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2.86% The Atrocious Werewolf Prince / Chapter 11: The Gifts

Bab 11: The Gifts

Ezra Zephyr calmed himself and pivoted his head down to see the items in his hands. "What are these, Fenrir?" He asked.

"These bottles contain syrup of Asclepius, he is a hero and god of healing in greek. Some even called him a prophet because his powers could see glimpses of the future, he was one of the pioneers of medicine and healing. This syrup made by Asclepius can heal and prolong the vitality in the body, your parents will have a spring in their steps" Fenrir explained.

"And what about this strange cubic pill?" Werewolf prince inquired again.

"This is a gift that no one in the Zetra realm can give you," Fenrir said, puzzling the adolescence. "This cube is not a pill, it's a martial container, inside of it is a spirit of 7th grade."

"Wha... what!!! A spirit of sev... seventh grade?!" Ezra Zephyr shuttered, he was surprised to an extent where he almost dropped those goldy items. "A 7th-grade spirit worths more than the entirety of Bloodfang Kingdom" he mumbled.

"After consuming it, there will 3 possible outcomes, 2 good and 1 bad" Fenrir said indifferently.

"Tell me the bad one first" Ezra replied hurriedly. "Hoho so that the good ones can ease you later, you cheeky bastard. Any which way, the bad one is if the consumer could not handle the spirit manipulation then he will die miserably on the spot" after hearing that the werewolf prince unconsciously gulped, his color gradually paled to a visible degree.

"Now the good possibilities" Fenrir spoke, attracting the attention of the perturbed adolescent prince. "The 1st good possibility is if he succeeds in manipulating his spirit he will become the host of new spirit with a grade of 7." The face of Ezra showed the sign of happiness, his tensed features waned drastically.

Fenrir saw that and continued. "The last possibility can be considered as blessing amongst blessings, at the start of manipulation the present spirit and the high-grade spirit will fight for superiority. This fight will cause chaotic pain in the host's body, during that time his qi or mana will become unstable. If he couldn't bear it then he will die and if he can bear it then he will get the 7th-grade spirit. But between both there exist 3rd possibility, the rarest one. If the host uses his consciousness and tampers the fight then there will be a chance of spirit merge, if both spirits merge instead of fighting to death then the new spirit will be born, an 8th-grade spirit"

Ezra Zephyr quietly looked at Fenrir, there was not a single reaction from him, this puzzled Fenrir as well "Is he not impressed? He was clearly impressed by a mere 7th grade then why he is like a lifeless doll after hearing about 8th-grade spirit" he couldn't peek in Ezra Zephyr's feelings this time. While Fenrir was wondering about that reaction, the reality was the opposite. With all the otherwordly information, Ezra Zephyr's mind went blank, his brain stopped processing for a moment as if it wanted to restart the whole chatter from start. He never even thought of possessing a 7th-grade spirit in his wildest dreams, let alone an 8th-grade spirit.

After getting ahold of himself Ezra Zephyr bowed in respect and said "Thank you Fenrir, I will use this spirit to get my revenge. With this, I can reach unseen heights"

"Tsk, this is not for you dumbass. It's for your father" Fenrir replied with disgust on his face.

"Really! Then what will be my spirit, is it a 7th-grade spirit or 8th grade?" The young werewolf prince asked as his eyes glittered in excitement.

"The spirit chosen for you can not be compared with these shitty spirits" Fenrir boldly said, pride emitted from his vigorous voice.

Ezra Zephyr this time was less surprised and happier, deep inside he was expecting the same type of answer. "I don't know if I can ever repay your kindness Fenrir," he said.

"I hate that word Ezra, if you want to repay me then kill your innocent self and be reborn as evil, only then the world will truly fear you." The midnight monstrous wolf of Norse said every word of his was suffused with gravity.

"You can go now, give these materials to your parents and come back after bidding farewell. You won't be able to see them for 5 years." The wolf said

"Yes, I will take my leave now" the prince replied.

"Time is crucial Ezra, return as fast as you can" the wolf warned and the prince nodded. With that the same blinding light devoured Ezra and he was pulled into a void when he opened his eyes. He was in the same place in front of the huge wolf statue, the first thing he saw was a person crying desperately, his sorrowful cries could tear the sky apart.

"Father..." Ezra mumbled. Mirza Zephyr felt a presence. The sobbing king of Bloodfang Kingdom gradually raised his head. "Ezra, you came back!" He applied force on his wobbly knees and stood up. For Ezra Zephyr, it was the very first time he saw his role model crying so helplessly over something.

The now stopped cries of his father echoed in his mind, his heartbeat paced as tribal drums before a sacrifice. He darted up to his father and hugged him, his eyes were filled with tears as if they were aching to rain. But the prince controlled his emotions admirably.

"Oh my child, I thought I lost you once again," Mirza said as he firmly hugged his son.

Ezra Zephyr calmed himself, he gentle broke the hug and stated his father. Four wet eyes met each other. King's eyes were filled with helplessness and regret while the peepers of the prince were engulfed with fury and vengeance.

"Our ancestors didn't lie father, there is a blessing here. I met our god." Ezra said the piece.

"Our god?" Asked Mirza

The werewolf prince looked at the statue of the wolf behind, the king followed the gaze and his eyes widened. "Ezra, you are not joking. Did you meet our god Fenrisúlfr?"

"Yes father, though he is not a god but a monstrous beast." Ezra corrected.

"EZRA BEHAVE YOURSELF!! you are the Red Werewolf Prince and heir of the throne, it's very inappropriate for you to say this. We are what we are because of our ancestors and god Fenrisùlfr. Apologise for this blasphemy" Werewolf King chided his seed.

"Uhh... but father... he was the one who told me not to call him a god" Ezra replied as he scratched his head innocently.

"So what if he said hims... wait what!" The puzzled king didn't know what to say anymore, as if someone took out the words he was about to spit from his mouth.

Ezra giggled at his father as he turned his sight to the wolf statue. "Fenrir must be laughing at us now"


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