The Boss King actually disguised himself as a novice village chief?! Chapter 404 - 404 344 The Great Melulan

404: Chapter 344: The Great lulan?

404: Chapter 344: The Great lulan?

The Blood Clan is immortal.

Indeed, they are.

No matter the severity of the wound, the Blood Clan can rapidly heal themselves.

Whether their hearts or brains are pierced, it will not lead to their demise; the sun cannot harm the noble Blood Clan, who hide in the darkness only because they dislike the sunlight.

Garlic can repel the Blood Clan, but only a few who detest the sll of garlic are affected.

Silver cannot hurt the Blood Clan; it might even beco part of their collection.

The Blood Clan does not have any natural enemies.

If there is anything in the world that could truly bring an end to the Blood Clan, it would likely only be fire, for after turning to ash, even the mightiest of bodies is rendered powerless.

But the Blood Clan on site witnessed with their own eyes one of their kind being pumled by a nearly tangible force of wind, his body violently shaking, convulsing, exploding into a mist of blood.

“Immortal” Blood Clan, can they still return to life after being reduced to blood mist?

Blood poured out profusely, showing no signs of revival.

It seed not.

“Holy shit, that strong?” The Undead Blood Wart Demon was completely shocked.

Kerrigan gaped; he truly had not expected the plot to develop in this direction.

Xinta, with all his might, just got obliterated?

A boss-level powerhouse with the power of windstorm at his command, accompanying him, yet all he could think of were the quests tied to him.

If he had shalessly asked to be ntored, would he have already learned that exaggerated storm ability?

“Whose side are you on!!” shouted two of the Crimson Nobility, though they didn’t dare approach the man in the black cloak.

They seed fierce on the outside but timid inside, which made the other Undead sneer.

The Blood Clan’s dignity has been completely lost by you!

“I co from the Black Marsh Kingdom!” The storm always circled behind the man in the black cloak, lifting the broken bricks of the castle.

With his own power, he used the storm to lift half of the castle.

The absolute terrifying brute force caused the whirling debris in the tornado to form a Storm Throne that fully represented his strength.

This power, which hoisted the weight of a small mountain, was also the main reason why the Blood Clans present were calm enough to hear him speak.

“I’m searching for a Blood Clan nad Diana, my vampire lover, but none of that matters at this mont,” he said.

He looked up at everyone present: “I have heard words of great disloyalty.

The Blood Clan who fled the Black Marsh Kingdom daringly betrayed the glory of our kind and proclaid themselves as sovereign?”

What?

Each and every Blood Clan mber present was dumbfounded.

“The origin of the Blood Clan, the source of power, there is only one: the Creator of Hatred and Sanctuary, the Maker of the Black Rite, the vampiric Queen, the great lulan!” He rallied with a voice as high-pitched as a knight whose faith had been desecrated, venting his dissatisfaction.

As if a sacred templar was about to pass judgnt on the heretic.

Underneath the cloak, Lind was making it all up.

When he realized that the Blood Clan’s adherence to “bloodline supremacy” exceeded even that of the nobles, he devised this plan.

He couldn’t catch and kill every single Blood Clan mber inside the Bloodlust Castle.

They could fly, hide, and shape-shift; if they dispersed, it would be impossible to catch them all.

Letting these creatures move freely would cause him endless trouble.

Thus, he needed a reason to prevent them from running away, a reason so compelling that no matter whom he attacked from the Blood Clan, it would be seen as “just cause,” beyond suspicion.

Bloodline supremacy.

That’s what the Blood Clan esteed the most.

The noble Blood Clan from the Black Marsh Kingdom represents the main lineage, possessing boundless glory, while the so-called Crimson Monarch you elected is but a traitor who betrayed the honor of our lineage.

Even if Lind proposed this argunt, so might be unwilling to accept it.

From the Red Nun, it was clear—none of these Blood Clan mbers had ever been to the Black Marsh Kingdom; their knowledge of it resided only in mory and tales.

But it was enough if they acknowledged this claim.

Still loyal to the Crimson Monarch?

That’s easy, for Lind would simply slay the Crimson Monarch.

No loyalty prevails without subjects to give it; without followers, there is no allegiance.

Indeed, as Lind solemnly invoked the na of a Queen relegated to an underground ranch, the Blood Clan was thoroughly deceived.

Even those not deceived, when they saw the terrifying tornado storm levitating behind him, would convince themselves to believe.

There was no need to struggle unnecessarily, really.

Thunder flickered once more, and branch-like lightning struck into the storm, turning it into a thunderstorm.

“lulan?” An aged voice called out.

Stooped over, clad in only a robe, an old man appeared in Lind’s vision.

Redwald Hedwin, the old king.

He looked exactly as he had just before his death, causing Lind so disorientation.

He almost slled sothing foul coming from the other man, but he was certain that this was not Redwald.

The aged figure was nothing more than a shell occupied by so Blood Clan mber.

“That’s the na of the Queen of the Black Marsh Kingdom,” Redwald said, “you are not Blood Clan.”

“And your na?” Lind asked, watching him calmly.

“Redwald.”

“That’s the na of the King of the Rand Kingdom,” Lind spoke, “you don’t even have your own na, yet you dare slander the great lulan!”

He roared in anger, “Lowly bugs!”

Lind thought he should join a troupe of dwarfs and perform, as his impulse to act was strong, and his emotions were aptly suited.

In terms of acting ability, he surely surpassed the vast majority of theatre actors.

Redwald seed confident of his victory and unwilling to explain, “I have my own matters to attend to.”

Before Goliath had fallen, he was perhaps just the Crimson Monarch, but now he admitted that he was fiercely covetous of Lind and wanted him badly, to the point of madness.

A corrupt body could not offer him much more.

So he had to first make himself Redwald, to accept all that the body entailed, then use that to gain more.

“You don’t understand, you pathetic bug!”

Lind seed like a deity controlling the storm.

Although he did not use powers like poison, storms, or frost often, it did not an he wasn’t adept at them.

His extensive use of flas stemd from his abilities being largely related to fire.

The collaboration between the Supply Fla Knight and the Sun Knight decided that this should be his focus.

With his Absolute Control and the support of Noble power, he wasn’t much worse when using powers of other attributes.

“I am the Guardian Knight of lulan, the great Servant!”

Out in the world, one’s identity is what one claims.

Years wielding high authority endowed Lind with an unmistakable air of dominance.

Even fully cloaked, with his face and grand armor hidden, he still demanded reverence.

The storm was the hard proof of his claims.

Neither the Crimson Nobility nor the Blood Clan’s Crimson Ladies, nor the Undead, chose to approach and assist.

They could not intervene in this battle; the storm and the thunder prevented those who tried to get close.

Whoever would erge from the storm would be the true “legitimate” one.

Could a powerful monarch be defeated?

They had never entertained such a thought before, and out of loyalty, they should be willing to die for their monarch.

But what if the monarch’s existence was born of betrayal?

Lind could sll a nauseating stench through the storm and the thunder, signs that the “Crimson Monarch” in front of him wanted to possess Redwald’s corpse and had paid a hefty price for it.

In his fight with Dragon King Kote, Lind had already gained a deeper understanding of thunder and knew he could not let it entangle him.

High heat, paralysis, piercing pain, devastating bombardnts, and a speed too fast to react, even his body could not withstand the negative effects from a direct hit by the thunder.

No matter whether it was Dragon King Kote or the present Redwald, they were both able to continue using thunder while in a frail state and had reached the level of doing so at will.

Lind’s figure moved within the storm, and even if he forcibly restrained his rough combat style, he was still able to exhibit a high level of combat artistry.

It even gave the impression that he was better at nimble and high-speed maneuvering.

But the opposite Crimson Monarch could not do the sa; his corrupt body affected too much.

The storm obscured the view, but it seed the outco was not difficult to predict.