The Guardian gods-Chapter 471

He was not like other children. He never would be.

His blood-red and dark-shadowed eyes clashed with Yuki’s own, an unspoken challenge hanging between mother and son.

Yuki, still in her devil form, regarded him coldly. There was no warmth in her gaze, no gentle embrace awaiting him. This was no ordinary birth, and she was no ordinary mother. She had felt his intent before he was even born—his desire to make her his first kill, to emerge into this world baptized in her blood.

But she was his mother.

And she would not be prey.

Slowly, her lips curved into something that was not quite a smile. It was neither amusement nor affection—it was simply acknowledgment.

"You’ll have to do better than that, my son."

The air grew thick with power as the tension between them hung, palpable and unrelenting. The prince’s small hands clenched into tiny fists, his annoyance shifting into something more calculating. He had wanted to emerge into the world a predator, but his mother had denied him that satisfaction.

Perhaps that was why, rather than lash out, he let out a slow exhale and descended from the air, landing on the ground before her, feet touching the bloodstained floor with perfect balance.

Yuki’s devil form slowly receded, her robes reforming around her as she observed him. He had chosen not to strike—an understanding passed between them.

Not now.

But one day, he would test her again.

The prince talked about now strode across the frozen expanse, his bare torso exposed to the biting cold, yet he moved as if the frost and wind were mere whispers against his skin. His frame, far larger than any ten-year-old should possess, exuded an eerie presence, each step pressing deep into the thick snow beneath him. Resting against his shoulder was an Odachi, a blade so massive that it should have been impossible for a child to wield, yet it fit him like an extension of his own being.

Behind him were his supposed guards, though from their behavior, one would question if they were truly guarding him or simply tagging along. A large wooden table had been set onto the ice-covered plain, and atop it sat a well-worn chessboard, pieces carefully arranged mid-game. Instead of keeping watch, the men were hunched over the board, murmuring strategies to one another, their breaths forming thick clouds in the frozen air.

The prince stopped, observing them in silence. He tilted his head as they debated their next move, his blood-red eyes narrowing with mild amusement before shifting into boredom.

"Idiots."

With a sigh, he turned away, trudging off on his own.

One of the guards, barely looking up from the board, called out, "Remember to bring back a succulent prey, preferably a bear! We all—"

He cut himself off abruptly, eyes darting toward his fellow guards, realizing his mistake too late. He coughed into his fist before correcting himself.

"Your mother has been craving one."

The prince paused in his steps. He didn’t turn back, didn’t acknowledge the slip. Instead, he simply raised a middle finger before continuing forward, disappearing into the vast white expanse.

The guards exchanged glances, their easygoing expressions briefly replaced with something sharper, something more dangerous. Then, as if nothing had happened, they returned to their game.

Above them, the wind howled, the snow swallowing all traces of the prince’s passage.

After walking for some distance, the prince stopped as he took a sniff in the air, his blood red eye trailing the area. In his sight a blood red line was shown, he had found his prey and it’s realm was just perfect for him.

His boots dug deep into the snow as his figure turned into blur as he trailed behind the trail he found.

Far away from where the prince is, a beast like a dragon with pure white scales but no wings can be seen surrounded by wolves. A dragon beast not lucky enough to be reborn as a dragon.

Yet the draconic bloodline flowing through its vein still made it a top predator and quite a delicacy for creatures seeking evolution as no matter how little or diluted the dragon blood is, it still is a dragon blood. freeweɓnovel.cøm

This dragon beast has just woken up from its long promotion slumber not too long ago and now it is at the fourth stage. The promotion left it empty and hungry and so it went out and at the same time didn’t suppress the fluctuation of its bloodline which was an instinct most dragon beasts inherited to protect themselves.

And just like a bait, this pack of wolves were hooked. Once it found his target, it once again suppressed the fluctuation, leaving the wolves confused but once they laid eyes on it, they knew they had found their target.

The dragon beast, having just emerged from its slumber-induced weakness, stands at the center of the snowy expanse, its eyes locked on the encircling wolves. The wolves, sensing the potent draconic blood, move with a predatory grace, their breaths forming icy plumes in the frigid air.

The first move comes from the wolves. Two wolves, their eyes glowing with azure light, launch forward, leaving trails of frost in their wake. They unleash a coordinated attack, conjuring razor-sharp ice shards that hurtle towards the dragon beast. The dragon beast, reacting with surprising speed, roars, and a wave of pure ice erupts from its maw, shattering the ice shards and sending a shockwave of freezing air outwards.

The wolves, however, are not deterred. Four more wolves, their eyes shimmering silver, begin a flanking maneuver. They move with incredible speed, blurring across the snow, the wind itself seeming to bend to their will. They unleash gusts of razor-sharp wind, swirling vortexes that cut through the air, attempting to slice at the dragon beast’s flanks.

The dragon beast, its immense size and strength allowing it to withstand the wind attacks, pivots, its powerful tail sweeping across the snow, creating a wall of ice and snow that blocks the wind vortexes. It then lunges forward, its massive jaws snapping, attempting to seize one of the wind wolves. The wolf, with its superior speed, narrowly evades the attack, leaving a trail of shimmering silver as it leaps away.

The remaining four ice wolves, seeing an opening, unleash a barrage of ice spears, each tipped with a chilling frost that threatens to freeze anything it touches. The dragon beast, its scales shimmering, absorbs the impact, its icy aura deflecting the spears. However, the sheer volume of the attack forces it to take a step back, revealing a slight vulnerability.

The wind wolves, taking advantage of this moment, intensify their attack. They create a swirling cyclone of wind, a vortex of razor-sharp air that threatens to tear the dragon beast apart. The ice wolves, coordinating with their wind brethren, launch another volley of ice spears, aiming for the dragon beast’s eyes and vulnerable underbelly.

The dragon beast, its eyes blazing with icy fury, unleashes a devastating ice breath attack. This time, the breath is not just a wave of cold; it’s a concentrated beam of pure ice, a freezing laser that cuts through the cyclone and shatters the ice spears. The beam strikes one of the wind wolves directly, encasing it in a tomb of solid ice. The wolf falls to the ground, frozen solid.

The remaining wolves, realizing the sheer power of the dragon beast, begin to coordinate their

attacks with greater precision. The wind wolves create a swirling shield of wind, deflecting the dragon beast’s ice breath, while the ice wolves launch coordinated attacks, aiming for the dragon beast’s limbs and joints.

The dragon beast, its movements now showing signs of fatigue, retaliates with a series of powerful swipes and bites. It manages to catch another wolf, this time an ice wolf, in its jaws, crushing its bones with a sickening crunch. The wolf’s icy energy flickers and dies.

The battle rages on, the snow and ice stained with the blood of the fallen wolves. The dragon beast, despite its injuries, continues to fight with a primal ferocity, its draconic blood fueling its determination. The remaining wolves, their numbers dwindling, continue to attack with a desperate tact, their elemental powers flickering in the face of the dragon beast’s overwhelming might.

The dragon beast, with a final, earth-shattering roar, unleashes a blizzard of ice and snow, a freezing tempest that engulfs the remaining wolves. The wolves, their elemental defenses overwhelmed, are frozen solid, their forms encased in icy tombs. The dragon beast, its chest heaving, stands victorious, its white scales stained with the blood of its enemies.

The dragon beast, its massive frame heaving, finally succumbed to its fatigue, collapsing onto the snow-covered ground. Its glacial blue eyes, though still alert, held a weariness born of the brutal struggle. The air, thick with the scent of blood and ice, hung heavy around it. The frozen forms of the wolves, encased in their icy tombs, dotted the expanse, a testament to the battle’s ferocity.