The First Heir

Wynn was wearing a pair of high heels. When she walked to Philip, her heels clicked on the ground like a piano recital. She looked panic-stricken.

She was a woman, after all. The smell of blood was in the air, and there were broken arms scattered all over the floor. Each severed limb was covered in blood. She wanted to vomit, but she held it in.

30 to 40 men were trying to chop someone up in broad daylight. The scene looked like a warzone, and the ground was painted with blood.

If Philip were not here, she could not imagine what would have happened instead.

Philip looked at Wynn who was standing next to him. There was a gentle smile on his face.

Just like that, under everyone’s watchful gaze, Philip reached out an arm and grabbed Wynn’s tiny waist.

Wynn shivered. She looked at Philip in disbelief.

Was Philip still her spineless husband?

When did he have these skills? He looked like an assassin in the movies.

Philip chuckled and grabbed Wynn’s hand. He asked, “Are you ready?”

Wynn furrowed her brows and let out a long exhale. “I’m ready.”

Then, Philip walked out with Wynn while everyone watched.

An unexplainable feeling rose into Wynn’s heart when Philip grabbed her hand. The worries in her heart vanished in an instant.

front of them all backed away and made way for

were petrified. Philip had the air of the God of Death radiating from

being clenched so tightly. He grabbed his saber and pointed at Philip who was approaching him. He yelled, “Chop him to pieces! Whoever kills him, I’ll let

said that, someone finally

a streamline. With a thud, he fell and rolled

were backing away, Mitch’s heart

stood forward.

Clank!

sound of knives making contact with each other resounded, then a broken blade flew across the air and landed on the floor. It produced a

against Mitch’s neck. The bloody knife slashed a thin red line on his neck. Blood

was shaking uncontrollably. His left hand was still holding the knife in a chopping position, but the blade of the knife

forehead was drenched in cold sweat and beads of it were rolling down his face like a waterfall. At this moment, he felt that

He had lost

he was holding the hand of the beautiful woman. He had a knife against Mitch’s neck,

looked into Philip’s eyes briefly and he could feel his entire body going cold. His eyes were like sharp knives. It broke his final

trembling all over. He was feeling the threat of death so up close that it even made him

him? It was the normal reaction to being faced

his nose and snorted. “Sir Mitch, I don’t think you can do well in the face of fear. Why? Do you

with his sweat. He did not

wanted so badly to kneel and beg for mercy from this

this God of Death? He was really digging his

dangerous

he thought back to how he threatened Philip just now, he was truly asking for