", the elite of the elites.

Possibly shaped by the crucible of war, the prince’s demeanor also underwent a series of changes; indeed, war and the battlefield are the best schools for Bimon warriors.

Formerly Prince Richard was at most an Eagle Falcon soaring high, with sharp eyes looking down upon the masses; now, his gaze has become that of a Giant Dragon surveying the skies, his eyes carrying a nonchalant overlook of everything worldly, behind this indifference was a dominance that could unearth others’ insignificance and weakness hidden deep within their souls.

If it weren’t so pretentious, it really would be.

Once this cavalcade appeared near War God Plaza, it instantly captured the attention of all the devotees gathered there, the finest heavy armored cavalry of Beamon and the Liger Prince, many devotees had only heard of them by ear, but seeing them today proved their reputations to be well deserved.

Liu could find no words to describe His Highness the prince’s showiness other than admiration, even he who was already extremely vain, would definitely not be able to do such a thing as release his Sub-dragon mount in the city streets.

Prince Richard, together with the youthful heavy cavalry, silently passed through the War God Plaza, not glancing at anyone with an unspoken pressure about him, he arrived at the fountain nearby, where a group of Fiery Green folks was grilling meat and chatting.

All the devotees were whispering and speculating.............-which revered Shaman had Prince Richard sought out? A few Shi’a distinguished in dark purple Shaman robes and the others in golden ceremonial robes nodded quietly to each other, with Qi Dan being an exception, at this time, he had already hidden in the crowd.

Liu casually crossed his legs on the table, blowing a smoke ring from his mouth and squinting lazily at His Highness.

In front of him lay a mess of slippery and shiny bamboo skewers, two Rabbit Beauties were massaging his shoulders, while Guoguo and his twin sons lay on his stomach, drumming on his "evergreen of winter" belly, making continuous beats. Apart from Helen and Moer who slightly frowned at the prince’s arrival, the rest of the Fiery Green folks continued to laugh and joke around.

Big Fat was leaning against the fountain washing his hair, he turned and smiled at the prince, showing a big gaping mouth.

"Miss Helen," the Liger Prince swept his gaze over all the Beamon before him, finally resting it on Helen. Prince Richard made a courteous bow from his elevated position on the Sword Armor Dragon, greeting the future Great Diviner of Cambridge with cultured composure, "Half a year passed in the blink of an eye, and you remain as stunningly beautiful as ever."

"Thank you for the compliment, Your Highness," Helen responded coolly, her tone neither cold nor warm, without a trace of intimacy.

"I took the liberty of making a decision on Miss Helen’s behalf, your grandfather, Viscount Wolle, has been transferred from the Main Temple to serve in the military department. As a promotion reward, your grandfather has been awarded a lifetime service medal and the title of Earl, he is now the Beastmaster General." Prince Richard patted the Sword Armor Dragon, and the giant Sub-dragon behemoth obediently lowered itself like a tame badger, letting out a low growl before slowly bowing down, allowing Prince Richard to nimbly leap down from the tall saddle.