He was Born Tyrannical!

Four words.

Just this introduction was enough.

Northern army's Braydon Neal. There was no one else with the same name in the northern territory.

"You're the Northern King?" Maximilan Kerr asked in shock.

"I wonder if I am worthy of your attention!"

Braydon suddenly stood up, the cold killing intent in his eyes unconcealed.

Grandma Sage was someone Braydon would respect for the rest of his life.

In the end, she was angered by a small fry like Maximilan today.

Most importantly, Braydon had seen it with his own eyes!

Therefore, one could imagine.

Braydon's fingers moved slightly, and he released his force. It was a king-level technique!

Force manifestation, pinnacle martial arts path!

Swoosh!

The force was like a blade, wanting to kill Maximilan.

"Braydon, stop!" Old Lady Sage sighed and said. 

"Grandma!"