Killing God, If You Want War Then Fight
A group of half-grown boys surrounded Prince Nolan, but strangely, none of them rushed forward. Instead, they just stood there, hurling threats...
"You little punk, you’re dead!"
"You’d better die quick—maybe we’ll let you keep your corpse intact."
The group attacking Prince Nolan finally made their move!
Thud, thud, thud... The sound of fists hitting flesh, and of biting and bodies crashing to the ground, echoed through the darkness.
"Go die!"
"I’ll gut you myself!"
"Crunch... What the hell is this meat? My damn teeth just snapped!"
"Son of a bitch, you dare steal from me? Sick of living, huh?"
"You brat, even snake gall would kill you. If I don’t beat you to death today, you’ll never learn what this place is!"
None of these boys had real martial arts training. Their moves were crude but deadly—learned in fight after fight, skills for killing.
They surrounded but did not attack. This stalemate lasted for a full two hours. Prince Nolan stood there like a rock, waiting for someone to make a move...
Even after two hours, with everyone frozen in place, Prince Nolan didn't relax for a second. He didn't even move his eyebrows, keeping a battle-ready stance, prepared to fight at any moment!
In his life, 'waiting quietly to die' simply wasn't in his vocabulary. He knew each word separately, but together, they meant nothing to him.
If you want a fight, then come fight! Nolan Dongling fears no one!
If a street brawl broke out in the city, maybe you’d see some blood, maybe a broken arm. But here? It was kill or be killed.
If tricking that little eunuch to death years ago was Prince Nolan’s first kill, then this was the first time he’d killed with his own hands!
An hour passed, then two. As time went on and darkness fell, the boys who'd been surrounding but not attacking started to crack. When the first one left, many soon followed...
Knowing there was no chance of victory, staying would only mean death. Better to leave early than late.
Many felt this way. Soon, the number attacking Prince Nolan was cut in half. But Prince Nolan didn't dare relax—those who remained were truly dangerous opponents. Unless it was kill or be killed, this group would never give up!
Time kept passing, and the tension only grew. In this small grove, aside from these half-grown kids, there was no one else. Even those lurking in the shadows hoping to pick up scraps had all gone back to their houses.
Prince Nolan didn’t know how many times he’d struck—his hands were aching, but he couldn’t stop. If he didn’t kill his opponent, he’d be the one to die.
The night was dark and windy, stars hidden behind the sky, not even a sliver of moon. The whole island was shrouded in darkness—so black you couldn't see your own hand, let alone the person across from you. And at that moment...
Prince Nolan smashed with everything he had, pounding until the enemy’s head was crushed, heart shattered—using any means necessary to bring down whoever stood in front of him!
After a whole night of frenzied fighting, Prince Nolan's stamina was completely drained. But he couldn't feel exhaustion—because his enemies were still standing...
"Go to hell!"
Prince Nolan could endure pain that gnawed at his bones and stabbed at his heart—this was nothing. As long as he killed the last person, he’d win!
"Crunch... What the hell is this meat? My damn teeth just broke!"
Prince Nolan’s hair was disheveled, his body covered in blood, not a single patch of skin uninjured. His little finger hung limply, his left elbow twisted at an odd angle, and his legs...
Bones broken, white bone jutting out—Prince Nolan looked utterly miserable. But...
This was a boy—Prince Nolan—battered and bleeding, blood streaming from a hole in his forehead, who stood up—bathed in sunlight and covered in blood, gripping a sharp stone, step by step approaching his final enemy.
Ninth Royal Uncle was the main target of their attacks. Scrawny as he was, he shouldn't have stood a chance against them. But he had one huge advantage...
"No, don’t kill me, don’t kill me!" The boy lying on the ground was two heads taller than Prince Nolan, and his injuries were nowhere near as severe. But facing this killing-machine-like Prince Nolan, he couldn’t muster a single thought of resistance.
In this pitch-blackness, it wasn't so easy for them to pinpoint his location.
Ninth Royal Uncle wasn't as strong as the others, but he was agile. With everyone brawling in chaos, he slipped among them and managed to take full advantage.
That thought flashed through the boy’s mind, but the next second he couldn’t think at all—because Prince Nolan was already upon him. That small, thin body suddenly seemed enormous.
Prince Nolan’s face was smeared with blood, his expression unreadable. All you could see was him raising the sharp weapon, crouching down without hesitation, and then...
The feeling was completely different.
Unless you did it yourself, you'd never know what it felt like to have blood and brain matter splatter on you; never know how much force it took to drive a sharp object into someone's body...
Blood splattered, spraying all over Prince Nolan’s face. He wiped his face expressionlessly, gripped his weapon tighter, and then...
Thud, thud, thud...
He didn't know how many times he'd struck—his hands were aching, but he couldn't stop. If he didn't kill his opponent, he'd be the one to die.
The boys in the houses all came out, watching Prince Nolan from a distance. Not one dared to approach. In fact, when his gaze swept over them, they all shrank back in fear.
He smashed with all his strength, pounding until the enemy's head was crushed, heart shattered—using any means necessary to bring down whoever stood in front of him!
After a whole night of frenzied fighting, Prince Nolan's stamina was completely drained. But he couldn't feel exhaustion—because his enemies were still standing...
Prince Nolan paid for it in blood, but it established him as someone no one here could ever hope to surpass.
From today on, every boy on Medicine Island knew—the youngest kid here was not to be messed with.
At dawn, the first ray of sunlight shone down on Prince Nolan, stretching his small figure longer and longer...
But while outsiders saw that no one dared cross Prince Nolan after this fight, how many realized that a half-grown kid, carrying such heavy wounds, still had to figure out how to survive?
Bones broken, white bone jutting out—he looked utterly miserable. But...
Even if he didn't die from his wounds, dragging himself around in such a state, Prince Nolan had almost no chance of survival. The odds of him ending up as a skeleton were sky-high. But...
Because death was so close, Prince Nolan's will only grew stronger. He forced himself to stay upright, knowing that if he collapsed, he'd never get up again!
Even with both legs broken, every step like walking on knife blades, Prince Nolan still managed to make it back to his hut, and then...
Too terrifying. This kid was truly terrifying. His body was covered in wounds, yet he walked over as if nothing had happened...
Did he not feel pain at all?
That thought flashed through the boy's mind, but the next second he couldn't think at all—because Ninth Royal Uncle was already upon him. That small, thin body suddenly seemed enormous.
He had no idea how long he'd drifted in that water. When Prince Nolan woke up, he found himself lying in bed, covered in bandages, every broken bone set and secured.
"Someone saved me?" Prince Nolan's dark eyes flashed, filled with disbelief and wariness.
Half a year living like this had taught Prince Nolan the harshness of survival. He didn't believe anyone would save him—or at least, not without a price...
Very soon, Prince Nolan's suspicions were confirmed.
That's right—no one here would save him without a reason. The only reason anyone helped was because Prince Nolan was now valuable; that fight had made others see him as someone worth recruiting.
Once he understood that, Prince Nolan calmly accepted reality, without a single complaint or hint of dissatisfaction.
Having value to others was better than having none at all; at least it meant Prince Nolan could keep living. As for who would use whom in the end... That would depend on who was the more skillful player!
His eyes were like daggers—just one glance made them feel as if they'd plunged into icy water.
This battle...
Prince Nolan paid for it in blood, but it established him as someone no one here could ever hope to surpass.
From today on, every boy on Medicine Island knew—the youngest kid here was not to be messed with.
That boy wasn't human—he was a god of slaughter. No matter who stood before him, he'd dare to kill, and he could do it too!
But while outsiders saw that no one dared cross Ninth Royal Uncle after this fight, how many realized that a half-grown kid, carrying such heavy wounds, still had to figure out how to survive?
With injuries this severe and no doctor or medicine nearby, even an adult would be doomed—let alone a child.
Even if he didn't die from his wounds, dragging himself around in such a state, Prince Nolan had almost no chance of survival. The odds of him ending up as a skeleton were sky-high. But...
Because death was so close, Prince Nolan's will only grew stronger. He forced himself to stay upright, knowing that if he collapsed, he'd never get up again!
Even with both legs broken, every step like walking on knife blades, Prince Nolan still managed to make it back to his hut, and then...
He jumped into that strange-smelling poisonous soup, letting it swallow him whole...
No medicine? Then poison would have to do. As long as he didn't die, he'd still be himself!
The moment he plunged in, Ninth Royal Uncle blacked out. Water kept pouring into his mouth and throat, like he was drowning. It was unbearable, but he had no strength to struggle, nor did he want to—because he knew this much water wouldn't kill him...
The moment he plunged in, Prince Nolan blacked out. Water kept pouring into his mouth and throat, like he was drowning. It was unbearable, but he had no strength to struggle, nor did he want to—because he knew this much water wouldn't kill him...
He had no idea how long he'd drifted in that water. When Prince Nolan woke up, he found himself lying in bed, covered in bandages, every broken bone set and secured.
"Someone saved me?" Prince Nolan's dark eyes flashed, filled with disbelief and wariness.
Half a year living like this had taught Prince Nolan the harshness of survival. He didn't believe anyone would save him—or at least, not without a price...
Very soon, Prince Nolan's suspicions were confirmed.
That's right—no one here would save him without a reason. The only reason anyone helped was because Prince Nolan was now valuable; that fight had made others see him as someone worth recruiting.
Once he understood that, Prince Nolan calmly accepted reality, without a single complaint or hint of dissatisfaction.
Having value to others was better than having none at all; at least it meant Prince Nolan could keep living. As for who would use whom in the end... That would depend on who was the more skillful player!