“These clueless fools—can’t they see that kid has black hair? Seriously, how are their eyes even built?”

Time rewound just a few minutes earlier.

While Cang Xiaoxi was mocked by soldiers and adventurers, Prince Zhu Bajie indulged his greedy nature. He gathered every scattered monster material and stuffed them into his last remaining treasure—the Spatial Ring.

This mysterious ring, capable of storing vast amounts of items, was his sole valuable possession left. Even his secret “man’s romantic nest egg” was tucked safely inside.

Yet his looting wasn’t just greed. A far more crucial reason drove him.

“Seems the so-called [Silverfrost Dragon Queen] was slain by this unknown brat. Convenient—saves me the trouble.”

Prince Zhu Bajie had two goals for entering the ruins: find the mysterious black-haired youth for Lisdel, and confirm the [Silverfrost Dragon Queen]’s status.

Since the boy lived, the Dragon Sovereign was dead. Perfect—he could finally report back to that perennial runner-up “ally” who’d supplied the [Arcane Cannon]!

Heart racing, he resolved to grab more loot and vanish. Lisdel’s commission only required confirming the boy’s survival—not escorting him out. And if the boy truly killed the [Silverfrost Dragon Queen], these monster remains made sense.

How? Unknown. But provoking a beast capable of challenging the [Silverfrost Dragon Queen]? Prince Zhu Bajie already foresaw their doom.

*While the mantis hunts the cicada, the oriole lurks behind.*

For once, sharp reasoning guided him. Fish in troubled waters. The path here held no monsters; his mid-tier skills could handle the return trip.

“Hehehe… With this haul, rebuilding an army is easy. Restoring my throne? Child’s play. Soon, not even that thirteenth bitch—or Father—will stand against me.”

Joy lit his ugly face at the thought of wealth buying power. Lost in greed, he stuffed items into the Spatial Ring faster and faster—until a bloodstained giant blocked his path.

“Huh?! This claw… why’s the blood still wet? And where’d all this icy water come from?”

Wedged in stone, the massive claw and puddle of meltwater stole his attention. Curiosity won. He poked it.

The claw’s silky, high-grade fur instantly dazzled his gold-hungry eyes.

“Wakaka! This fur’s insane! By my expert eye, this monster’s at least mid-Transcendent Tier—maybe higher! How much would this sell for?!”

*Greed leads to downfall.*

Faced with such profit, Prince Zhu Bajie’s already-low IQ plummeted pitifully. Ignoring caution, he wrapped his arms around a claw-finger and yanked.

“Mmph… Stuck tight. Is this claw… still attached?”

Wiping oily sweat from his gleaming brow, he admitted his mid-tier strength wasn’t enough.

“No choice.” He set the claw down. “Hey! You few—come help me—”

*Gurgle… ROAR!*

“Huh?! Aaah!!! Oww! My royal butt!”

A black shadow slammed him flat before he finished. Rubbing his swollen rear, he froze as a roar shook the ruins to their core.

“Your Highness!”

Drawn by the sound, soldiers and adventurers abandoned their squabble and rushed over. Seeing their prince collapsed and trembling, they sprinted closer—

—but halted instantly.

“What… what *is* that?! How is it so huge?!”

Terror etched deep into weathered faces. As Fenrir pried open the stone crevice, its rugged fur revealing a colossal wolf-like form, swords clattered to the ground.

“Th-this… wh-what…”

On the floor, Prince Zhu Bajie finally saw Fenrir through the shadow swallowing him. He craned his neck upward.

Blood-streaked silver fur, noble even caked in dust. Each low snort vibrated the earth. Fenrir’s gaze locked onto every soul present—including him.

“H-help… h-help…”

Paralyzed by fear, he crawled weakly, dragging soiled trousers as he begged.

“Your Highness!”

Soldiers snapped awake. Fear lingered, but duty called. Even for show, they had to act. Swords drawn, they advanced.

*Grrr… ROAR!!!*

Facing dozens of “ants,” Fenrir’s growl alone froze them mid-step.

“Why stop?! Save me! Do you want to lose your heads?!” Prince Zhu Bajie shrieked.

But under Fenrir’s glare, the soldiers retreated. Not one dared charge.

Their cowardice crushed him. Desperate, he turned to the adventurers still appraising Fenrir’s worth.

“Save me! Name your price—I’ll pay anything! Keep everything here! Just SAVE ME!”

“You heard him, Your Highness,” an adventurer smirked.

Wicked grins spread. No loyalty to the prince—but a wounded treasure? Unthinkable to ignore.

“Heh. Leave this little puppy to me.” The tanky-looking adventurer cracked his knuckles, hefted his hammer, and strode forward, confidence blazing.

*Injured monster = easy prey.*

Cheered by three comrades, he charged, already picturing Fenrir collapsing.

“Die, you little mutt!”

*BOOM!*

A flash of blood. A strange liquid pooled beneath Fenrir’s feet—as the remaining adventurers cheered…