Zephyr’s storm enveloped the three men, catching them in its electrical tempest. In a split second, the three of them were fried by the intense currents, rendering them into nothing but black corpses that were charred from the burns. Zephyr smiled at the black bodies he had made, he had waited a long time for them. The Ninth Prince had almost taken his life, Zephyr wanted to make him pay. However, he would not kill the prince just like that. No, he would make him wail in despair in the face of death.

Zephyr took the men’s scoreboards, before noticing the small bag on the ground. He inspected it, finding it to not only have some scoreboards, but also some rare treasures. No wonder the man earlier was reluctant to part with it. “I’ve already taken one of the royal squads out, that just leaves the others,” Zephyr said slowly.

The Land of Despair was a vast land. It would be hard for anyone to find the other squads in this place. Though, this was nothing to Zephyr Khan. He had the ability to even detect minute changes in the air, due to his electrical powers. He was so sure that the other fighters could do the same, but not to the excruciating detail that Zephyr could. ‘The hunt goes on!’ Zephyr thought, and vanished into thin air. Suddenly, he appeared once more a mile away. He vanished once again, leaving no trace that he was ever there.

“Die!”

“Sh*t!”

Cries of fear and agony came after, though it was nothing new in the Land of Despair.

“Who the f*ck are you?!” a young man with a sword demanded, staring angrily at another. Corpses were littered around him. The assailant was no older than sixteen, yet he was extremely powerful. No one could defend against him. In the blink of an eye, all the man’s comrades were killed. “Your destiny!” Zephyr said as he stepped forward with Draken in hand. Electricity surged through the blade. “His Highness will avenge us!” the young man spat at Zephyr. “Really? I’ll be waiting then!” Zephyr said as he stared off into the distance, smiling. A great boom came thereafter, shaking the earth.

“Damn it, damn it, damn it, damn it! How are my squads falling one by one? Seven of them are gone now! Who dares attack a royal!” the Ninth Prince demanded angrily, though taking care not to soil his fine clothing. He was absolutely livid. Around him were the gathered corpses of his men. In just seven days, seven squads were killed. Seven squads full of skilled fighters were destroyed. Not even the prince himself could manage this with such speed. Besides, his squads were scattered throughout the land, how were they so easily hunted down?

“The attacks were decisive, finishing the battles in one blow. He might be coming for you, Your Highness,” a man said slowly. It was the Sun guardian. “Coming for me?” the Ninth Prince repeated, looking at the guardian. “These wounds, they are sword wounds. They look familiar!” the guardian continued. As a skilled swordsman himself, he could deduce the methods of these killings. “Familiar?” the prince repeated as he frowned. He further inspected the bodies; their wounds, their cuts. His expression changed thereafter, “It’s… him?”