He was the Pope of the Norse Kingdom, the most authoritative, powerful, and influential person in all of Europe.
Rumors say that the power of the Norse pope is close to that of a god.
Even if all the powerful people in the Nordic region were to unite, they would not be a match for His Highness the Pope.
When the cabinet ministers, members of the royal family, and even the head of state of the Great Eagle Empire met the Pope, they all bowed deeply at a ninety-degree angle to express their most sincere respect.
"The Chinese killed over 100,000 British soldiers and dozens of cabinet members?" The Pope was clearly skeptical of this news.
His brows were furrowed, and a faint, terrifying aura emanated from his body.
“Your Holiness, we have all witnessed the terror of that young man. I have already sent people to investigate. That young man is named Ye Feng, and he is the Lord of the Dragon Soul Hall!”
"Night Wind?" Upon hearing this name, the nearly 100-year-old man frowned once again.
This was the second time he had heard this name.
The William family suffered greatly at his hands, and their influence within the Dragon Kingdom has completely vanished.
That kid also did something earth-shattering in the island nation.
"Night wind! It's the night wind again!"
"Ahhh!"
"It was this night wind that made me flee back from the Dragon Kingdom in such a sorry state!" Suddenly, a masked figure behind the Pope let out a series of frenzied roars.
"Viking! I want you and several Norse warriors to personally travel to the Dragon Kingdom and bring back that brat's head!"
"Can you do it?" the Pope asked coldly.
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