“What…?”
Yusa asked back, eyes narrowed to slits.
Did he hear wrong? No matter how he thought about it, he must have heard wrong.
What did that bastard just say?
‘…Mongrel?’
Did he really call me a mongrel? That can’t be.
At the sound he had never once heard in his life, Yusa’s pupils wavered. A mongrel?
‘…Me?’
He was born in the very heart of Wolya and had lived for a long, long time.
During that absurd span of time, Yusa ruled beneath his Master, and every one of the Wolya Tribe knelt before him.
Among the Generals that exist now, the only Wolya are himself and a being of unknown identity called Yarang.
‘How dare he.’
Call me a mongrel?
Even the purebloods are nothing but beneath my feet.
“…Hahaha….”
Yusa let out a laugh.
At that sight, a bead of cold sweat fell from the Blue Chief’s jaw.
Drip.
The moment the drop of sweat hit the floor—
[Rrrrrrrr—!!!]
An overwhelming surge of qi erupted from Yusa’s body.
Receiving that qi at close range, the Blue Chief’s body jolted.
“Gggggh…!!!”
It wasn’t just a rough, involuntary groan; his hands trembled visibly.