Kingdom Bloodline

Chapter 111 Kaslan's Tavern
"The undulating land you see is the Sighing Hills, located on the western edge of the Sighing Mountains—look, those snow-capped peaks that reach into the clouds in the distance are the Sighing Mountains." Mount Putila, riding on horseback, pointed to the towering peaks in the distance and explained the geography of the North to Thales.

Thales raised his head, widened his field of vision, and exhaled a breath of warm air in the chilly environment.

"The Sighing Mountains were once the highest mountain range on the land during the ancient empire's era. They connect to the Quegur Glacier in the north, longitudinally separating the northern provinces of the empire from the eastern wilderness province. They gradually extend southwards to the northern side of the Green Heart Province, which is now the Starry East Sea Territory, the fiefdom of Duke Kuren. The Sighing Mountains are so treacherous and difficult to climb that travelers hesitate to even attempt them, and can only bow their heads and sigh, hence the name." Putila put down his pipe and also bowed his head and sighed softly, as if responding to his own words.

"When the ancient empire still existed, this place was a famous place of exile and chaos. After the empire fell, the turmoil intensified until a branch of elves migrated into the mountains and settled here for nearly three hundred years. They moved freely among the mountains and at their peak, they formed their own kingdom... After the final war, the northwest side of the Sighing Mountains belonged to the Western Continent, while the southeast Sighing Mountains were within the territory of the Hambul Dynasty in the Eastern Continent."

The elves of the Sighing Mountains? Wait, isn't that mentioned in the book "The End of the World: Cataclysm"?
Speaking of "elves," Thales couldn't help but glance at Ada behind him.

"What's wrong?" Ada noticed Thales's gaze and spread her hands in annoyance. "I don't know which generation of my relatives they are, and I'm not good at history!"

Thales shook his head and turned back to continue listening to Puttier's explanation.

We can't count on this elf who can't even remember his own name.

Even if it's an extreme situation.

"...The treacherous Northwest Sighing Mountains stretch across the eastern part of the kingdoms of Exter and Star Kingdom. The Reconstruction Tower of Grand Duke Trudida and the Lonely Tower of the Forrest family of the Star Kingdom are located on two separate peaks, facing each other across a valley. Both sides are extremely wary of each other, yet both are easy to defend and difficult to attack."

"The mountain range extends further north and south, encompassing the fiefdoms of the Grand Duke of Exter Deer City and the Guardian Duke of Star Cliff Territory, respectively. However, due to the treacherousness of the Sighing Mountains, coupled with the northern temperatures, both Exter Deer City and Star Cliff Territory, situated within them, face the predicament of having territories bordering the End Sea, yet lacking ports, and the few ports they do have are situated on the sea cliffs..."

Putila took a puff of his pipe, gazing at the distant mountains with a mesmerizing expression.

"Therefore, in the First and Second Continental Wars, the allied forces that crossed the End Sea and invaded from the Eastern Continent landed in the East Sea Territory or the South Coast Territory of Starry Sky. This was because both the Cliff Territory of Starry Sky and the East Coast Port of the Kingdom of Exter possessed natural sea cliffs that were steep, high, easy to defend, and difficult to attack, provided by the Sighing Mountains... Until the Third Continental War, the Eastern Army feigned an attack on the East Sea Port of Starry Sky, but then launched a surprise attack on the coastline of Exter. With a small force, they attacked the sea cliffs and achieved remarkable results, eventually breaking through Deer City and penetrating deep into the heart of Exter..."

Continental War?

Another question popped into Thales' mind.

"The war began with a conflict between two continents—like the end of whale pods in the sea. After the war of annihilation, we discovered that the immortal oil inside them was the best fuel, even better than charcoal," Putila explained to him.

"Fishing qualifications, quotas, areas, and closed seasons have always been the focus of disputes between the two countries on both sides of the strait... These were major issues in the four continental wars. Of course, after the Third Continental War, the political situation on both sides of the strait changed too much. We became completely hostile to Exeter, while Su Ye was embroiled in a struggle for hegemony in the East with Hamburg. Finally, under the new policies of the wise King Mindis III, we allied with Su Ye, while Exeter became closer to Hamburg..."

"This turned the Fourth Continental War, which began in 468 of the Ending Calendar, into a true world war. The flames of war were no longer confined to one side's entangled forces, crossing the sea to invade another side, but spread to every corner of the world."

Thales recalled the smiling, staff-wielding middle-aged king of the Star Kings in the Hall of Mindis, his portrait engraved on the silver coin, and the burn scar on his own chest. Then he thought of Corleone's vampire sisters and the so-called "Starry Night Alliance."

Thales shook his head, banishing those thoughts from his mind.

"Don't you approve of Mindis's foreign policy?" the prince asked curiously.

“Not so,” Putila shook his head. “The alliance with Suye is the inevitable trend—as the ancient proverb in the Far East says, make friends with distant allies and attack nearby enemies.”

"Although the Fourth Continental War was massive in scale and costly," Putila said slowly, deep in thought, "in my view, the new political situation has also strengthened the connection and ties between the two continents. The conditions for a world war have been eliminated by the increasingly complex interconnected situation, such as our conflict with Exter in the West—from the Fourth Continental War to now, we have not had a major transcontinental war for two centuries and have enjoyed more than two hundred years of peace... In almost every previous century, we had a continental war after the contradictions between the two continents had accumulated to the extreme."

Thales frowned—he always felt that something was off about the so-called continental war, given the country's productivity and political system.

A transoceanic expedition to the mainland... how much mobilization and logistical support would that require? Can the price paid by the nations really be compensated by that little bit of eternal oil?
They advanced amidst the gazes of soldiers on both sides of the road, and soon a village came into view.

Thales looked up and saw that the trees outside the village were tied with ropes, many of which were tied with food, such as dried meat, bread, and even prey such as deer, foxes, and snow hares.

Is this a custom in the North?

“My soldiers have confirmed the safety of this village,” said Viscount Cambida, a vassal of the Duke of Lombard, as he followed from behind. He rode past the crowd, entered the village, dismounted, and handed the reins to a soldier. “We will dismiss some of the conscripts from our hometown in the vicinity. You can rest and have lunch at one of the taverns inside.”

With Rolf's help, Thales dismounted, relieved to be free from the horse for the time being, and then looked up with great interest at the village beside the Lyman Pass.

This should have been a quiet little village without even a wall, but now it was filled with burly, fully armed men. Although most of the escorting troops were stationed and resting outside the village, Thales could still see the northern soldiers coming and going busily under the eaves of the brick, wood, and stone houses.

Strangely, the soldiers did not seem to disturb the tranquility of the village. They mingled with the men and women of the village, who were dressed in coarse linen coats. The village square, in particular, was already full of soldiers and villagers, with wine glasses clinking and laughter filling the air.

"This time I'm going to take you down, Cronton!" Two people sat at what appeared to be a large wooden table used for selling goods. A man who looked like a villager slammed his fist on the table, which was covered with wine glasses, and shouted at a soldier opposite him who was not to be outdone, "I can drink ten glasses in a minute!"

“We’ll find out soon enough whether you’re bragging or not,” the soldier said, dropping his axe, removing his breastplate, and slamming his fist on the table in equal frustration. “The winner gets Arosa’s wreath!”

The onlookers, who had formed a circle, cheered enthusiastically, while a young woman carrying a flower basket laughed heartily.

"What utter nonsense!" She put down the flower basket, boldly lifted her skirt, sat down, and joined the drinking party at the round table: "Only those who can outdrink me can receive my wreath!"

Thales chuckled softly. For a moment, he even forgot that it was these very Exter soldiers who had fought and killed his guards on the battlefield.

Unlike the orderly, mercenary, and class-divided society that Thales encountered in Everstar City, the pace of this rural village of Exter was wild and light, the atmosphere warm and relaxed, and the villagers were mostly tall and strong Northlanders with rugged appearances and hearty smiles.

"Hey, Tuleha, how long are we going to stay here?" A bearded soldier who looked like a mid-level officer shouted at them, carrying a warhammer in one hand and a wooden goblet in the other. "Please, tell me we can stay overnight!"

“We’re leaving this afternoon,” Tuleha retorted loudly, dissatisfied. “Until then, tighten your trousers, Ironhead Kok!”

"What a pity," the bearded officer muttered, taking a swig of wine that dripped down his beard with disappointment. "I remember there was a beautiful cook at the Hero's Tavern..."

Thales paid no heed to the pointing fingers and disdainful, malicious glances from the soldiers and villagers along the roadside. He followed Kanbida and Tuleha forward, with the rest of the delegation following behind.

"Your way of ensuring safety is to send soldiers into villages and drink with the villagers?" Looking at the northern soldiers walking by, arm in arm with the villagers and laughing heartily, the prince's young attendant, Wyah Caso, cautiously gripped the sword at his waist, somewhat disapproving: "If I were an assassin, I would blend in with these villagers."

“Don’t be too nervous, this isn’t Star City, it’s Exter!” Viscount Cambida laughed heartily. “This village is almost entirely populated by retired veterans, and they can be trusted… In fact, out of honor and dignity, the prince, as a guest, would be even safer among them.”

Wyatt shrugged and grimaced in disbelief.

“Don’t worry,” Thales nodded to his squire. “The soldiers have scattered and infiltrated the villages. Even assassins should consider the possibility and consequences of a sudden attack.”

“This is the pass village, isn’t it?” Putila looked around nostalgically. “I remember there was a tavern here, and the owner was very famous…”

“Hero’s Tavern, a tavern opened twenty years ago by a retired veteran,” Tuleha said casually, “and its rye liquor is famous far and wide.”

Thiels, curiously observing his surroundings, followed Kanbida and Tuleha towards a large stone house. A huge wine glass sign hung above the door. The Fire Knight pushed open the two doors and entered the bustling Hero's Tavern.

Thales stepped into the warm stone house, leaving the chill behind. The tavern, which had been full of customers, suddenly fell silent. Many people turned their attention to them. Thales recognized that many of the customers were soldiers from the North, who had obviously just arrived.

But a few seconds later, the tavern returned to its lively atmosphere, as if only a few ordinary people had come in.

“You didn’t empty the tavern,” Wyman said, frowning. “Then what about His Highness…”

A rough, aged voice exploded out:
"Young man, this is my tavern," said a burly, silver-haired old man with a furrowed brow, his elbows resting on the wooden bar, a disdainful expression on his face.
"Whether it's a king, a priest, a foreigner, or even a god, no one can drive my guest away here!"

Wyman frowned.

The old man then squinted and looked down at Thales with a strange expression: "You have too many people... I only serve guests who pay for their drinks."

Thales smiled at him.

The prince couldn't help but notice that although the weathered old man in front of him was quite old, at least over sixty, his arm muscles were still well-developed, his waist was thick and upright, and his eyes were direct and fierce.

“Kaslan! Don’t worry about the number of people or the cost of drinks!” Kambida laughed heartily, sat down at the bar without ceremony, and pulled out a money pouch. “We have plenty of little gold discs with Nekaru’s image on them… By the way, the Grand Duke of Black Sands asked me to give you his regards, and also to Lady Talia!”

The old man gave him a deep look.

Thales' eyes flickered: A retired veteran, an ordinary tavern owner, could he possibly get the Black Sands Grand Duke's personal attention?
But Cambida clearly did not receive the response he deserved.

“Six Exter coppers per cup of rye, sixty for nobles,” the tavern owner, old man Caslan, glanced indifferently at the money pouch, then pushed it back and snorted, “Also, I don’t accept gold coins.”

“Especially the gold coin from that patricide Rumba.”

Kambida's face froze instantly.

Thales was also shocked: patricide?

Kambida shrugged at Tuleha behind him, a helpless expression on his face.

“That was a duel of succession according to ancient rites,” Tuleha stepped forward, calmly pulling out a bag full of Exter copper and silver coins, and said indifferently, “The Grand Duke defeated his elder brother, that’s all… the casualties were just accidents.”

"Let him try to justify it, patricide is patricide!" Old man Kaslan disdainfully accepted the money bag. "As for the so-called ancient dueling ritual... that's something the Empire used to make us kill each other."

The Grand Duke of Black Sands killed his brother and seized the right of succession, seemingly following some kind of dueling ritual from an ancient empire.

Thales silently kept this information to himself.

And... Thales looked at the burly old man in front of him: This tavern owner's identity is not simple, and he doesn't seem to be on the same side as Rumba.

Perhaps we can gather some intelligence from here?
“So it’s one, two, three… six, seven, eight…” Kaslan weighed the money bag in his hand and counted the number of people in front of him.

"Wait!" Thales, quick-witted, spoke up at the opportune moment: "The Black Sand Duke's money belongs to them, but we'll have to pay for our own... We have, uh, about a dozen people..."

Kaslan's eyes darted around, and he noticed Thales, who couldn't even reach the bar.

Kambida frowned and looked at Thales thoughtfully.

Thales nodded to Putilay, who raised an eyebrow, then stepped forward and pulled out a few silver coins and copper coins.

“Ah, I recognize this portrait… Midil the Oathkeeper, is it?” Kaslan took the silver coin, then casually tossed it aside. Instead, he picked up the bronze coin engraved with Midil’s portrait, carefully examining the design. He then looked up, grinned, and revealed a mouthful of yellow teeth: “You’re from the Empire?”

“No,” Thales shook his head with a smile, “we come from the stars.”

Wyah's expression changed, while Putila seemed to be deep in thought.

“I know, kid, you’re the prince of that star… here to apologize.” Kaslan stared straight at him: “It’s quite a long journey.”

Thales shrugged.

“Alright,” Kaslan chuckled, “Starry Sky’s silver coins are worth more than ours, there’s no reason to turn down money.”

"Hey!" Kambida protested, "Aren't Grand Duke Lombard's gold coins money too?"

"Hey, Brein!" The owner of the Hero's Tavern ignored the Viscount and raised his voice, knocking on the wooden window behind him: "Twenty cups of ale... plain will do!"

A tall, dark-haired man in his thirties with a burn scar on his left cheek emerged from behind the bar and snorted coldly.

The tavern waiter, looking annoyed, picked up a thin wooden stick, turned to the cabinet behind him, and with a flick of his arm, skillfully strung together the handles of a dozen or so wooden wine glasses, pulling them up like a skewer.

With another flick of his arm, a dozen glasses slammed onto the bar. Breen deftly pulled out a wooden stick, then hoisted a large wooden barrel and began pouring wine into the row of glasses, all the while giving everyone a disapproving look, glaring fiercely at Thales in the middle.

“This isn’t something that can be done with arm strength,” Wyman said, watching the man’s movements. “I bet he’s a master swordsman.”

“Don’t be offended,” Kaslan laughed, “My guys here are all roughnecks who’ve served in the military…”

“Of course, Hero's Tavern,” Tuleha said casually, “a gathering place for retired soldiers from the North.”

Thales was saddened to discover that he couldn't even reach the chair at the bar, and it would be too embarrassing to speak up in front of everyone.

At this time, having a guard who can use sign language is especially important.

Rolf lifted Thales onto a high stool at the bar (Wyatt, who had just discovered he was unemployed again, frowned again), and Cambida and Putila sat down on either side of him. The men from Star and Exter split into two distinct groups and sat at two separate round tables, the soldiers glaring at each other menacingly.

“My God,” Willow said, looking at the boisterous northern drinkers around him, “I’ve never been this far from home to drink before.”

“Hold your pistols tight,” veteran Jenard said, frowning. “They might pounce on us at any moment.”

“Mr. Kaslan,” Thales smiled, displaying his old-fashioned conversational skills, “when did you open the Hero's Tavern? And why is it called that?”

“It’s been about twenty years,” Kaslan said lazily as he watched Brein fill his glass, then take three of them to the bar and let Brein carry the rest out himself. “After I was injured and retired, I went back to my hometown and opened a tavern… As for why it’s called Hero’s Tavern, well, that’s a silly name my wife came up with.”

“By the way,” Thales touched the wooden goblet that was half his head tall, rationally deciding not to touch it, “when I entered the village, I found all sorts of food tied to the trees at the entrance. What was that all about?”

“The bitter cold is coming,” Kaslan yawned, bringing out several plates of black bread that didn’t look very appetizing. “It’s a gift from the mountains.”

Tuleha and Kanbida, as if used to it, grabbed some black bread and ate it with their ale. Kanbida even looked on with amusement as he watched Wya, who looked distressed and unsure how to eat. "You'd better eat more," Kanbida said casually. "We still have to travel this afternoon... and we won't set up camp until tonight."

The pampered Star People... Kambida chuckled to himself: This is the signature dish of the Hero's Tavern, the ordinary coarse grain of the Northern Villagers.

Wyman frowned as he looked at the black bread in front of him.

Putila sighed and grabbed a loaf of bread—it seemed this would be his lunch.

It was probably a deliberate act by Kambida, either to test the prince's attitude or to retaliate against his coldness.

But then, to everyone's astonishment, the esteemed Second Prince of the Stars, Prince Thales Starlight, grabbed a thick, hard piece of black bread with both hands...

Then he took a bite without a care in the world.

That expression suggested that he wasn't eating the unpalatable black bread, but rather...
"A gift from the mountains?" Thales chewed on his hard bread, asking curiously and vaguely, "The bitter cold of the Abyss?"

Hmm, the taste is actually pretty good. You can bite into it just by grinding your teeth... unlike the black bread in the fraternity, which you have to toast over a fire when things get really bad.

Kaslan's expression shifted, and his gaze toward Thales became increasingly intriguing.

“The extreme cold is a unique weather phenomenon in the North. At that time, the North will experience the coldest time of the year, and the daylight hours will be drastically shortened. People going out must wear very thick fur coats and carry enough fire and supplies. They also cannot go too far. The time for outdoor activities each day will be reduced to less than three hours.” Putila looked at Thales, who was eating with great relish, with a strange expression.

I developed a strong jaw and a good appetite from years of traveling... but His Highness the Prince...

Wyatt took a bite of bread with a bitter face, feeling like vomiting, but seeing Rolf next to him enjoying it so much, his appetite and fighting spirit were rekindled.

"The extreme cold lasts for weeks, sometimes up to a month," Putila continued, "As for the gifts of the mountains..."

“That is a gift to the gods,” the tavern owner, old man Kaslan, chuckled and continued, “The first prey hunted today, the first food touched, is hung on the treetop and belongs to the gods… Only travelers who have to go out in the bitter cold can take it; it is a blessing from the gods.”

“Gods…” Thales swallowed his bread. “Which god is it, the setting sun, the bright moon, or the dark night?”

In his memory, the most famous deities in Yongxing City, who also had their own temples, seemed to be these three.

But Kaslan chuckled: "None of those. What we commemorate are the ancient gods of the North and even the world, the generous gods who watch over the land and mountains and protect travelers in the wilderness."

"People call it..."

"Lord of the Mountains".

----

Star Kingdom, Yongxing City West Ring District, entrance to the West City Guard Hall.

“I’m sorry, Captain Cohen Karabyan has taken a month-long leave,” Miss Jorah, the secretary of the West City Police Department, said coldly, looking at the young, short-haired brown girl in front of her. “I mean, at least a month.”

He's taller than me.

Her legs are longer than mine.

Her butt is perkier than mine.

Miss Jorah thought resentfully.

Luckily, my breasts are bigger than hers.

Then, Miss Jorah straightened her proud figure, smoothed her long red hair, and said proudly, "If you want to find him, you can leave a message... I see him often and can pass it on to him for you."

and.

She's not as feminine as me.

He looks like a boy.

Miss Jorah gave the brown-haired woman in front of her annoyed look.

The other person slowly frowned and said, "Really? He's not here..."

Yeah, she speaks in a gruff voice... not at all like a woman.

Miss Jorah thought to herself, and immediately felt much better.

Yes, that's a hoarse voice... She absolutely refuses to admit that it's "heroic".

The woman with short brown hair remained silent for a moment, quietly watching Miss Jorah.

Miss Jorah felt somewhat embarrassed.

The brown-haired girl then lowered her head, looking at the emblem of the twin towers and longswords on her right hand, and a smile appeared on her lips.

“Alright then, please leave him a message,” the brown-haired girl said with a playful smile, observing Miss Jora’s expression. “Just say…”

Under the secretary's impatient gaze, the brown-haired girl licked her lips.

"The woman who lay in his arms on that day in Hongfang Street missed him."

Miss Jorah's face changed drastically, as if struck by lightning.

Red Town Street...

Lying down...

In his arms...

woman……

Miss him...

Miss Jorah stared wide-eyed in disbelief, her brows furrowed, her expression uncertain as she looked at the woman before her.

how come.

This woman?

With the handsome Captain Cohen...

Actually...

Yara Sarityton chuckled.

"Hahaha……"

“Okay, I was just kidding,” the descendant of the assassin flower said with a smile, rubbing her stomach as she waved her hand under the secretary’s murderous glare. “I’ve only met that blond, green… vigilante once.”

I just happened to save his life.

“You like him, have a crush on him, love him to death, want to have his baby,” Yara shook her head under the secretary’s strange gaze again: “I don’t care… I’m not your rival or love rival, I just asked him for a favor.”

"Don't worry... he's not my type." The former bartender smiled brightly.

The secretary blushed, a rare occurrence for her.

Looking into Yara's sincere eyes, she was momentarily at a loss for words.

The silence lasted for more than ten seconds.

Miss Jorah finally let out a sigh of relief.

“Alright,” Miss Jorah turned her head away shyly, her blush still lingering, and said helplessly, “Actually, Captain Cohen… he’s gone back to the Tower of the End, and we can contact him here using the raven. You can write him a letter, and then…”

Yara smiled.

“Okay, I’ll write to him,” the young former bartender nodded, thinking for a moment. “Thank you, Miss Jorah.”

“Actually, if it’s not too troublesome,” the secretary said somewhat awkwardly, “maybe I can help you. After all, you’re Cohen’s friend…”

"...Although I am just a secretary to a department head, I know many people... For example, my brother serves the royal family, and he has access to many important figures..."

That way you won't need to go looking for Captain Cohen.

Miss Jorah silently clenched her fist in her heart: You think saying you don't like him is enough?
Are you kidding...

Don't underestimate a woman's persistence, whether it's her own or that of her rival!
Yara looked at Jora in surprise, then broke into a smile.

“You can’t help with this,” Yara shook her head helplessly, “You’re too…”

Yara suddenly stopped talking; she remembered something.

Miss Jorah looked on with anticipation.

“Perhaps you really can help me,” she said slowly. “Jora, you’re the secretary of the Security Bureau. You can see everything, from cases and wanted posters to intelligence. Could you keep an eye out for some information for me?”

Miss Jorah smiled and nodded. "Of course, if it's not confidential... what would you like to know?"

Yara exhaled and whispered, "I want to investigate the locations of large-scale arms smuggling cases from Starship to overseas over the past few years... especially those related to the Black Street Brotherhood... There's a guy named Rhoda..."

Miss Jorah took out paper and pen.

“And,” Yara hesitated, but finally said, “I also need to find three children… Their features are quite obvious; they were likely kidnapped by the Brotherhood, but they’re not in Everstar City…”

Miss Jorah looked up in surprise.

"A ten-year-old boy named Sinti, who is a bit taller than the average child."

"A little girl with a round burn scar on her face, named Coria, about four or five years old."

“A seven or eight-year-old boy named Ryan has no right hand.”

"That's all?" Miss Jorah nodded. "I'll go back and check the recent announcements about the fight against human trafficking..."

“Wait,” Yara looked up and said seriously, “I’m also looking for a little boy.”

"He disappeared near Red Street, and it's very likely he's in the hands of the Blood Bottle Gang."

"Black hair, gray eyes, looks about seven or eight years old."

“He is a…” Yara’s eyes dimmed:
"A child who doesn't seem like a normal child..."

Miss Jorah looked up in surprise.

“He’s a bit too smart, too mature,” Yara continued, her eyes lowered.

"Is that so? A precocious child," the secretary shrugged, then lowered her head to continue taking notes.

“My brother said he had seen two similar children—a boy and a girl.”

"Okay, anyway, I'll keep an eye out for you."

P.S. If any readers have questions about geography, I've posted a (approximate) map of the western landmass on my Weibo. Just search for my pen name.

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(End of this chapter)