"However, it is too late. Even if you kneel down to beg me now!" Bram's voice rang cold and final, like an unyielding decree forged in steel.
The absolute certainty in his tone carried a deadly promise, shocking the hall into momentary silence.
"Is the Sixth Prince out of his mind?" one elder among the Azure Origin Dao Sect barked incredulously, his voice thick with disbelief mingled with anger.
"Pee and take good care of yourself. Do you want to take my life?" Bram retorted with razor-sharp sarcasm, his expression nothing but disdain.
"Idiots are talking about dreams," Ethan replied lightly, his dull, unreadable expression dismissing Bram's threats outright. His gaze was cold and level, revealing the depth of a mind that did not buy into empty bluster.
Ethan considered Bram a mere ant—small, weak, and unworthy of his respect.
If anyone was to be arrogant, it would be him. Twice as arrogant, three times as arrogant.