The Eldest Princess's palace was ablaze with lights. Every faction under her command had sent representatives to offer congratulations.
The Second Prince was already dead, and the Eldest Princess's greatest rival was gone. All that remained was to wait quietly.
"Power..."
Merlin shook his head helplessly. He had no particular feelings about power. Back in the Void Realm, he had even been the supreme ruler of a vast civilization—but what use had that been? The strong could wipe out an immense civilization in the blink of an eye.
Power was merely a means by which the weak hoped to control the strong. True powerhouses had not the slightest interest in it. The Royal Family's old ancestors were like that, and so was Feilong; none of them had any special fondness for power.
Even the Doomsday Blood Butcher had handed various affairs over to those close to him. Once such powerhouses truly stood at the summit, who would still covet a little power?
The Eldest Princess was no powerhouse. Even though she had inherited the Royal Family's Top-Tier Behemoth Bloodline, the Fourth Beastification Form was already the limit of what she could achieve.
Any further breakthrough, becoming a Full Beastification powerhouse, was simply impossible.
The current king was also only at the Fourth Beastification Form and had never reached Full Beastification. One had to know that once someone with a Top-Tier Behemoth Bloodline became a Full Beastification powerhouse, even if they had only just entered that realm, they would be terrifyingly powerful—likely second only to formidable existences like Feilong, whose talent power had nearly been developed to its limit.
"Leo, tell me, who else can stop us now?"
The Eldest Princess had applied a great deal of lipstick. Beneath the dim yellow candlelight, it looked somewhat crimson, alluring beyond measure. Yet