Renard chuckled coolly, presuming that it had to be the only reason.

As one of the Ten Hellions of South Draconia, his might was naturally above questioning.

Moreover, he was actually in his sixties, and he actually looked like a younger man since he had always maintained his training routine.

And since there was no one who had reached the Ascendant rank below sixty in Draconia, save for the freaks of the major sects, Renard prided himself with his accomplishment. Moreover, those major sects would always keep their freaks close, hiding them within their respective enclaves.

They would certainly not allow them to run around causing trouble just like Frank here.

What was that if not suicidal?

"Brat, I don't know who has your back, but I'll spare you if you go down on your knees, kowtow to Mr. Droitner ten times, and surrender the Bloodcrane Spiritbloom."

Frank, who was already sick of such threats, chuckled coolly. "What, not feeling confident about yourself?"

don't really

Then why don't you

walking toward Renard,

toward Huub in the distance. "So,

at Frank's arrogance. "You'll be sobbing when you fall before

as he could see that

his hand, conjuring a javelin of pure vigor and launching it

of Ascendant ranks, projecting their

ground and held up a hand, breaking

"Hmm...?"

when he saw how easily

"Get him!"

to get going impatiently, seeing how insolent Frank was.

all his pure vigor, focusing them into his hand

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