Chapter 497 You’re Not Worth Two Million BP [Part 2]

He took a few deep breaths to help calm himself.

"Daedalus, how much would it cost to make Zepharion my slave?" Leone asked.

"1,000,000 BP," Daedalus replied without hesitation.

The Guardian of the Aurelion Empire was seriously injured, and his rank had regressed to that of a Rank 6.

In his current state, Astravor and Lord Azar could easily kill him without too much effort.

But the moment he recovered, it would be extremely hard for the Garuda Gryphon and the Shanlong to catch him, even if the two of them worked together.

Zepharion was after all, an existence that had transcended the norms. A true powerhouse that could only be defeated by beings of the same rank as him.

"How long will it take for him to recover his strength?" Leone asked.

"People of his rank would not be able to heal easily," Daedalus replied. "If he recovers naturally, I believe he will recover to peak strength after two to five years. But if you want him to recover instantly, he would require a Legendary Grade Potion. That will cost another million BP."

"So, at least two million BP." Leone narrowed his eyes before shifting his attention toward Kael. "Where is he?"

"I can bring him to you, Great Chieftain." Kael bowed respectfully.

"Then bring him to me," Leone ordered.

A few minutes later, Astravor landed a few meters away from Leone and tossed the person he was holding in his arms to the ground.

He was none other than the Guardian of the Aurelion Empire, Zepharion.

His entire body was currently covered in blood, but Leone could still feel his powerful life force. It proved that Zepharion’s injuries weren’t enough to kill him.

"Do you have any last words?" Leone asked.

"Spare me!" Zepharion pleaded. "I promise I will never step into the Borderlands ever again! H-How about I convince the High King to become allies with you? If the Empire and the barbarians join hands, we can unify the entire continent! You can have half of the world in the palm of your hand. No. You can have two-thirds of it if you like!"

Although he was doing his best to flatter and pacify Leone, deep in his heart, Zepharion wanted nothing more than to tear this young man apart.

However, that was currently impossible.

The shackles that bound him prevented him from exerting his strength or using his abilities.

Truth be told, the Adamantine Shackles could hold Zepharion only because his injuries had significantly degraded his strength.

In his full strength, he could’ve easily torn apart these shackles binding him as if they were just a piece of paper.

’After I survive this, I will make sure you will pay with a brutal death!’ Zepharion vowed in his heart.

He then continued to make promises to Leone, painting a scene where the Aurelion Empire would help him achieve greatness and have his name written in the history books of the continent.

Little did he know that his continuous chatter only pushed Leone to decide how to best deal with him.

"Astravor, snap his neck," Leone ordered.

"W-Why?!" Zepharion asked in shock. He thought the young man wouldn’t kill him. After all, keeping him alive had more benefits. For example, he could demand a hefty ransom from the Aurelion Empire if he wanted to.

"Because you’re not worth two million BP," Leone replied coldly. "Scum like you don’t deserve to live."

"Wait! Please spare me!" Zepharion lowered his head and begged for mercy. "Make me your slave, I don’t care! I will follow you for life! I will obey your every order! If you want me to kill the High King of the Aurelion Empire, then I’ll kill him for you!"

The chieftains of the Borderlands watched this scene with solemn expressions on their faces.

Never in their wildest dreams did they think that the strongest person of the Aurelion Empire would beg and grovel at the feet of the youngest chieftain in the Borderlands in exchange for his life.

Zepharion was proud and arrogant.

He believed that he was above all, and that he should be revered and worshiped as a God.

In fact, he had even started a religion in the Aurelion Empire, hailing himself as the son of the God of Wind, Stribog.

That religion was none other than the Zepharion Church.

If he wasn’t the strongest powerhouse in the Empire, the High King would have already schemed to have him killed.

"N-No!" Zepharion struggled desperately as Astravor’s claws held his neck in a vice grip. "Y-You can’t do this to me... you cannnghhhhtzzzz!"

A moment later, the sound of something cracking reached everyone’s ears.

Sensing that Zepharion was truly and utterly dead, Astravor released his body, making it collapse on the ground with a thud.

"Jafar, come," Leone ordered.

"Yes, Great Chieftain." Jafar moved closer and bowed before the young man, who was now the leader of all the tribes in the Borderlands.

"Can you make use of this thing?" Leone pointed at the dead body of the once arrogant man who had met his end far from his home.

"I will not fail you," Jafar replied, doing his best to hide his excitement.

Although it would be hard to turn a powerful being into an undead zombie, the challenge was something he looked forward to.

Even if the zombie version of Zepharion turned out to be weaker than its living counterpart, it should still be strong enough to become an elite monster under Jafar’s command.

Leone killed Zepharion after weighing the pros and cons.

Two million BP wasn’t a price he could spend so casually, even if he possessed it.

But most importantly, he felt disgust just from looking at Zepharion. He was like a slimy eel that was clinging to life.

Also, with his arrogance, he would become problematic sooner or later. He didn’t belong to the Kingdom in Leone’s vision, so eliminating him now was the optimal choice.

He wasn’t like Hagen, whom the young man could still tolerate.

Sure, Hagen was also a piece of scum. But he was a piece of scum whom the young chieftain could understand and control.

Jafar happily stored Zepharion’s corpse inside the storage ring that was handed to him by Leone.

As soon as he returned to Aslan City, he would begin his experiments immediately!

The young man then shifted his attention toward the chieftains, the Elders, and the warriors who had all accompanied him in this war.

He then raised his closed fist to the heavens and shouted.

"Glory to the Borderlands!" Leone shouted, to which the resounding reply of the tribes resounded far and wide.

""Glory to the Borderlands!""

""Glory to the Borderlands!""

""Glory to the Borderlands!""

With his declaration, everyone felt that the battle had truly ended.

Both the victors and the defeated looked at the young chieftain, who would soon be crowned as the Barbarian King.

And with his rise to power, a new dawn would descend upon his domain, as well as the surrounding nations, who would soon hear the name of the new Barbarian King of the Borderlands.

His name was Leone Frontera.

The tribes of the Borderlands were no longer divided.

And the age of the Barbarian King was about to begin.