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.

them all backed away and made way for them. None of them dared to touch this

petrified. Philip had the air of the God of Death radiating from his body. His imposing manner caused

fists. They were turning purple from being clenched so tightly. He grabbed his saber and pointed at Philip who was approaching him. He yelled, “Chop him to pieces!

he said that, someone

backward like a streamline. With a thud, he fell and

brothers who were backing away, Mitch’s heart was engulfed

knife and stood forward.

Clank!

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

knife slashed a

knife in a chopping position, but the blade of the knife was

sweat and beads of it were rolling down his face

shaking. He had

a knife against Mitch’s neck, yet his face was calm. It was as if he would take his

His eyes were like sharp knives. It broke his final line of defense, and at this moment, he felt like he was taking the most difficult walk in

feeling the threat of death so up close that

laugh at him? It was the normal reaction

don’t think you can do well in the face of fear. Why? Do you still want to take my

clothes were already drenched with his sweat. He did not have the imposing

to kneel and beg for mercy

did he cross this God

so dangerous for just

Philip