Chapter 171.1 : Voban and Doni!

Campione World.

Blue Star, east of continental Europe, Balkans, peninsula.

"Boom!

The once clear sky suddenly filled with countless dark clouds, and blue-violet thunder and lightning streaked across the sky, transforming into bolts of lightning.

Yet, just as these bolts were about to strike the earth, they were swept aside by an abrupt gust.

This scene seemed to mirror a woman's shifting emotions.

In this instant, a beam of sunlight pierced through the dark clouds, carving out the sole patch devoid of rain and lightning. Descending along this sunlit path was a figure clad in a suit and leather shoes, akin to the arrival of a celestial monarch—Kun.

Amidst the swirling winds and clouds, he appeared as the master of nature itself.

Had any denizen from the mystical realms been present, they would discern that this was no mere illusion.

The newcomer bore the visage of an aged and sage gentleman, yet beneath that facade lurked a wildness, possessed of unparalleled physical might and the cunning of a wolf. He thirsted for battle and was sharp-witted though not entirely forthright.

He stood as the eldest Campione in the world, commanding the greatest array of powers and possessing the audacity to challenge even gods for sport.

His full name was Sasha Dejanstahl Voban, known as the Marquis Voban. Outwardly resembling a nobleman, his origins were far from affluent—a father absent of means and a mother orphaned, their poverty so dire that procuring a loaf of bread posed a challenge. Theirs was a life of wandering from place to place.

The surname "Voban" he adopted from the bulldog he believed belonged to a marquis whose territory he once invaded—a constant reminder of his resolve to be valiant and unyielding, never to forget the ignominy suffered.

Hence, Voban may present himself as a gentleman of antiquity, yet he relishes in pugilism, weightlifting, and other athletic pursuits. He craves excitement, disdaining the timidity of the faint-hearted.

He professes a preference for wolves over dogs, repulsed by the latter's subservience and sycophancy, whereas wolves, at times, display defiance and possess an indomitable spirit.

Of course, these are tales lost to time, known to none.

Presently, Voban stands as the elder monarch, the sovereign of wolves, pledged to the Magic Association Alliance spanning northern Europe—a Campione!

His ability, akin to the tempestuous winds and surging waves, is a power dubbed "Sturm Und Drang (Storm and Drive)."

This power was usurped by Marquis Voban after vanquishing the tripartite wind deities "Feng Bo, Yu Shi, and Lei Gong" from the ancient Chinese mythology, and the third power of his own Master.

He commands storms and wields the might of wind, rain, and thunder.

Harnessing this power's influence, Voban summons tempests when his spirits soar, conjuring lightning bolts like a tempest rod, warding off the fiercest winds and snows from his attire, soaring through the skies by manipulating the very atmosphere, and regulating his surroundings' climate to maintain an ideal temperature.

When combined with his primary power, "Legion of Hungry Wolves," he can spew forth lightning from his maw, infusing his magic with unbridled power, and even orchestrate worldwide weather manipulation on a national scale for prolonged durations.

At his fullest exertion, he could decimate entire regions like Dal, a country, Mattia, and a Dal port city—an expanse equivalent to twenty Kyushu and Zhejiang provinces!

Such was Voban's might nearly two centuries past when he possessed a trifecta of powers.

As for now,

"Boom!"

Voban transformed abruptly into a thunderbolt, crashing down to the earth. His wise eyes gleamed with a wolfish, murderous aura.

"Salvatore Doni!"

"Very good, quite good indeed!"

"How dare you lay claim to this marquis's prey?"

"If not for the fear of ravaging my beloved domain, I would never have revealed this so easily."

"Wait until the clash with Luo Hao concludes; then, your demise shall be imminent."

"Is it truly the case that a Campione cannot meet their end?"

Voban exuded an aura thick with malice.

Dark clouds expanded in an instant, enshrouding the entirety of the European continent.

"Alright?"

In the Southern part of the continent, within the Magic Society,

A blond individual, appearing around twenty-four, lifted his sunglasses, gazing up at the darkened skies blanketing Europe. He grinned, remarking, "Seems the old marquis is genuinely furious this time."

"Clearly, I merely seek battle, the pursuit of a worthy opponent."

The young man chuckled heartily, a hint of grievance lacing his tone.

Nearby, several senior members of the Magic Association couldn't help but twitch their lips.

This "King of Swords" was but a mere knight a few years prior. Following his defeat of the god-king "Silver Arm Nuada," he attained the status of a Campione, owing to his sole interest in combat. He was revered by them as the true "warrior" and leader of the alliance.

However, over the past few years, they had also come to realize that this "King of Swords" was nothing short of a troublemaker.

For instance, just recently, upon learning of Marquis Voban's ceremony to summon the Heretic God and seeking to augment his power, he clandestinely ambushed the proceedings, swiftly dispatching the Heretic God in a single stroke.

The consequence? Voban had labored tirelessly for over a decade to amass the artifacts capable of summoning the Heretic God, only for Anton to swoop in and claim them.

Could one expect the King of Wolves to be in high spirits?