I was a prince in the Middle East

Chapter 10 Insane! A Prince's Duel Without a Knife!

In an instant, the air seemed to freeze into solid ice, so heavy that it was impossible to breathe.

The wealthy and powerful who had been laughing so blatantly just moments before now had all color drained from their faces, their eyes filled with horror and belated fear.

They suddenly realized that what they had just mocked was not only a "foolish" young prince, but also the dignity of the behemoth that was the Talal faction!

That amount was enough to crush them and their families to dust!
Cold sweat silently seeped from the foreheads and temples of many people.

but……

"you!"

A low growl, suppressing rage, shattered the deathly silence of the icy surface.

Several equally young princes suddenly stood up from their seats, their faces ashen.

They came from a branch that had a long-standing feud or rivalry with the Talal faction. Young and hot-blooded, they were thoroughly enraged by Walid's blatant and merciless public humiliation.

The leader was tall and had an arrogant look in his eyes.

It was a powerful young member of the Sudri faction. He stared intently at Walid, his fists clenched so tightly they cracked, and he exuded a dangerous aura.

"Walid, you're too arrogant!"

The air was thick with the smell of gunpowder, ready to explode at any moment!
Walid smiled coldly, his gaze like an icy probe, piercing precisely into the arrogant face of the ringleader, clearly pronouncing his name:
"Mansur bin Muqrin bin Abdul."

Prince Mansour's father, Prince Muqrin bin Abdul, is the current Second Deputy Prime Minister of the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia and is also the second in line to the throne!
His family is deeply rooted in the core of the Sudri faction and wields immense power, making them certainly qualified to challenge Walid, the heir of the Talal faction, at this moment!
Under the watchful eyes of the crowd, some surprised and others eager for a show, Walid made a move that stunned everyone.

He reached out as if no one else was there, picked up a chilled, red-fleshed watermelon from the silver platter that the waiter had frozen in mid-air, and took a slow, deliberate bite.

Bright red juice slid down his sharply defined jawline, but he didn't care at all, as if the tense scene before him was less important than this piece of watermelon.

"what……"

After a brief silence, suppressed laughter spread through the crowd like ripples.

"Is he...is he paralyzed with fear?"

"Eating watermelon? God, does he even know what he's doing?"

"The Talal faction has completely lost face today!"

The laughter grew louder and louder, filled with undisguised contempt and schadenfreude.

Prince Mansur's tense face also showed a deep contempt, and his previous shock and anger were replaced by a kind of "so that's all there is to it" disdain.

Walid remained calm and slowly finished eating, then spat a few dark watermelon seeds into his palm.

The surroundings were still filled with sneers and discussions about his earlier "100 million dollar bet on a draw".

The powerful and wealthy whispered among themselves, their eyes sweeping over him with undisguised contempt.

In their eyes, this young heir of the Talal lineage was nothing more than a spoiled brat who was arrogant and ignorant of his place, and was trying to save face on Prince Bandar's territory with such absurd behavior.

He lowered his head, his long, slender fingers fiddling with the watermelon seeds in his palm.

"one two Three……"

At first, this abrupt action only drew a few louder bursts of laughter and a few sarcastic remarks of "playing tricks."

However, as Walid's steady counting voice clearly pierced through the noise, and he counted to "three," the whispers around him began to subside unconsciously.

Some people stared at his fingers as he fiddled with the melon seeds, their curiosity tinged with a hint of amusement and their mockery still lingering.

The counting sound was neither fast nor slow, yet it carried a strange penetrating power.

When the count reached "ten" or higher, the noise in the entire hall seemed to be swept away layer by layer by an invisible tide.

The mocking smiles froze on many people's faces, and the whispers turned into bewildered and confused stares.

A strange unease began to quietly spread among the crowd.

The air seemed to freeze, and only Walid's counting could be heard in the hall.

"...twelfth, thirteenth."

After counting the last seed, Walid raised his head, the nonchalance on his face completely gone, leaving only an icy coldness.

He didn't even glance at Mansour, whose expression had subtly changed, and spoke in a chillingly calm tone:
"Little Angarry".

Angari, who had been standing half a step behind Walid like a shadow, immediately stepped forward upon hearing the voice, placed his right hand on his chest, bowed at a 45-degree angle, his posture extremely respectful, and his voice as calm as still water:

"Your Highness."

Walid opened his palm, letting the watermelon seeds slip and fall, hitting the polished marble floor with a subtle yet startling crisp sound:
"Notify old Angari."

Effective immediately, the usage rate for all crude oil transported by the Mukhrin family through the Talal oil pipeline will be increased by 26%.

The fees for all cargo handling, storage and passage at ports controlled by the Talal Group have been increased by 26% in tandem.

Execute immediately.

26%!

This is fucking heart-wrenching!

The Mukhrin family transports far more than ten million barrels of crude oil annually through the Talal pipeline system.

The value of the goods handled by the port is far more than tens of billions.
This seemingly casual upward adjustment can instantly evaporate hundreds of millions of US dollars!

Is this showing off?
Although everyone present knew in their hearts that this was Walid's slap in the face for showing off.

However, they also have to admit that Walid's act of putting on airs was so damn refreshingly unique!
This level of wealth... truly befits the incredibly wealthy Talal clan!
However, what sent chills down the spines of all the young princes and nobles present was:
They can't act cool at their age!
It's not something they can act cool at their age!
Behind them are their families and the power of their fathers; every move they make is like walking on thin ice.

Walid is different! He is the sole heir of the Talal line, the only son whom Prince Khalid dotes on and spoils!

He not only has the immense resources to show off, but also the absolute ability to control the core lifeline of the Talal system to carry out this show!
He himself is an extension of the will of the Talar faction!

Besides, this isn't about showing off.
This is clearly a slow, agonizing death, draining the blood of an entire family!

The Talar oil pipeline is a noose around everyone's neck!

The port gates of the Talal faction are like steel millstones that can crush any resistance!

And that "mascot" who had just been trampled underfoot and mocked by them was now standing there, his eyes icy, his words sharp as knives, a single word that could decide life and death!

He's not some kind of "fool" at all.
He is clearly the "King Yama" who holds the power of life and death!
To mock him?
That's like dancing in front of the King of Hell's palace, as if your family lives too long!

“Your Highness, your will is the law of the Talal clan. I will inform you immediately.”

What chilled everyone to the bone even more was Angari's answer.

Follow your words.

Without the slightest hesitation.

It was as if this decision, which would cause a huge family excruciating pain, was merely a trivial matter given by the master.

boom!
It was like a thunderclap exploding in Prince Mansur's mind!

As he watched Angari pull out his phone and start notifying people, the color drained from his face instantly, and he even swayed slightly.

26%!

This is by no means a small amount!

His father, Prince Muqrin, was indeed the Second Deputy Prime Minister, wielding immense power.

However, the family business is vast, with numerous offspring, leading to fierce competition!
If the father knew that just because of his momentary slip of the tongue, the operating costs of the family's core business had instantly skyrocketed by 26%...

Mansur felt a chill run from the soles of his feet straight to the top of his head, as if he could already hear the crisp sound of his legs being broken!

Walid's icy gaze finally turned to another young prince who had stood up next to Mansur.

He did not ask any questions.

As precise as a top-notch intelligence machine, Little Angari immediately whispered his report in his ear, his voice not loud, but loud enough for several people nearby to hear clearly:

“Your Highness, this is Prince Saud ibn Suwayda, from the Utaibi family.”

The Utaibi family is an ancient noble family of the Utaibi tribe in northern Saudi Arabia.

The family had a long history of military achievements and was extremely wealthy.

The "Camel Kings" of the nomadic era of the peninsula, and one of the "Three Strongmen of Najd" tribes upon which the Saudi royal family rose to power.

While being courted and relied upon by the royal family to guard the northern border, they remained on the periphery of the inner circle due to their distance from the power center in Riyadh.

Saud bin Suwayda looked extremely grim.

He glanced at Prince Bandar, whose face was ashen and whose lips were moving as if he wanted to say something, and a struggle flashed in his eyes.

But finally, under Walid's cold gaze, the defiant prince gritted his teeth and let out a muffled groan of resentment, his face darkening, and spoke very slowly, yet with unparalleled clarity...

He returned to his seat.

He has eight brothers, and he admits defeat!
Silence, yet more impactful than any words!
Like dominoes falling, the young princes who had stood up in anger or to take sides either looked away or were sweating profusely, and eventually sat down sheepishly.

They didn't even dare to make eye contact with Walid.

Walid's gaze finally settled back on the deathly pale face of Mansur bin Muqrin. A cold, cruel smile slowly curved his lips:

“Mansour, for Uncle Muklin’s sake, I’ll give you a chance.”

He extended his index finger and gently shook it:
“1000 million US dollars, now, bet on a 'tie' with me. So,”

Walid paused, his voice like ice beads falling on a jade plate, "I can consider... halving that 26% increase just now. Only 13%."

Damn! This guy really nailed the act today, he even made me want to type "666" (a Chinese internet slang for "awesome").

However, these words are quite shocking to others.

This is hardly an opportunity.

This is blatant humiliation and extortion!
They used the family's huge losses to force Mansour to bow down in public and demanded that he put up real money to back that absurd bet!

They were relentlessly pursuing and killing him.

Prince Mansur's face instantly turned from white to green, and then from green to a purplish-red like a pig's liver!
Extreme anger, fear, and humiliation gnawed at his heart like venomous snakes!

"Walid! You...you're going too far!!"

He practically forced the roar out of his chest, his voice distorted and twisted with extreme rage.

Walid tilted his head slightly, his gaze as if looking down at an ant:

“No, Mansour. This is not bullying.”

His voice was eerily calm, “This is the price you have to pay for daring to openly challenge the dignity of the Talal faction.”

"you--!!"

Prince Mansur was driven mad by the seemingly casual yet incredibly heavy word "price"!
The string of reason snapped instantly!

Amidst everyone's horrified gazes, he suddenly ripped off the expensive white robe and cloak that symbolized his princely status and dignity!

scoff!

The sound of exquisite fabric tearing was particularly jarring in the deathly silent hall.

He gripped his cloak tightly with both hands, his knuckles white, his body trembling violently with extreme rage. His bloodshot eyes, like those of a trapped beast, were fixed on Walid's face, and a hoarse growl rolled from his throat:

"Walid!!"

Time seemed to freeze at this moment.

Everyone who witnessed this scene felt as if their heart was being squeezed by an invisible hand!

The ancient and sacred dueling ceremony of the Bedouin tribe – throwing robes as proof!
This is no longer a verbal dispute or economic sanctions; it is a final declaration of war, one that will not hesitate to fight to the death!
Both sides rode on their mounts, wielding curved swords, and fought until one side was completely defeated.

Dead!

However, this deathly silence lasted only a moment!
Like a red-hot iron thrown into ice water, the entire hall instantly boiled with a "buzz"!
Those powerful figures who had just been silenced by Walid's arrogant sanctions suddenly gleamed with a light in their eyes that was even more intense and naked than when they had mocked him as a "spendthrift"!
That's the excitement of onlookers seeing a shocking revelation, the fervor of spectators eagerly anticipating a good show!

I haven't seen a duel like this in at least twenty years.

"Robe-throwing duel! It's a robe-throwing duel!"

"Crazy...crazy!"

"His Highness Mansur is getting serious!"

Countless gazes swept wildly between the enraged Mansour and the still calm Walid.

The air was thick with barely suppressed, excited whispers as everyone frantically assessed the impending, bloody conflict.

"His Highness Mansour is a proper Air Force Lieutenant Colonel!"

Although... well, the combat skills of Saudi soldiers... well, those who know, know.

Mansur, being a prince, was pampered and his body was undoubtedly weakened by wine and women.

But they were real professional soldiers!

With his physical abilities and fighting skills, taking down a few ordinary people would be a piece of cake!
"On the other hand, His Highness Walid..."

My God! How long has he been awake from his coma? Three months!
Even with money and advanced technology, a patient in a vegetative state for over seven years is only the beginning of recovery!
Forget comparing him to professional soldiers, he probably couldn't even beat a strong bodyguard, right?

"Heh, I think even if he hadn't been unconscious, he would still be a weakling compared to a professional soldier."

"But the rules of the desert are ironclad!"
Throwing down my robe as proof, my response is to bleed five steps.

To refuse... that's cowardly, a disgrace to the entire tribe, and you'll never be able to hold your head up in royal circles again!

No matter how much Prince Khalid favors him, and no matter how wealthy the Talal faction is, they can't silence the public outcry or salvage his crumbling reputation!

Prince Suer sneered inwardly!

This is his real scheme!
That damn sanctions!

Whether it's 26% or 13%!

The enormous losses that would result would be far beyond what he could bear!
Going back would definitely result in my father skinning me alive in his rage!

But if he can force the precious heir of the Talal lineage, the one to receive the "miracle of God," to back down and become a coward despised by tribal tradition, right before everyone's eyes today...

That would completely change the situation!
He will not only escape punishment, but will also become a hero!

Because of the monopoly over oil pipelines and ports...

Throughout Saudi Arabia, who doesn't secretly complain that "the people of the world have suffered under the Talal regime for far too long"?

He was certain that when he got home, his father would outwardly make him go to Prince Khalid to apologize, but he would also take the opportunity to force Prince Khalid to cancel that deadly punishment!

At the same time, it can also nail that damned Walid to the pillar of shame of the royal family!

Mansour's face broke into a mocking smile.

A spoiled brat is a spoiled brat!

So what if it's a miracle from God?

Ultimately, those who use their brains decide the fate of the world!
Out of the corner of his eye, he glanced around and caught glimpses of the sudden realization, followed by awe, and even a hint of excitement in the eyes of many powerful figures.

Clearly, they also understood the brilliance of his desperate counterattack!
This made Mansour even more smug!
However, what instantly unsettled him was that damned Walid on the other side also had a smile on his face!
The smile was eerily calm, devoid of any fear or anger, rather as if...

It was like watching a monkey show starring Mansur!
Mansur was burning with rage and made a tough decision.

Under the gaze of countless shocked eyes, he mustered all his strength and prepared to slam the cloak that represented his status and honor down at Walid's feet!

A close call!
A figure darted between Walid and Mansour like a cheetah.

Muhammad!

He moved with lightning speed, snatching the cloak from mid-air!
The cloak that symbolized a will to die ultimately failed to touch the ground!

"Muhammad! What do you mean?!"

Mansur was shocked, then enraged.

"You know nothing! You idiot!"

A gloomy voice rang out like a thunderclap.

Turki strode out of the shadows, his face ashen.

He yelled directly at the enraged Mansour, "My brother is saving your life!"

"If it weren't for the fact that you belong to the same Sudri faction as us, I wouldn't care whether you live or die today, you idiot!"

He snorted coldly, his disdain undisguised.

He shrugged, raised his hand and pointed at Walid, who still wore that eerie, calm smile, and roared at the completely bewildered Mansour.

"He has a lion! An eight-year-old Kruger lion! Weighing 250 kilograms!"

It's the kind you can ride! Do you understand?!

You want to fight him? Mansour! Are you fucking looking to die?! And this isn't the way to do it!

boom!
Turki's words were like pouring a bucket of cold water into boiling oil!
The entire hall erupted in chaos!

The dignitaries who were just moments ago excitedly assessing the two men's fighting skills were now dumbfounded, their eyes practically popping out of their sockets!

lion?!
This is not scary!
It's not unusual for nobles to keep wild beasts as pets!
but……

A rideable lion?!
This doesn't just mean the lion has been completely domesticated; it means that it has completely submitted to its master, both mentally and physically, willingly bearing his weight and obeying his commands.

This is simply unbelievable in a wild lion pride; it is the ultimate symbol of absolute dominance!

In the era of cold weapons, this would have been a deadly weapon on the battlefield!
Regardless of what kind of camel Mansour is riding, it's just adding to Walid's lions' feast!
This is hardly a duel.

It was a one-sided massacre!

That scene...it was too beautiful...I can't even imagine it!

Let alone people, even camels would be so scared they'd run away as fast as their legs could carry them!
……

(End of this chapter)