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.

Cram was completely dumbfounded, no longer feeling terror as

a cool look at him. “Frank Lawrence, apprentice of Mystic Sky Sect–mention my name when

he lay on the floor. “Mystic Sky Sect? Y– You’re Donn Lawrence?!” He never could have dreamed of provoking Donn Lawrence,

three

that the freak

Scarless Gorm recognized him, and that meant

Hans, who nodded and swung his

that, it was another

that, Frank turned to leave, his hands clasped behind his

the Larkins were wiped

Zeb arrested, only to be told that he and his entire

visited Frank’s hilltop mansion again… only for

Winter asked, still in her pajamas and groggy from sleep

was pretty and had a perfect figure, accentuated by the black figure– hugging

a pretty face like Winter in Frank’s house, and she looked young- as if

brow. Why were there always pretty

Crack.

squeeze, Zeb stopped screaming, his

Cram screamed hysterically at the sight of his son’s death, his eyes blood red as he bellowed at him,

their weapons, their blades flashing blindingly

to move, but Frank

he growled as the air around him swirled

shot toward the crowd like

way to withstand the weight of a

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

passed, leaving Hans standing there

had been crippled before, but he was now Birthright again in

genius, always

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