His Lordship Alexander Kane by Useless Caesar

Chapter 0655 { Was Alexander truly a legendary supreme grand martial? The answer was a resounding no.

He was not just any supreme grand martial. He was the undefeated Lord of War, the mightiest warrior revered worldwide, standing four whole levels above any Grandmaster.

"He's done for. He's a dead man!" Five meters away, the Gray Wolf's blade I arced through the air, his eyes locked onto Alexander's, alight with a fierce excitement.

He had landed the perfect ambush.

Alexander, coffee in his right hand, casually tapped the hotel's service counter with his left, seemingly oblivious to the attack.

~ No reaction? That spelled doom.

y Faced with such a surprise attack, even a deadly strike from an Apex of —= Grandmaster would mean certain death for someone, even a Peak Supreme Grand Martial, caught off guard without any defenses! However, then...

"A sneak attack? Bold move, but sadly, it's too feeble." Alexander's left index finger curled slightly. Without sparing a glance at the descending blade, he tapped the counter and said, "You're looking for a swift end? I'll oblige.

"You'll die fast, and painlessly." As his voice faded, his fingertip lightly struck the counter, emitting a crisp 'snap'.

seemed

it could graze

there was

and organs shattering. I He could not even scream. His body was \ flung back,

two remaining Grandmasters and a crowd of over a hundred muscular men were frozen in shock, their eyes wide as they

Wolf, dead? I

notorious Quinto, the \ unchallenged right-hand man of their entire

is a privilege," Alexander declared. He had just stepped out from behind the service counter, casually holding a cup of coffee in his j right hand. After taking a small sip, he gazed calmly at the horde before him and said disinterestedly, "If you're eager for the same privilege, I won't hesitate to oblige." Privilege? The word sent a shiver through the crowd. Even the

take down? Whoever's left standing must avenge our brothers. No retreat, we'll bury him under our numbers!" "Charge!" I "Attack!" i With that, the men cast aside any last shred of doubt. Their weapons—a whirlwind of sabers, clubs, and knives — descended

surged forward, each person driven by a feverish determination, launching a frenzied charge at Alexander! "Ants, no matter their number,

flick, he sent a spray of coffee droplets flying, his voice devoid of feeling. "Dying by my

Grandmasters leading the charge, effortlessly piercing

single

men, including two martial arts Grandmasters and a cadre of over 30 I warriors wielding vital energy, were I

and organs quaked, and

a fate