Crack.

With just a little squeeze, Zeb stopped screaming, his eyes wide open even as he died.

“No!!!” Cram screamed hysterically at the sight of his son’s death, his eyes blood red as he bellowed at him, “Frank Lawrence! You will die for this! Kill him!

Kill him!!!” All of Cram’s men whipped out their weapons, their blades flashing blindingly as they charged at Frank.

Hans was about to move, but Frank stopped him.

“Let me show you what it means to have power,” he growled as the air around him swirled violently, his clothes flapping loudly in turn.

He stepped one foot forward, and shot toward the crowd like a bullet.

With a punch, four men were sent flying–there was no way to withstand the weight of a truck crashing towards them.

Even before blades could reach him, Frank would shattered the edges with nothing more than a gentle flake, his pure vigor flowing around him.

Screams ensued wherever he passed, leaving Hans standing there in shock.

“Mr. Lawrence reached Birthright again?” Frank’s cultivation had been crippled before, but he was now Birthright again in just three years, perhaps even stronger than before.

Truly–once a genius, always a genius.

As Frank took down the fiftyish bodyguards of the Larkins in no time at all, there was not so much as a smear of blood on his hands.

It was as if nothing ever happened.

dumbfounded, no longer feeling terror as

look at him. “Frank Lawrence, apprentice of Mystic Sky Sect–mention my name when you see the reaper.” He waved his

“Mystic Sky Sect? Y– You’re Donn Lawrence?!” He never could have dreamed of provoking Donn Lawrence, the man who topped

to have been killed three years

that

Scarless Gorm

beckoned at Hans, who nodded

it was another

his hands clasped behind his back. “Keep it clean.” “Understood.”

the Larkins were wiped out overnight, Helen was left

only to be told that he and his

next morning, she visited Frank’s hilltop mansion again… only for Winter to receive

Winter asked, still in her pajamas and

accentuated by the black figure– hugging

a pretty face like Winter in Frank’s house,

raised a brow. Why were there always pretty ladies here every day, looking for

Crack.

screaming, his eyes wide open

eyes blood red as he bellowed at him, “Frank Lawrence! You will die

their weapons, their blades flashing blindingly

was about to move, but Frank stopped

it means to have power,” he growled as the air around him swirled violently, his clothes flapping

forward, and shot toward the

punch, four men were sent flying–there was no way

the edges with nothing

passed, leaving Hans standing

cultivation had been crippled before, but he was

genius,

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