King of Titans and Dragons
Chapter 1065 - 1065 1052 Will you go down yourselves or

Chapter 1065: Chapter 1052: Will you go down yourselves, or shall I throw you down? Chapter 1065: Chapter 1052: Will you go down yourselves, or shall I throw you down? Ooooo———

The melodious sound of a war horn traveled from afar, awakening Muria, who was meditating in his palace. He slowly opened his eyes, showing a hint of resignation, then closed them again.

Around his body, more than ten spirit flows, black and red like serpentine coils, slithered around him before they all surged into his body.

Muria concluded his meditation for the day because once the military horn sounded, continuing his meditation would double the difficulty.

Over the years, he had heard these war horns many times—sometimes once a month, and other times, the longest span being six months. Each sounding of the horn marked the beginning of a war.

Muria had grown accustomed to and understood these frequent wars. Given the countless nations in this region, any trivial matter could ignite a conflict.

Although these wars were contained to about ten thousand combatants, making them akin to feuds between two villages within the empire he established in the world of Erathia, in Muria’s view, they barely counted as wars.

Although the number of combatants was somewhat paltry and the scale of battle smaller, Muria was astounded by the frequency of the combats—it was far too frequent.

Whenever the military horn sounded, troops were rallied and dispatched; at such times, the previously deployed army had generally not yet been called back.

Muria was unconcerned with such matters. Given Gai Nation’s deep reserves, it would not perish even after losing dozens of battles, though it would certainly be gravely weakened.

His only annoyance was that he couldn’t continue his meditation after the military horn sounded because the sound had a special effect, making his internal power lively and enter an excited state.

In battle, hearing this horn could enhance a soldier’s combat power by about ten to thirty percent. However, during meditation, a sudden increase in power made him feel the urge to blurt out profanities.

Though Muria’s control was sufficient to continue meditating, it wasn’t worth it. The effort did not match the reward, and furthermore, his siblings would all come out to join the commotion.

Every military rally was a relaxed and enjoyable leisure time for underage royals who weren’t yet required to perform their duties. Thus, aside from Muria, other royals loved the melodious sound of the military horn.

The five-year-old Muria stood up from his bed and as he stepped off, his feet still not touching the ground, a wave of black spirit lifted his body aloft.

The small stature of this child, treading on a surge of black spirit off the ground, cast a scene. Though Muria had a sunny appearance, the power he wielded cloaked him with the aura of a villain, hardly looking like a good person.

However, Muria didn’t care whether he looked like a good person. He knew that his current posture, whether it looked good or felt right, was quite on point. Even if he looked like a villain, he was a dashing one.

Muria left the sleeping chambers and walked toward the Royal Palace’s walls, which soared fifty meters high. He could guess without looking that the walls would be packed with royals whose meditation had been interrupted by the horn and who had run there to see the excitement.

“This is the spot I saved for Older Prince Arnold, you guys can’t stand here,” a small, plump boy, standing on an observation tower with an excellent view of the departing army, exclaimed to several taller royals around him, jumping up and down, his face filled with grievance.

“Older Prince? Which Older Prince? Aren’t we your Older Princes? Since you saved the spot for an Older Prince, giving it to us would be just the same,”

a child, a head taller than the plump boy, looked down at him with an impatient tone. The spectacle of troops departing was a rare sight.

“I meant Arnold, not you guys,” the plump boy’s face turned fierce, and a faint black glow emerged around him.

“Arnold, huh!” Hearing the plump boy, a lean boy nearby suddenly showed an amused look, “You mean the one who scored the best in every test, that Arnold?”

“Exactly.” Hearing that the unfamiliar Older Prince knew his big brother, the plump boy lifted his head proudly.

“Haha, so you’re that Opuno, the royal embarrassment who, although older, calls him Older Prince?” a child about seven or eight years old scrutinized the chubby boy in front of him with a hint of mockery.

Ferdinand had many offspring, but the term ‘many’ is only relative to how many children a royal might typically have, and in reality, more than a hundred isn’t that many.

When these people lived in the same building, no matter who did something impressive or something out of the ordinary, almost all royal family members who were even slightly well-informed would know about it.

Therefore, the deed of Opuno, the little fatty who was tricked by Muria and to this day still unrepentant about recognizing the younger Arnold as his Older Prince, was undoubtedly a joke discussed by various royal family members during tea and after dinner.

“No matter what he does, he surpasses me. What’s wrong with calling him Older Prince?” Opuno, the little fatty, argued defensively, his face flushed. In his heart, he believed that calling Arnold, who was merely six months younger than himself, an Older Prince was nothing inappropriate.

“Truly a disgrace to the royals. Disregards hierarchy, does not feel ashamed but proud instead,” a boy sneered, waving his hand dismissively to shoo the little fatty aside.

“I am saving this seat for the Older Prince. If you dare take his things, you’ll have me to answer to,” Opuno threatened with a forced ferocity.

He knew this was not the time to show weakness or back down. He hadn’t provoked these people, but their approaching him had a clear and ominous implication.

In this repressive atmosphere within the Royal Palace, once someone is seen as an easy target, what follows could be extremely miserable. One could even disappear forever with just a slight misstep.

“Using Arnold to scare us?” The boy laughed upon hearing Opuno’s threat, his eyes filled with disdain, “Sure, I have heard of his reputation and would like to see it for myself. Let him come to me when he arrives. I want to see what he can do against me, his Older Prince.”

Already turning his back to watch the departing army, the boy waved his hand impatiently, his tone and posture full of contempt. Among the royals, fraternal respect was non-existent; they mostly had competitive relationships.

Though according to the news he had already learned that Arnold was an extremely capable fellow, performing better than they had at that age, that was only a comparison among those of the same age.

But the real situation now was, he was nearly three years older than Arnold, and he didn’t believe that Arnold could have any advantage with such an age gap.

If this Younger Prince really dared to challenge him, he wouldn’t mind teaching him with his fist the correct way to address an Older Prince.

“What do you want from me?” At that moment, a young, but incredibly steady voice came through.

With eyes red and tears nearly falling, the little fatty Opuno looked up in surprise at Muria who had floated three meters above the ground, excitedly shouting, “Older Prince!”

“What’s happening? Are they bullying you?” Muria frowned, looking at the shameless little fatty who kept calling him Older Prince.

Although he had never acknowledged this guy as his younger brother, in the eyes of others, this fellow had already been labeled as his tag-along. Thus, in a way, to hit this little fatty was akin to slapping his own face, and Muria could not ignore that under any circumstances.

No matter which world he descended upon, even during his stealthier phases of development, Muria would never let anyone consider him an easy target.

To endure silently for gradual accumulation and growth, being bullied by others was absolutely out of the question for him. Whoever tried to test him or wanted to challenge him, he would respond with the toughest stance.

“No, but they took the spot I was saving for you.” The little fatty, who had already been preparing to run down from the watchtower to complain to Muria, reported to him instead.

“Just the two of you wanting to occupy a spot, don’t you think it’s too much wanting the best watchtower?”

Having been ready to find an excuse to teach him a lesson upon seeing Muria, the boy now had second thoughts upon seeing Muria’s majestic entrance and started reasoning with him.

Hearing this little brat’s words, Muria did not respond but surveyed the five people who had run up to this watchtower – three men and two women. At that moment, the other four were intently watching the army’s ceremony below, completely oblivious to everything happening behind them, acting as if Muria didn’t exist, exuding arrogance.

“They’ve come looking for trouble!” Muria noted, eyeing the tall, slender girl standing in the center, squinting slightly, quickly confirming her identity and the nature of this incident.

“Are you going to roll down yourselves, or should I throw you down?” Muria spoke, his tone laden with dominance and irrefutability, now that he confirmed these people were here to cause trouble, there was no need for pretenses.

“Arnold, remember your identity. Is this how you speak to us? Don’t you think you are being too presumptuous?” The boy held back the impulse to look back for help upon seeing Muria walking on air, and scolded him.

“Identity? Weren’t you just here to pick a fight?”