From the pure blood dragon clan, I started to become a human being

Chapter 553 Yang Sword
Outside window number 366.

Several shirtless men were sitting cross-legged on the ground. The cigarettes gave off the smell of inferior quality. The edges of the cards were rolled up. If you were a thoughtful guy, you could distinguish the subtle differences and remember the cards. The shuttle between the inner and outer world was not there. A few, so a lot has been passed down.

"Isn't this Shudemel?"

The strong man at the head put out his cigarette and looked the person up and down. He only had a vague impression of this guy, but the leader requested that all professionals above the first level be informed of the matter. Only then did he discover the person during the statistics.

Several other people also threw away their cards and stood up.

"At twelve o'clock tonight, avoid the guards in front of the passage and come to the big wooden house in the center. You are a half-elf. You should know that you will not live long here."

After the strong man finished speaking in a low voice, he glanced at the guards next to each passageway from the corner of his eye, and then stretched out his hand to violently push the guy in front of him.

One of the heirs of the original sin factor [Jealous Witch] once committed a crime that almost destroyed half the world in legend. Because she was a half-elf, half-elves were hated by the people. This was somewhat alleviated on the Sword Slave Island. , after all, there are no so-called good people on an isolated island, and the disgust suffered by those who commit atrocities is even more real. However, nobles can buy slaves they like, which is more fatal to half-elves.

"Let's talk again."

Jiang Yuan shook his head slightly. Faced with this kind of attack that was full of flaws, he reached forward directly, blocked the opponent's elbow, and then got close and kicked the back of his neck.

As he pushed backwards, someone stood in front of the dining window. The strong man staggered for several meters before falling heavily to the ground. There was neither a broken arm nor a dislocated cervical vertebra. Several sword slaves nearby saw this person. With the intention of keeping his hands, he involuntarily gave way to the space in front of the window. Although sword slaves are property and are prohibited from fighting during non-performance times, there are actually many angry guys. Without swords, the scene sometimes becomes more violent.

The guards just turned around and glanced, and when they saw that there was no blood, they turned their attention back to the dangerous elements.

In front of the window, Jiang Yuan picked up his day's food, five pieces of grain cakes, a large bowl of slightly turbid soup, a few fish sticks as long as fingers, mixed with a large number of bone spurs, and indistinguishable fish meat. Stew or vomit pureed wild vegetables.

There was a brief silence.

Jiang Yuan walked back into the house and ate the multigrain cake with an expressionless face. The notice board on the wall recorded the opponents he would fight in the afternoon, but no matter how bad the enemy was, it was probably not as difficult to deal with as the food at hand.

……

Within the empire, the Earldom of Delton.

There was an inexplicable tense atmosphere in the room, which made the old housekeeper straighten his back.

After nearly fifty years of continuous service and two generations, loyalty has been deeply engraved in the bones because of kindness.

The tea cup containing black tea was picked up by a smooth and white hand. The owner of the hand patiently tasted the aroma of the tea. The time, water temperature, method of steaming the tea leaves, and even the details of the shower were all above the standard.

"Ma'am, how does it taste?"

The old butler asked with implicit expectation.

"The smell is acceptable, the taste..."

What follows is a cold and critical evaluation, which makes people surprised that "trampling" on high-quality tea can actually bring about such cruel accusations.

This is simply a personal attack... The light in the old housekeeper's eyes faded, and all he could see was the madam's devilishly cold expression.

For the master who has not had a God-given marriage for a long time, this is a very late first marriage. The old housekeeper is sincerely happy, even though the woman is only twelve years old.

Not uncommon, but still surprising, because the master is nearly fifty this year, and this marriage will not bring any help. The girl in front of him seems to appear out of nowhere. The ceremony of choosing the emperor has just ended not long ago. If the other party is Members of the losing side's aristocratic supporters may be setting up a crisis.

But her beauty was dazzling, like a burning red flame.

Priscilla Delton

The wife of the master Jura Delton. "...But considering the current situation, overall, I can give a fair evaluation."

The butler focused his eyes in disbelief, and he didn't know if this was a compliment or not, which instantly eliminated the trace of dissatisfaction that had just emerged.

The girl put down the tea cup leisurely. Serving her was tantamount to being dominated. The old man's bounden duty was so boring.

"Stand back. I have something to tell my husband."

"As ordered."

The old butler walked out of the door with the desire to improve his tea making method next time, and there were only two people left in the room.

"Everyone is fascinated by you."

A hoarse voice sounded, and the man on the sofa had gray hair. Even though he inherited a higher family background, it had nothing to do with being described as domineering. When talking to his wife, he seemed to be trembling, which completely deviated from "The nation must be brave." The social atmosphere of "brave".

"Next time before you speak in a cringe-worthy tone, remember to close the window, otherwise I won't be able to tell the difference between you and the sound of the wind." Priscilla said lightly.

"I...I just want to say that the servants seem to accept you...you." The old earl was a little at a loss.

"It has nothing to do with accepting or not, it's just about obeying. They are people who have no other way to survive except serving. As long as I show the direction, I will immediately follow you with my tail wagging."

"That's it...that's it."

Priscilla sighed, she really had no interest in defeating her.

"I should have already revealed my identity to you."

The old count scratched his head and looked puzzled.

Princess Plisca, the woman who was rumored to have lost and died in the Emperor Selection Ceremony, managed to survive through the efforts of all parties, including the Blood Emperor's tolerance, and made an honorable exit with poisoned wine.

"What are you pretending to do?"

"I didn't... intend to hand you over or use you. These are all true words." The old count raised his hands in surrender. He and the other party's grandmother were old friends.

"Forget it, it doesn't matter what your plans are." Priscilla said halfheartedly: "After all, the world is tailor-made for me."

As a direct bloodline of the emperor, when the ceremony of electing the emperor is activated, those who pass the first test can obtain the right to use the world-class item Yang Sword. Even if it is divided into ten handles, the power will not be reduced in any way.

The fact that the princess is not dead means that the ceremony of choosing the emperor has not yet completely ended, and she still controls the use of the Yang Sword.

Of course, even without this weapon, Priscilla's unique philosophy would not have any flaws, not to mention she has the [protection of the sun].

"Sir, I'm very sorry." The butler knocked on the door and walked in and said, "The special envoy of Selina's superior count is here and wants to invite you to watch the game on Sword Slave Island."

Later, the two envoys were allowed into the living room.

The young man is seventeen or eighteen years old and has the secret ability to control flying dragons.

The short man is his elder brother and is even more powerful.

(End of this chapter)