Chapitre 137: The Third Son of the North, Westley Hader

If it were an ordinary person, perhaps the ignorant would be fearless.

However, the capital's garrison was made up of martial artists. How could they not have heard of the legend of the Northern King?

The millennial genius, King Braydon Neal, was a living legend.

Who would dare to be disrespectful!

"Don't be so formal, little monkey. Seems like you've moved your whole house here!" Braydon smiled.

"That's right. I've been staying in the capital's recuperation center. I'm so bored that I'm about to fall sick. Can you transfer me back to the north?"

Tristan Yandell was a man, but in front of Braydon, he was like an iron dummy. He scratched his head and stated his request.

Hudson Zamora and the others were so shocked that their jaws dropped. This was one of the three great governors, Tristan Yandell.