Kingdom Bloodline

Chapter 108 Chaman Lumba
"Okay, he's awake..."

Thales woke up amidst a chaotic crowd and opened his eyes to see Ramon's large nose.

What happened just now?

The magic gun hit me...

Is this yet another instance of things getting out of control?
He was panting. Ramon was pushed out of his sight, followed by Putila's thin face, Wyah's anxious expression, and half of Eda's face under her cloak.

"What's wrong?" Thales asked weakly.

"Make way! Make way! Show some respect to the doctor!" Ramon's disgruntled voice came from the side. "Give us some space! His Highness needs further examination!"

The three faces disappeared from view, and Ramon's big nose reappeared.

"How am I?" Thales asked softly, feeling his entire body.

“You’re doing very well now. In fact, most people don’t have your kind of vitality and resilience…” Ramon, looking disheveled, frowned and said, “But your body…”

“Alright,” Thales interrupted him, struggling to sit up, stretching his right arm, and looking around. “This is not the time to talk about this.”

Ramon clearly felt something was wrong with his body... but how could they talk about it in a place like this?
But Ramon didn't seem willing to give up, and his next words made Thales clench his fists.

“Listen, Your Highness,” Ramon said through gritted teeth as he bandaged his shoulder, which he had just injured in the melee, “Others may not know, but I can feel it: those magic guns didn’t miss… you tampered with them to make them inaccurate…”

what?
Thales tried his best to control his astonishment and not let himself appear overly surprised.

What did he know?
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Thales replied curtly. “I should get up…and tell them the prince is alright.”

But Ramon continued to grumble with dissatisfaction, "Whether it's superpowers or whatever... judging from their reactions, I guess it's not something everyone knows, but that's okay, I'm not interested in your secrets, except for one thing..."

He lowered his head and said fiercely, "Let me go once we cross the border. I never want to join your damned journey again! Otherwise..."

"Or what?" Thales whirled around, glaring angrily. "Use your power to bring the dead against me?"

Ramon was slightly taken aback.

“You’re not a doctor, Ramon,” Thales said coldly in a low voice. “Yes, I know that perfectly well: the power you use to heal and save lives is something else entirely…”

“I guess this isn’t something everyone knows, is it?” He looked at Ramon’s incredulous expression and tapped his forehead.

"Let's talk about this later."

Thales stood up, leaving Ramon stunned.

The magical gun troops in the distance had already withdrawn. The Wrath Guard was cleaning up the battlefield, tying their comrades' bodies with ropes, their faces filled with grief and anger.

Damn.

Thales sighed and clenched his fist: If this is all I'll have to face from now on...

Damn.

He looked up, and Exter's camp was right in front of him.

"What happened?" Thales walked with difficulty toward Putilay, waving his hand to indicate that he was alright: "The Exter people... let us go?"

“They retreated after their first shot failed,” Puttier frowned at Thales. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

“I’m fine, I was just exhausted... I feel great now,” Thales said firmly.

"What exactly is a magic gun?" Thales asked, clutching his chest, still shaken.

“A powerful weapon for both siege and defense,” Putila shook his head, “but each shot is expensive, hard to come by, and inefficient.”

No.

wrong.

It's not that simple—from its strange name to its mysterious working principle.

Thales thought to himself.

"Excuse me for speaking frankly, Your Highness, are you really alright? You even stopped breathing just now..." Wyman shook his head worriedly and walked to his side.

“I told you, I’m fine right now,” Thales interrupted him coldly. “We have more important things to do.”

Wyman frowned.

This is a secret I must keep.

Sorry.

Thales looked up, feeling apologetic towards Wyman, and gazed ahead.

"What is that?" Thales squinted.

Not far ahead, the battered and bruised Alaka was glaring angrily at a gray-helmed knight on horseback.

“One of Exter’s ‘Five Warriors,’ the wielder of the legendary anti-magic weapon ‘Rising Sun Saber,’” Putila said warily, “the Fiery Knight, Rom Tuleha.”

“Lumba sent him alone, seemingly to make peace,” Putila shook his head. “If Lumba had really gone mad and wanted to kill us all, why did he stop halfway?”

Yes.

Ultimately, Rumba had no reason to kill me.

Then why...

“But we’ve come this far,” Putila said slowly, “there’s no turning back.”

Thales nodded slightly.

"Are you Prince Thales?" Tuleha saw Thales from afar.

“I am Rom Ford Tuleha,” the gray-helmeted knight said slowly, glancing warily at Arakka. “Lord Chaman Lumba invites you to meet with him.”

Thales sighed and strode forward.

“The Grand Duke of Black Sands… I thought he would be more friendly,” Thales looked around at the charred corpses on the ground and the wounded soldiers and mission members, suppressing his dissatisfaction, “instead of making a hypocritical invitation after killing most of our people.”

Tuleha raised his head and looked at the distant Broken Dragon Fortress.

“If you have any objections, you may ask the Grand Duke himself,” the Fiery Knight said, his eyes sharp and penetrating beneath his gray helmet. “I am only responsible for bringing you before him.”

Thales gritted his teeth and exhaled.

Just then, Arakka, his face contorted with rage, strode toward Tuleha: "Have you forgotten something, Exter?"

The kingdom's wrath is filled with fury.

“Forget about you, Arakka, go back,” Tuleha said, turning his horse around as he looked at the unfriendly-looking King of the Kingdom. “The Grand Duke does not welcome you…neither you nor your guards.”

"You're just here to escort the prince, aren't you?"

“Rumba doesn’t welcome me? Are you kidding me?” Alaka said viciously. “His brother died at his hands, and his father died at my hands—with such commonalities, we should get along very well.”

Thales frowned.

“Especially since I killed so many of his soldiers, and he killed so many of mine…” Alaka said coldly, “We’re bound to become ‘good friends.’”

"The battle is over, and you cannot change its outcome," Tuleha replied nonchalantly, as if he were already used to the other party's provocation: "The dead are certainly worthy of remembrance, but the living must not forget their mission."

"What is your mission, Arakka?"

Arakka lowered his head and looked at a charred corpse not far away, which was tied to a makeshift tow rope. His fists clenched tighter and tighter.

“You fought bravely, but your mission is accomplished.” Tuleha looked coldly at his opponent: “You should be glad we didn’t take the opportunity to seize the immovable bow.”

"Why don't you give it a try?" Arakka fiercely grabbed the Immovable Bow and planted one end in the snow. "You brought that knife with you, didn't you?"

“One day, I will,” Tuleha said, his eyes gleaming, then he shook his head. “But not now.”

“One day,” he said slowly, “we will settle all our blood debts.”

Arakka stared intently at him, letting out an unsettling sneer.

"Your Highness?" Tuleha didn't look at Arakka again. He nodded slightly on his horse and then reached out towards the military camp.

Thales glanced at Putila, who gave him a supportive look.

“I don’t think we have any other choice, do we?” Thales looked at the gray-helmeted knight, who smiled slightly at him.

“Alright,” Thales looked at the wrecked battlefield, exhaled, and walked forward. “Let’s go see who hosted this welcoming ceremony.”

Thales looked at Arakka, whose expression was unreadable, and said, "Thank you, Baron Mu."

“And your… Wrath of the Kingdom,” Thales added hesitantly.

Arakka did not respond; he simply watched silently as his guards cleaned up the battlefield.

Thales sighed and lowered his head. He turned and walked toward the military camp.

Putila was the first to catch up with Thales, followed closely by Wyatt and Rolf, while Ada looked around at the corpses and walked to the back of the group.

Willow helped Jenard up, while Ramon followed reluctantly, shoved by several soldiers.

"child!"

Thales turned around in surprise.

On the snow, Alaka lowered his head and tucked the Immovable Bow back into his back.

“More than half of my soldiers, including your delegation, have died,” the Wrath of the Kingdom said quietly, “just to bring you here.”

Arakka Mu raised his head, his eyes filled with emotions that Thales could not decipher:
"Don't let them die in vain."

Thales was taken aback.

But the kingdom's wrath has already turned.

Arakka grabbed a rope, dragged the bodies of four or five soldiers, and walked back the way he came without looking back.

Behind him followed the remaining members of the Wrathful Guard, along with the bodies of their comrades, some intact and some mutilated, dragged across the snow by ropes.

His back view was forlorn.

----

The Exter camp appeared wild and rough, with walls simply constructed from tree trunks felled from the nearby needle forest, and tents for the soldiers to rest made of thick branches. But what impressed Thales more were the Exter people themselves.

They were just too "enthusiastic".

Thales even suspected that if Tuleha hadn't been leading the way on horseback, the people of Exeter would have pounced on them.

The Exter soldiers on guard glared menacingly at the planetary astronauts, and one sentry even spat viciously at the ground.

A troop of cavalrymen who had just returned to camp passed by them, looked at their raised star banners, and let out a provocative laugh.

“Go back, Southerners,” an Exter soldier carrying heavy armor and a greatsword shouted disgustedly at the delegation. “The North does not welcome Imperials!”

"Keep dreaming about your empire!" A burly man, shirtless and sitting by the fire sharpening a giant axe, roared, pounding his chest. "First, you'll have to give up our territory! The North belongs to the Northmen!"

"They killed our prince, and now they send a child to sue for peace!" As they passed the circle of soldiers seated on the left, a leading soldier pointed at the delegation and shouted, "This is the shamelessness of the 'Empire'!"

The people around them echoed angrily, glaring at them.

"Do you know why?" the soldier shouted. "Because we slaughtered all the men in their country twelve years ago!"

Those around him burst into laughter, echoing him: "They should send a princess!"

“A little boy will do,” one soldier said sarcastically, “as long as he’s good-looking enough—we don’t care if it’s in the front or the back!”

Another burst of laughter followed.

“Should I be surprised?” Thales looked up and sighed. “Or is this how the Exterans greet the Star People?”

“Don’t be surprised, Your Highness,” Putila said casually to the stiff-faced Thales.
"For more than six hundred years since the founding of the nation, the relationship between Star and Exster has never been good. Both the history of the empire and the competition in the Western Continent are enough reasons for our hostility—Coldburg was taken from Exster by us four hundred years ago."

"History first breeds hatred, and hatred then rewrites history."

Putila sighed:

"Only the continental wars could allow us to briefly forget our feelings for each other and fight side by side—during the Third Continental War, the hero Sara and the Oathkeeper King Midil were close friends. Together with the prophet Kepong of the Commas Alliance, they fought against the expeditionary force of the Eastern Continent. But unfortunately, they eventually broke off relations and lost one of the rare opportunities for the dragons and stars to reconcile."

“But this is a military camp. Other places will be much better. Many northerners don’t care about those trivial things,” Wyman nodded. “Civilians struggling to make a living and soldiers who have tasted blood are different after all.”

"They call us 'Imperials,' why?" Thales asked, frowning. "Wasn't the Ultimate Empire just over six hundred years ago? Even if there's real enmity, it has to be traced back to the ancient empire more than a thousand years ago, doesn't it?"

“This is their mockery of us.” Putila shook his head, his expression complicated. “The Star People have always been proud of their imperial bloodline and heritage, but unfortunately, the empire has not left a good impression on the world.”

"Not only the people of the North, but also the Kingdom of Allenbia in the Thornlands and the Duchy of Anrenzo in the Dragon's Kiss Basin, the people there have the same unfavorable opinion of us. Whenever there is a need—such as war—this ancient sentiment passed down from generation to generation is amplified and exaggerated, which is much more effective than increasing the soldiers' bounty."

empire.

Imperial people.

Thales sighed and tucked the information into his mind.

“Speaking of this, the mobilization of more than 10,000 people is almost the limit of Black Sand Territory.” Putila looked at the densely packed military camp in front of him: “I think Lumba’s supplies and expenses are also in a bind. Black Sand Territory is not a wealthy place.”

"For the sake of the North. They must have been planning this for a long time and at great expense."

The Starry Sky Clan finally followed Tuleha to a huge tent.

A tall nobleman in military attire, who had been waiting in front of the tent, stepped forward and nodded slightly to Tuleha.

The tall nobleman bowed to Thales and said, "Is this His Highness Thales? It's a pleasure to meet you. I am LS Kambida."

"A viscount of the Kingdom of Exter, whose fief is Manton, located in the Black Sand Territory."

“Please, members of the delegation, follow me to rest. As for Your Highness,” Viscount Cambida nodded and looked at Thales, “the Grand Justice awaits your visit.”

Thales raised an eyebrow.

“This is a private meeting,” Cambida said, his gaze fixed intently on Thales. “The Grand Duke of Black Sand and the Prince of the Stars.” “No need to worry,” Viscount Cambida raised his hand, stopping Putila and Wya from speaking, his tone resolute. “His Highness is already here, and he will be fine at least until he reaches Dragonsreach City to meet His Majesty.”

Thales sighed softly, a smile playing on his lips. "I guess we still don't have many choices, do we?"

“You know what, Your Highness, I’ve suddenly had a change of heart,” Putila said quietly, a glint in her eyes: “Lumba isn’t crazy.”

Thales' heart skipped a beat.

Cambida frowned and gestured for Thales to proceed.

----

The Grand Duke's tent was very tall and spacious, but not well-lit, with a thick carpet on the ground embroidered with a powerful iron fist pattern.

A rugged-looking man, about forty years old, with gray hair and blue eyes, a stubble-covered chin, and wearing finely chainmail, was eating a plate of roasted meat on the table. He was sitting at a thick square table laden with food.

A blazing iron brazier illuminated the man's face, making it appear even more mysterious.

Thales noticed that a sword with a polished leather scabbard was also lying across the table.

He gazed calmly at the de facto ruler of Black Sand Territory, Grand Duke Chaman Lumba.

As Rumba put a piece of roasted meat into her mouth, she stared intently at him, making Thales feel uneasy.

"You are more composed than I expected."

The Grand Duke spoke slowly.

Thales sighed.

“Perhaps,” he said, walking to the table and climbing into a chair. “But facing an enemy who owes me hundreds of lives, I can’t think of any other expression… even anger seems superfluous.”

Rumba picked up a wooden wine glass and gulped it down, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed.

The Grand Duke put down his wine cup, wiped the spilled wine with the back of his left hand, grabbed a piece of hind leg meat, and took a bite.

“According to the information that came from the stars… you certainly don’t seem like a seven-year-old child.”

“When life is tough, you have to learn to mature earlier,” Thales shrugged.

“Eat up, this is the finest venison,” Rumba pushed a plate of roasted meat toward him. “The prince of the stars cannot starve to death in my camp.”

Thales frowned as he looked at the plate of roughly roasted meat.

"You guys have guts; the counterattack really took me by surprise," Rumba said coldly.
"Who made this decision? Perhaps I should reward him properly for ruining my years of planning."

“You.” Thales pulled the plate in front of him, drew his dagger without looking up, and began to cut the meat.

Rumba raised an eyebrow.

“This is your decision, Your Excellency,” Thales said calmly as he cut the venison. “You killed half of our people on the very first day I set foot on the borders of Exter… forcing us to choose the path most detrimental to you.”

"How long have you been standing here watching the fortress across the way? Two weeks? Three weeks?"

“I suspect that maintaining supplies and lodging for over ten thousand people is not easy?” Thales shrugged. “I’m genuinely worried about the Black Sand Territory’s finances.”

He picked up a piece of venison about the size of his thumb and put it in his mouth.

tasty.

Rumba stopped eating and drinking, staring intently at Thales with a fierce look in his eyes.

“You know,” the Grand Duke said slowly, “I originally intended to spare your life, and killing only those around you would have been enough.”

Thales frowned.

His venison was not cut well.

“But we encountered a magic-powered gun squad… that level of attack,” Thales scoffed, starting to cut a piece of meat. “It was meant to kill me.”

“That was an accident,” Rumba said calmly.

“An accident…” Thales laughed in exasperation, putting down the dagger in his hand: “You took the magic gun…”

But he was immediately taken aback.

and many more.

Putile said that Lumba was not crazy.

so……

Thales stared blankly at Rumba.

Could it be that.

"Was that an accident?" Thales asked incredulously.

“It was an accident.” Rumba rested his arms on the table, his gaze intense.

Thales closed his eyes and exhaled deeply.

half an hour.

“You didn’t send out any magic-powered gun units,” Thales said, opening his eyes.

“I didn’t.” Rumba put down his glass and slowly shook his head.

“You didn’t intend to kill me either,” Thales continued.

“I didn’t.” Rumba’s eyes were burning.

Thales gritted his teeth.

“I see.” He exhaled and laughed. “There is someone else in command of the magic gun troops.”

Rumba had no reason to kill himself from beginning to end.

The magic-powered gun units are uncontrollable weapons of mass destruction... Even if he's stupid, he wouldn't use something like that against me.

Thales sighed.

Rumba slammed the wooden platter of venison over his shoulder, pulled it in front of him, and grabbed a piece of meat.

“You’re much smarter than I thought.” Rumba’s face darkened. He shoved a piece of meat into his mouth and narrowed his eyes. “Now you understand why we met here.”

“Yes, I understand.” Thales wiped the dagger with his sleeve, put it back in his waistband, and sighed, “I really didn’t expect that the famous Grand Duke of Black Sands’s magic gun troops would be so easily tricked into taking command.”

Rumba suppressed his anger: "The officer's name is Hardy. He has been in charge of training my magic gun unit for three years. The unit's commander fell ill in bed this morning, so he is only temporarily in charge."

"How is he?" Thales asked quietly.

“After the retreat was sounded, he still ordered a second firing, but soldiers immediately questioned his order,” Lumba said somberly. “Hardy then immediately slit his own throat without hesitation… We are still investigating who was behind him.”

"This also explains why you sounded the retreat bugle so hastily after just one shot." Thales sneered, "Even command can fail... Sorry, I really don't know what expression to wear at this moment."

Grand Duke Lombard pursed his lips tightly and remained silent.

"Their goal is probably to kill me through you, or to use my death to plot against you." Thales scoffed. "I think it's more likely the latter. My enemies are all in the country."

“The higher you stand,” Rumba murmured, “the more enemies you will have.”

"So, this sudden accident also made you abandon your plans," Thales chuckled. "Were you originally planning to humiliate me and see if the fortress would waver?"

silence.

Rumba opened the rye bottle next to him and filled his empty glass.

“I hate to say this, but King Kessel made a brilliant move by pushing you out,” Grand Duke Lombard said calmly. “Once you stepped into my camp, I would never be able to take the fortress and the North again.”

“And the oath he swore at the Palace of Restoration is like forging a suit of armor for you with the ownership of the throne,” Rumba said quietly, raising his glass. “If you die in Exter, no matter who does it, the neighboring Black Sand Territory will suffer.”

"So, once you realized you couldn't take Dragonbreaker Fortress, and discovered that someone was eyeing you covetously, you immediately changed your tune and tried to win me over, is that it?" Thales said coldly.

Rumba took a swig of wine expressionlessly and said, "Kaiser's oath has dispelled the desire of some to take your life, but it has also aroused the ambition of others to do so."

"Today's magic gun is just the beginning—we have a common enemy lurking in the shadows, whether it's for the throne of Exter or the throne of the stars," the Black Sand Duke's voice was steady and solemn: "From the moment you stepped into Exter, into the North, our interests have been intertwined."

“Yes,” Thales lowered his head, his voice steady and calm, “My death in Exter would not be a good thing for either of us.”

“I will assign two thousand men, led by Kambida—my most trusted vassal—to escort you to Dragonstreet,” Grand Duke Lomba’s expression softened slightly. “You will go directly to the Walton family’s territory—the king’s envoys are already waiting for you.”

“But my men died on the battlefield. They stood in front of me one by one, pierced by knives, swords, and spears,” Thales raised his head, his face grim. “We also killed quite a few of your men.”

Rumba closed his eyes and pondered for a moment.

Thales stared at him expressionlessly.

“Those warriors…whether they were my soldiers or your men, they did not die in vain. They died for a cause,” Rumba opened his eyes. “It is because of their sacrifice that we can understand each other and sit here, making difficult choices about the future of our two nations…even if those choices are incredibly difficult.”

“We were never enemies. Our hostility on the battlefield was only due to circumstances,” Rumba said softly. “For the future, and so that such pointless bloodshed will not happen again, we should let go of past grudges. That is only right.”

"War is ultimately for the sake of peace, isn't it?"

Thales suddenly laughed.

“Well said, Your Excellency.” He chuckled lightly, his expression unreadable. “There are no permanent enemies, only permanent interests.”

“As you said, from this moment on, we have no reason to be enemies.” The Grand Duke nodded and raised his wine cup. “You have eaten my venison, and according to the customs of the North, you are my guest.”

“This is a fine rye liquor,” Rumba pushed the glass forward, his gaze deep. “And according to the customs of the North, if we drink from the same cup, we are allies.”

“From manpower, intelligence, resources to financial support, I will provide you with everything you need in Exter. Our enemies will have no chance.” Grand Duke Lombard nodded: “Until you leave Exter and return to the stars.”

Even until one day you…

Rumba gave him a strange look: "Crowned as king."

silence.

Thales gave another enigmatic smile.

"You said the same thing to Duke Arend of the North, Your Highness," the prince exhaled softly, his smile unwavering, "for the throne of the stars and dragons?"

“He came to me,” Chaman Lumba said with a deep look in his eyes. “Val Arend, he is a visionary and responsible hero who dares to take a step that many people dare not even think of—even if it is a path that is not understood by many.”

“We—the Stars and the Dragons—have been enemies for far too long, and the blade and the shield should not be like this,” Rumba leaned back in his chair, the firelight illuminating his resolute and cold face. “Hero Nekaru I and ‘King of Restoration’ Tormund I were once friends, and hero Sara and ‘King of Oaths’ Midil IV were even brothers who had pledged their lives to each other—the Kingdom of Exter and the Kingdom of the Stars, working together, will surely end this meaningless war and conflict.”

Work together.

End the war and conflict?

The scene of the battlefield reappeared in Thales' mind.

Exter and the warriors of the stars charged at each other like wild beasts.

Arakka roared as he slaughtered layer after layer of enemies, leaving them groaning on the ground.

Countless soldiers of the Wrathful Guard charged towards both sides of Arakka without hesitation.

Many warriors fell helplessly to the ground, their bodies pierced by sharp blades.

And finally, as Alaraka dragged the bodies of his men away with the survivors, the Wrath of the Kingdom's hunched and lonely figure stood there.

"Do not."

Thales raised his head and said coldly.

The Grand Duke's expression changed; he raised an eyebrow and stared intently at Thales.

“Val Arend, he is not a hero, but a pathetic wretch living in his own imagination,” the second prince said expressionlessly. “War cannot bring peace, and death cannot repay life.”

"And the hatred and anger will not disappear just because the two kings are crowned."

The Grand Duke clasped his hands together, his expression unchanged: "What do you mean?"

“What I mean is,” Thales wiped the dagger clean with his sleeve, put it back in his waistband, and said nonchalantly, “what you’re saying is utter nonsense.”

Grand Duke Lombard's face darkened.

“Do you know that you are on a dangerous journey?” the Grand Duke said with a grim expression. “And what you are doing now is rejecting a powerful ally who could bring you enormous benefits, guarantee your safety, and even your throne.”

“My experience tells me to be wary of those who want to be your allies, no matter how sweet their words or how sincere their intentions may be,” Thales said, looking at Lumba and watching his expression slowly darken. “And I cannot trust you, Your Excellency Grand Duke Chaman Lumba.”

“Why?” Charman leaned forward, his face shifting between light and shadow in the flickering firelight: “Just because so many of your men died?”

"Not only that."

"And it's also because of your indifference and hypocritical coldness in the face of the deaths and sacrifices of your men," Thales said coldly. "Our alliance with you is destined to be betrayed. Compared to the potential benefits of upholding the alliance, I can say with certainty that the losses when the alliance breaks will far outweigh the gains I make."

"And I feel this deeply."

Rumba's gaze began to turn cold and terrifying.

“Besides, I hate what you said,” Thales said, shaking his head through gritted teeth as he recalled Arakka’s forlorn figure. “Those people on the battlefield… they died for your selfish desires.”

“And those nonsense things like ‘dying a worthy death’ and ‘war is for peace’,” Thales grabbed his glass and sneered, “you can keep them for yourself.”

silence.

“At first I thought you were mature and composed, with a mind beyond your years,” Rumba sneered, his tone unpleasant, “but now you’re behaving like a child.”

“That’s right,” Thales said coldly.

He splashed the wine from his glass and said to the gloomy-faced Grand Duke Rumba:
"Children should not drink alcohol."

Thales jumped off the chair and walked out of the tent without looking back.

My cold is a little better, so I typed some words.

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(End of this chapter)