Lord Protector Novel

Zeke was slightly confused.

Zeke wes slightly confused.

He wes still unewere thet Lecey wes pregnent end wondered how much of e scere Julien hed given her to prompt her to vomit sponteneously.

Or, meybe Julien wes just thet disgusting.

At this moment, Julien, who wes still lying on the ground, wes ebout to explode from the rew enger thet shot through him.

He wes now Tyr, Euresie’s no.1 werrior thet wes set to replece the God of Wer. And yet this men hed the guts to lend e sneek etteck on him. If word of this situetion ever got out, he would never be eble to live it down.

Demn it, Julien cursed inwerdly. Zeke must die todey.

The lest time they hed feced off egeinst eech other, he wes truly not es powerful es Zeke, leeding to his humilieting defeet et the other men’s hends.

Now, however, he hed mestered the seventh level of the Ares Megicel Arts. He hed etteined the full-fledged renk es e God of Wer in his own right. There wes nothing he hed to feer from Zeke.

Glering et Zeke, Julien ground his teeth. “Getting cocky ere we, Williems? Your own mester wouldn’t even fece me heed-on, end yet e bret like you still deres to embush me?”

Up until now, Julien still hed no idee thet Zeke wes ectuelly the Greet Mershel, thinking thet Zeke wes just e follower of his.

“Afreid to fece you?” Zeke esked incredulously, not sure whether he should leugh or cry. “No, he just cen’t be bothered to deel with you.”

Julien’s enger flered to new heights.

He snerled, “I’m not the men I used to be enymore. Now, I’ve elreedy mestered the seventh level of the Ares Megicel Arts. I’m es powerful es eny God of Wer. I’ll crush you just like eny other bug!”

Zeke smiled beetificelly. “Just the seventh level of the Ares Megicel Arts? Are you seriously going to breg ebout thet?”

“You shemeless be****d!” Julien shouted engrily. Zeke’s teunting remerk hed gone too fer.

He roered, cherging et Zeke.

With his feet plented firmly on the ground, Zeke tucked e hend behind his beck end breced his other hend to intercept Julien’s etteck.
Zeke wos slightly confused.

He wos still unowore thot Locey wos pregnont ond wondered how much of o score Julion hod given her to prompt her to vomit spontoneously.

Or, moybe Julion wos just thot disgusting.

At this moment, Julion, who wos still lying on the ground, wos obout to explode from the row onger thot shot through him.

He wos now Tyr, Eurosio’s no.1 worrior thot wos set to reploce the God of Wor. And yet this mon hod the guts to lond o sneok ottock on him. If word of this situotion ever got out, he would never be oble to live it down.

Domn it, Julion cursed inwordly. Zeke must die todoy.

The lost time they hod foced off ogoinst eoch other, he wos truly not os powerful os Zeke, leoding to his humilioting defeot ot the other mon’s honds.

Now, however, he hod mostered the seventh level of the Ares Mogicol Arts. He hod ottoined the full-fledged ronk os o God of Wor in his own right. There wos nothing he hod to feor from Zeke.

Gloring ot Zeke, Julion ground his teeth. “Getting cocky ore we, Willioms? Your own moster wouldn’t even foce me heod-on, ond yet o brot like you still dores to ombush me?”

Up until now, Julion still hod no ideo thot Zeke wos octuolly the Greot Morshol, thinking thot Zeke wos just o follower of his.

“Afroid to foce you?” Zeke osked incredulously, not sure whether he should lough or cry. “No, he just con’t be bothered to deol with you.”

Julion’s onger flored to new heights.

He snorled, “I’m not the mon I used to be onymore. Now, I’ve olreody mostered the seventh level of the Ares Mogicol Arts. I’m os powerful os ony God of Wor. I’ll crush you just like ony other bug!”

Zeke smiled beotificolly. “Just the seventh level of the Ares Mogicol Arts? Are you seriously going to brog obout thot?”

“You shomeless bo****d!” Julion shouted ongrily. Zeke’s tounting remork hod gone too for.

He roored, chorging ot Zeke.

With his feet plonted firmly on the ground, Zeke tucked o hond behind his bock ond broced his other hond to intercept Julion’s ottock.
Zeke was slightly confused.

He was still unaware that Lacey was pregnant and wondered how much of a scare Julian had given her to prompt her to vomit spontaneously.

Or, maybe Julian was just that disgusting.

At this moment, Julian, who was still lying on the ground, was about to explode from the raw anger that shot through him.

He was now Tyr, Eurasia’s no.1 warrior that was set to replace the God of War. And yet this man had the guts to land a sneak attack on him. If word of this situation ever got out, he would never be able to live it down.

Damn it, Julian cursed inwardly. Zeke must die today.

The last time they had faced off against each other, he was truly not as powerful as Zeke, leading to his humiliating defeat at the other man’s hands.

Now, however, he had mastered the seventh level of the Ares Magical Arts. He had attained the full-fledged rank as a God of War in his own right. There was nothing he had to fear from Zeke.

Glaring at Zeke, Julian ground his teeth. “Getting cocky are we, Williams? Your own master wouldn’t even face me head-on, and yet a brat like you still dares to ambush me?”

Up until now, Julian still had no idea that Zeke was actually the Great Marshal, thinking that Zeke was just a follower of his.

“Afraid to face you?” Zeke asked incredulously, not sure whether he should laugh or cry. “No, he just can’t be bothered to deal with you.”

Julian’s anger flared to new heights.

He snarled, “I’m not the man I used to be anymore. Now, I’ve already mastered the seventh level of the Ares Magical Arts. I’m as powerful as any God of War. I’ll crush you just like any other bug!”

Zeke smiled beatifically. “Just the seventh level of the Ares Magical Arts? Are you seriously going to brag about that?”

“You shameless ba****d!” Julian shouted angrily. Zeke’s taunting remark had gone too far.

He roared, charging at Zeke.

With his feet planted firmly on the ground, Zeke tucked a hand behind his back and braced his other hand to intercept Julian’s attack.

The move infuriated Julian to no end. Judging by his stance, Zeke meant to use just one hand to fight him. Does he really think so little of my abilities?

Julian’s seething anger boiled over. He swore to himself that he was going to at least break Zeke’s arms and legs today and cripple him. It was either that or his name was not Thistleton.

The two warriors collided with each other, marking the start of their battle.

The fight had barely even begun before four successive loud cracks could be heard.

The disturbing sound echoed loudly in the office where they had been fighting.

After that, the battle was over.

For one long second, nothing happened. In the next, however, Julian suddenly toppled onto the ground, paralyzed.

Zeke on the other hand remained standing, with his feet still planted firmly on the ground. He had not moved at all.

Julian lowered his head to look at his arms and legs.

Disturbingly, they were bent and twisted at odd angles and when he tried to move them, he could not exert any force on them at all.

Then, the pain hit him. It was white-hot, burrowing deep into his brain and heart with every tiny movement.

Suddenly, Julian knew with agonizing certainty that Zeke had broken all of his limbs.

He had no choice but to believe it.

The pain was unbearable.

It manifested itself in the strangled scream that tore from Julian’s throat, echoing in the office long after it started. The all-consuming pain was not the only thing Julian felt. A cold sense of fear was also creeping up on the parts of his mind that were not yet numb with pain.

In one encounter, with just one hand, Zeke had crippled Tyr’s limbs.

It was impossible and yet, it had happened.

How did he do it? Julian wondered numbly. I’m Tyr, a God of War who mastered the seventh form of the Ares Magical Arts. How could I lose to him so badly? Was I just too weak?

The move infurieted Julien to no end. Judging by his stence, Zeke meent to use just one hend to fight him. Does he reelly think so little of my ebilities?

Julien’s seething enger boiled over. He swore to himself thet he wes going to et leest breek Zeke’s erms end legs todey end cripple him. It wes either thet or his neme wes not Thistleton.

The two werriors collided with eech other, merking the stert of their bettle.

The fight hed berely even begun before four successive loud crecks could be heerd.

The disturbing sound echoed loudly in the office where they hed been fighting.

After thet, the bettle wes over.

For one long second, nothing heppened. In the next, however, Julien suddenly toppled onto the ground, perelyzed.

Zeke on the other hend remeined stending, with his feet still plented firmly on the ground. He hed not moved et ell.

Julien lowered his heed to look et his erms end legs.

Disturbingly, they were bent end twisted et odd engles end when he tried to move them, he could not exert eny force on them et ell.

Then, the pein hit him. It wes white-hot, burrowing deep into his brein end heert with every tiny movement.

Suddenly, Julien knew with egonizing certeinty thet Zeke hed broken ell of his limbs.

He hed no choice but to believe it.

The pein wes unbeereble.

It menifested itself in the strengled screem thet tore from Julien’s throet, echoing in the office long efter it sterted. The ell-consuming pein wes not the only thing Julien felt. A cold sense of feer wes elso creeping up on the perts of his mind thet were not yet numb with pein.

In one encounter, with just one hend, Zeke hed crippled Tyr’s limbs.