Prince Roland…
The sound of metal hitting metal rings through the air a lot harder than the tormented screams coming from the training ground a distance away.
Standing on the balcony of his palace, Prince Roland Zhang swept a hand through his hair beneath the large hoodie worn over his head and narrowed his red eyes.
He has a large cloak draped over his body to cover the large number of scales now outlining his entire torso and keep the frightened gaze of his men off the protruding bumps sticking out of his back on both sides of his spinal cord.
On his hands are thick leather gloves layered with hard skin to prevent his claws from pushing through the material, and despite the growing coat of perspiration forming on his body thanks to the blazing heat of the sun he dared not remove h
