Man on the ark, forced to become king

"Gentlemen, now is not the time for idle chatter."

Suddenly, a series of footsteps approached rapidly. Dasmi, shrouded in a thin mist, ran across the explosion, his face full of anxiety.

"The city guards are already gathering here. The entire city is now under lockdown. The patrol teams are outside and will be entering soon. We need to leave quickly."

"As expected."

W had anticipated this outcome, and she had also planned to keep Dassim in the family. As an insider of the Lucches family, he had ample reason to infiltrate the Lucches family after their arrival and provide them with support.

Even without the city defense cannons, a street brawl would definitely have attracted the attention of the city's administrators.

"Those who can move, hurry up and leave. We don't have time to deal with that werewolf now, we'll talk about him later. Let's go first."

"Ah."

Texas and Lappland exchanged a glance, neither of them objecting. Anyone with a modicum of sense would not want to stay here and face the regular army responsible for defending the entire city. It would be like a mantis trying to stop a chariot, and would be pointless except for sending themselves to their deaths.

However, before they could make a move, the lingering smoke and dust in the air seemed to be dispersed by some invisible force and pressed down to the ground. A chilling pressure swept over them, mixed with a faint smell of blood, causing everyone to stop in their tracks.

da~

da~

da~

The sound of leather shoes tapping on the hard surface grew louder as they approached, each step seeming to traverse an immense distance.

In an instant, the three Syracuses present felt an extreme sense of danger, as if something was staring at them, and a bone-chilling cold emanated from every inch of the surrounding space, like sharp blades pointed at them.

W didn't feel that way, but still felt very uncomfortable, as if she was soaking in an extremely viscous liquid, and even moving her arms became difficult.

da~

da~

da~

The footsteps continued to approach, a slender shadow treading through the dispersing dust, gray hair fluttering in the breeze, an aged face filled with anger.

"Leave? None of you can leave."

As his words fell, a dark and violent aura swept over like a hurricane, as if even the light had dimmed at that moment.

The air rippled and distorted, and a dark red shadow appeared out of nowhere, coalescing into a colossal object tens of meters tall behind the old man.

That was a wolf.

Chapter Twenty: The Golden Tree Blossoms from Flesh and Blood

Terra is home to numerous races, such as the Sarkaz, Sarkaz, Ursus, Pero, Rupert, Saffra, Felin, Vayvan, and many more. Among them are strong and weak, with vastly different strengths between the powerful and the weak. As a result, many ways of classifying strength have emerged throughout the long course of history.

Basically, every country, and even every large company and organization, has its own classification system and a relatively complete strength system.

However, the classification of strength that has evolved over time is not entirely accurate, because there are many factors that determine strength, and neither pure destructive power nor power with completely different manifestations can be clearly quantified.

Originium Arts, which excel at manipulating water, become significantly less effective in a waterless desert. Similarly, the ability to manipulate fire is less effective in icy and snowy conditions.

Therefore, the so-called division of strength can mostly only be considered a judgment factor or a label, with limited practical significance.

However, among the many classification criteria, there is one that has been recognized by most people since ancient times, and that is the embodiment of bloodline.

—When powerful individuals from different races unleash their full potential, they manifest the image of their ancient ancestors hidden within their bloodline. This signifies that their understanding of their own bloodline has reached a profound level, representing unparalleled control over their power.

Those who can achieve this level are fundamentally different from ordinary people. Their life level has reached another level, enabling them to do all sorts of incredible things, and they can even form an army by themselves.

If we go a step further, and the summoned bloodline shadow transforms from illusion into reality, then even the least combat-savvy support and healing abilities can unleash tremendous destructive power—the ancestral shadow manifesting in the world as a colossal creature is itself an extremely powerful weapon, far beyond the reach of ordinary people.

The crimson giant wolf that appeared atop the bombed ruins was such a creature.

Staring into those blood-red pupils, everyone present felt their scalp tingle and their breathing unconsciously slowed down.

That is the instinctive fear of the weak towards the strong.

Predators from a higher level can pose a deadly threat to weaker creatures simply by their scent.

"Two cubs, a traitor, and the Sarkaz."

The old man had no weapons in his hands, or rather, he simply stood there, and the invisible air became the most terrifying blade.

He approached slowly with unhurried steps, seemingly not fast, yet he easily traversed a distance of over a hundred meters. Without shouting, his words resounded clearly in everyone's ears.

The crimson giant wolf stood behind him, looking down as if an unseen mountain was pressing down on everyone's shoulders.

"Sarkaz, why are you here in Syracuse? Has no one taught you any manners?"

Although it was a question, the old man had no intention of getting anyone to answer. He simply spoke to himself, and an astonishing killing intent spread out from him, silencing everyone. Even the most carefree W dared not speak at this moment.

"Ha, that's right, just a stray dog ​​whose own country is in ruins."

His gaze swept across the area before finally settling on Texas. A strange light flickered in his eyes, and the pressure that had been shrouding Black Wolf vanished without a trace.

“Now, you of Texas blood, tell me what happened here, and what you did.”

“We did nothing. I had just arrived in the city when Norman Luches attacked me. My companions came to my rescue but were nearly killed by the city’s artillery.”

Texas didn't know who the old man was, but she knew very well that it was best not to waste time talking nonsense or provoke such a powerful person, as that would drag everyone into the abyss.

At least he hasn't made a move yet, which means they still have a chance.

"Norman, oh, Norman."

The old man glanced casually at the explosion crater in the distance, then looked away and nodded slightly.

“Honest cub, you know nothing about this. So, as agreed, as the last of the Texas bloodline, you may leave.”

"I……"

Texas looked up and stared directly into the old man's eyes: "And what about them?"

"they?"

The old man shook his head indifferently, and the heavy pressure fell again. The cold killing intent seeped into Texas's body through her pores, causing her body to tremble.

"You can leave because you're Texas. What are they anyway?"

"Don't test my patience, and don't take my kindness for granted."

"Traitors are unforgivable, and the filthy Sarkaz should not set foot in the wolf's territory."

"Dirty Sarkaz? Did the Sarkaz eat your rice?"

Seeing that this guy had no intention of letting them go, W, despite being restrained everywhere, sneered and retorted.

"Old dog, your arrogant and ignorant face makes me laugh."

"You're trying to provoke me, Sarkaz, hoping for a quick and easy death? Well, you've failed. The dungeons of Lucches will show you what fear is."

Even when someone pointed at him and cursed at him, the old man showed no anger whatsoever, and his expression remained indifferent.

He raised an arm and pressed it against Dassim, who was trembling with fear, ignoring W.

However, the next moment, orange-red flames suddenly erupted from the mercenary girl's body, blocking his way.

"If you want to make a move, you'll have to kill me first, old man."

In his desperate situation, W laughed with unusual abandon.

Bow down? Beg for mercy? Those four words simply don't exist in her dictionary. Since she can't escape anyway, she might as well make a scene. That's what she thought, and that's what she did.

The flames of the evil god seeped out from under the skin, burning wildly and devouring its own life force.

The power of the Flame Cultivator's Prayer - Flame Sin erupted at full force, instantly transforming her entire body into a blazing torch, shielding the old man. She even took the initiative to lunge towards him.

"A Flame Demon? No, it doesn't seem like one."

Faced with the oncoming flames of destruction, the old man's calm face finally changed. His brows furrowed slightly, and a dark red blade of energy condensed in front of his palm, shooting towards W. However, the sharp blade of energy was burned away before it could even penetrate the surface of the evil god's flames.

"Idiot, why aren't you making a move? Are you just waiting to die?"

With someone taking the lead, Lappland's lips curled into a mad grin. He grabbed his twin swords and pounced forward. Grayish-white wolf shadows leaped from the blades, howling as they charged toward the old man's side.

Since the other party has no intention of letting them go, sitting idly by and waiting to die is not her style. Even if she dies, she will still take a piece of flesh.

"I, I... Damn it, I'll risk it all!"

Faced with certain death, Dasmi's ferocity was unleashed, and he swung his sword to strike. However, unlike Lappland, he muttered incantations as he slashed.

"My soul will return to my great master; you cannot kill me!"

"Sword Rain!"

Texas swiftly raised her hand and summoned a rain of orange-red swords; she had never intended to abandon her companions.

“I gave you a chance, you last descendant of Texas. Do you know what it means to attack me?”

The crimson giant wolf standing behind raised its front paw and brought it down with immense energy. With a single sweep, it sent everyone, including W, flying. The rain of swords falling from the sky and the running wolf shadows were crushed to dust the moment the wolf's paw landed, having no effect whatsoever.

snort~

With a soft sound, a thin flame ignited from the giant wolf's front paw fur, spreading rapidly to the surrounding area and bringing the old man to a standstill.

“Not bad flames. You deserve to be remembered by me, Sarkaz.”

A large patch of fur, still ablaze, fell off. The old man stared at the direction W had fallen, a flicker of surprise in his eyes.

He truly hadn't expected that these little ones could cause him any trouble, even just a little bit, which was enough to make them proud.