A line of blood trickled down his wrist, dripping into the intricate pattern, intent on filling the entire design with fresh blood.
He had activated an ancient Forbidden Technique.
To possess supreme power, he had to drain all the strength of the Wolf Clan.
Power, that word, he longed for it intensely.
All he wanted was power...
There was a hatred in his heart, driving him to obliterate the world, as this might offer him some relief.
He refused to be powerless again, to be dominated by anyone, to have his fate entwined by others.
Only by becoming the sovereign of the world could he have anything he desired, could things be exactly as he wished.
Therefore, he needed power, overwhelming power, the more, the better...
The anguished howls of wolves reached his ears.
Such heart-wrenching, such painful hoarseness...
As the gale roared, an endless stream of power from all directions fused into his body, filling every limb and bone with strength.
