The King of Mercenaries.
Under normal circumstances, Tyron would have laughed in his face. Such an idea was absurd and utterly impossible.
A King of Mercenaries? That kind of nonsense was laughable. No such figure had ever existed in history.
Had he not lost the duel, he would have punched the fool for spouting such nonsense.
But...
There were a few decent lords, but their number was so small that they were soon devoured by their more ruthless peers.
If only I had power...
As a child, he had vowed that if he ever gained power, he would never live like them.
But what about now?
He had become nothing more than a nobleâs dog, preying on others to maintain his own survival. The resolve heâd had as a child was long gone, replaced by an insatiable hunger for power and wealth.
You didn't buy this chapter
Buy Now (3 coupons)