This group of four was a strong bunch, each was a Strength of level nine at the very least. “Why do you resist, boy? Just give us your scoreboard, and we will let you go! You must realize that offending the Ninth Prince is a terrible idea!” one of the pursuers called out. He was dressed in a purple robe, and possessed great power. With a flick of his wrist, their target’s attack was broken. “F*ck off! I would rather give my scoreboard to others, than that dog of a prince!” the young man replied. His attitude was terribly fiery as he cursed without a second thought.
“How dare you! Cloudsmasher!” The man sent a palm out, and it crushed the younger man’s body. “Die!” The younger man could only grimace and struggle as he felt the force from the attack that wrapped around him. Suddenly, he realized that there was someone sitting cross-legged further up ahead. That person was calm and collected, unknowing of the happenings around him. “F*ck it! Here, take this!” the younger man gritted his teeth, tossing his scoreboard to the cross-legged person.
“Die!” the pursuer who attacked cried out, putting more force into his grasp. In an instant, the younger man was crushed, and fell to the ground dead. The royal squad thought the man who received the scoreboard would be gone by now, yet he had made no moves since. This excited them, they quickly went to surround him.
The man before them looked to be sixteen. He wore a long black robe. They wondered if he was asleep, as he did not react to the four men around him. “Heh heh heh, this brat didn’t run! Thanks for saving us the energy, friend!” the pursuer who murdered the man earlier said with a big smile. “Indeed. With these 50,000 points, plus the others we’ve collected so far, no doubt the prince would win this!” another said. They all laughed and rejoiced, uncaring of the young man before them.
The tossed scoreboard landed next to the young man. One of the pursuers reached for it. Suddenly, a cold gust of wind came, the speed of which shocked them all. “Oh no!” the man said. Before he could react, he let out a cry as he was split in half. His blood splattered all across the floor. The young man’s eyes shot open, and stared daggers towards the other three, his gaze sharp enough to cut air itself. He brought down a strong force upon the remaining three.
“A royal team?” the young man asked. “You brat! Who do you think you are?!” one of the men asked. “He… He’s…” suddenly, another man spoke. He shivered as he did. He recognized him. “Zephyr Khan?!”
As they cried out in confusion, Zephyr had made his move. He was as fast as lightning.