Boiling Beast Bloodline
Chapter 876 - 199 Strong Backing_3

Chapter 876: Chapter 199 Strong Backing_3

Prince Richard no longer held the lofty and handsome appearance he had displayed on War God Plaza, as if he was a dragon-slaying prince from a maiden’s dream. Now, though he still belonged in a maiden’s dream, the dreamer would surely be an ogre or Koutao Merfolk.

His armor was in tatters, his clothes torn, his eyes fierce, his hairstyle strange, and his body covered with grotesque scars...................All these scars were external; while they looked terrifying, they were superficial and mainly just unsightly.

Liu Zhenhan aimed for exactly this effect. If he truly killed the prince, his time as a priest would surely come to an end.

"Enough!" Prince Richard, "do you intend to attack a priest in front of me?" Brut spoke with unparalleled authority as he watched the prince approach step by unyielding step. "Up to now, Richard has made no move to attack you! And your demeanor does not seem to fit that of a humble clergyman! Disputes can be settled through appeals and arbitrations. Haven’t you seen that I’ve brought two emissaries from the religious deacons?"

"Remember your role!" Brut intensified his tone. "You are a Holy Temple Knight who serves the War God, a clergyman! Any conflicts among the clergy are to be resolved internally within the temple!"

Prince Richard showed no intent to stop, his breathing heavy and murky, his eyes bloodshot. With a spin, his great sword flashed a cold light as he growled in a hoarse, beast-like voice, "Piegel, today you are surely dead! No matter who is protecting you, I will turn your head into a wine vessel! I swear!"

"I command you, Sir Richard, to halt your advance immediately." Brut watched the prince closely.

Prince Richard stubbornly continued forward.

With a sharp "snap," an arrow with a carved plume struck the bluestone pavement five steps in front of the prince, penetrating half a foot deep, its tail quivering ceaselessly. Ice and flames flickered along the shaft, and with a "crackle," tiny sparks and frost dust erupted, dazzling like fireworks.

"In the presence of the Holy Pontiff, you shall not act recklessly!" Nedved shouted, his hands already stringing four arrows on his Saracen Flame Bow, aimed at the regal head of the prince.

"Magic Archer!" The Lionheart Prince’s pupils suddenly expanded, a low roar escaping him.

"Do you dare shoot a prince?" The clearly uncontrollable prince turned, staring at Nedved with the eyes of a fanatic, beating his chest hard. "Do you dare? Hauss! Have the guts to show me by shooting an arrow!"

"Come five steps closer to Lord Feilengcui and the Holy Pontiff, and you’ll see if I dare." Nedved replied with a cold laugh.

"Why wouldn’t I dare!" Prince Richard, dragging his great sword, took big strides toward Brut.

On War God Plaza, many of the Altar Sacrificial Ceremony attendees took off their own pet badges, squinting sharply at Prince Richard.

Prince Richard keenly sensed the hostility around him and after taking four steps, he halted, turning to sweep his gaze around, his eyes reflecting boundless madness as a deep growl escaped his throat.

His provocation clearly intensified the others’ misinterpretation of him, and at least twenty high-ranking Bimon warriors spontaneously took up weapons and stood by the side of the Crimson High Priest, countless ranged fighters readied their bows and arrows, spears, and slingshots, aiming their chilling gleams at the prince.

The two colossal horned serpent emissaries also positioned themselves at the Holy Pontiff’s flanks, their lifeless eyes staring at the prince as if he were a mere frog.

Prince Richard, as if struck by lightning, stared dumbfounded at Piegel, who was crouched behind the Crimson High Priest. With all his martial prowess, moving forward another step was impossible, for it would cast immense suspicion of an assassination attempt on the Holy Pontiff—a crime more than enough to justify the outright execution of a prince.

"Stop at once! Sir Richard!" Lord Mourinho came forward trying to mediate. "Waving weapons in front of the Crimson High Priest, do you want to end up on the pyre? Abandon your momentary folly! Quickly apologize to Brut!"

"I demand a duel with him!" Prince Richard, disheveled, pointed his great sword at the smug Liu Zhenhan, his throat sounding as if he was scraping the bottom of a worn and leaky pot.

"A duel with a priest? Are you sure you can handle Richard’s followers and magical beasts alone?" Mourinho was both exasperated and amused, constantly cursing the foolishness of the young prince in his heart.