Kingdom Bloodline

Chapter 117 The Meteor

ear.

Endless clamor, a cacophony of noise, and unintelligible roars and shouts erupting from the crowd.

in front of you.

The adult smiled warmly, grasped his shoulders, leaned against him with trembling hands, and whispered gently in his ear:
"Well done, don't worry."

here you go……

don’t worry……

In the deep darkness, he was suddenly awakened from a nightmare.

The wounds on my body seemed to come alive instantly, bursting forth with unbearable pain.

He contorted his face, forcing a cry of pain down his throat, and first focused his attention on perceiving everything around him.

The wind and snow howled in my ears, a stench assaulted my nose and mouth, and a few steps away I heard the low growls of livestock.

He struggled to raise his trembling left hand, and unsurprisingly touched a rough, old wall made of rough bricks.

The power of termination surged forth.

In the pitch-black darkness, the surrounding environment gradually came into his perception.

This was the place he fled to after sending a message to the Brotherhood's spies, dragging his badly wounded body—an ordinary livestock pen in the northern countryside, with a simple but sturdy thatched roof, one side of the wall was a rough handmade fence, and the ground was muddy with a mixture of water, snow, urine, mud and his own blood.

Safety.

The Blood Mage is not nearby.

Only then did he let out a low, painful groan.

Two puncture wounds, six lacerations, two bone fractures, and countless abrasions, contusions, and muscle strains.

She's clearly a pretty girl with a lovely smile—he thought of the Blood Mage and gave a wry smile—why is she so short-tempered?

It's just that they want to use legendary anti-magic weapons to poke a hole in your real body.

Thinking of this, he touched the two weapons beside him.

"Lancer," he sighed in agony, "you've screwed me over again."

Not far away, a group of two large and six small hairy pigs huddled together uneasily, trying to keep warm from the new uninvited guest. A black dog stood outside the fence, bravely guarding the perimeter of its territory, giving him a low warning growl.

As the snowfall outside subsided, his senses extended beyond the immediate area, reaching another thatched-roof wooden hut. Inside, four people were breathing soundly in their sleep; two were relatively calm, while the other two were young and restless. Next door was a stable, where two slightly different, robust breaths could be heard—likely from two strong horses typical of the North.

He smiled in the darkness, recalling the days when he traveled to different countries and stayed overnight in their homes.

Clearly, this was an ordinary family of four from the north. One of the two horses was probably a draft horse, and the other was a riding horse used for both service and hunting, likely rented from the lord. Judging from the terrible surroundings, the pigs probably weren't theirs either, but rather specially kept for the lord's dinner table—who knows how those obviously poorly raised pigs could survive in this weather? After all, this place didn't have the drastically different and meticulous animal husbandry methods of the south.

I remember a long time ago, she—that dirty girl—also told herself that she wanted to come and see the North.

Look at how people in the north survive in such cold weather.

"I wonder if they raise piglets?" she asked, blinking her curious eyes at me.

But at that time, he was only focused on wiping the weapon off his leg.

Do people in the north raise pigs? Now we have the answer.

I need to write this down... so I can tell her about it later.

Just now...

The next moment, the man's smile vanished.

Lying on the ground, he clenched his teeth tightly. The power of termination surged forth, seeping from every pore, prompting the wounds all over his body to further close, repair, and heal.

However, this process is filled with even more terrifying waves of intense pain and even more unbearable itching.

Just like his countless struggles in the past.

But the man, trembling and sweating, merely managed a bitter smile with a slight curve to his lips.

Okay.

At least, he no longer had to endure Ramon's incessant chatter and sarcastic remarks during his treatment... That big-nosed doctor's boring nagging was as lethal as a magic user's.

The power of termination surged like waves onto all his wounds, forcing his nerves, his muscles, and his bones to accelerate their recovery, self-healing, and reorganization.

The overwhelming pain and shock made him tremble and squeeze his eyes shut, his upper and lower eyelids almost merging into one, and cold sweat kept pouring down his forehead.

After a long while, he finally stopped trembling and collapsed to the ground.

He gritted his teeth and let out a sigh of relief.

How long has it been since I've been injured this badly?

He struggled to turn over, wiping his mouth and nose across the filthy ground.

Filthy and disgusting...

In the darkness, he chuckled softly.

I am filthy and disgusting...

Now I no longer have the right to glare at her.

That dirty girl.

The man pressed his hand against the dirty ground, weakly got up, and checked his physical condition.

They need some food to supplement their diet, preferably meat.

He looked in the direction of the pigs.

The family of the thick-haired pigs sensed the man's murderous intent through their animal instincts, and they all trembled and whimpered softly.

At the same time, the four breaths of the northerners, who were fast asleep, once again echoed in the man's ears.

These pigs are probably one of their few sources of livelihood.

He sighed.

The man gave the shivering, thick-haired pig family a smile that they could neither see nor understand.

Then, he grabbed the two weapons at hand and climbed out of the livestock pen.

He remembered that the bitter cold was fast approaching.

Fortunately, this is the North.

Thanks be to the Lord of the Mountains.

Thank you for your gift.

I will remember your generosity.

----

"Gunslingers! Form the first line of defense on the gentle slope ahead! Slow them down no matter what!" Kambida ordered resolutely, his face grim as he looked at the approaching cavalry.

At his command, the Exter infantry of Black Sand Territory unhesitatingly shouldered the large iron shields unique to the North and jogged to the front of the camp to form a defensive line.

"Heavy infantry, one minute! Get ready and get to the defensive line! Heavy swordsmen in front, aim at the horses' legs; heavy armor axemen behind. Anyone who falls off their horse, whether they can move or not, smash them with an axe!"

"Phil!" Cambida shouted to the archers on the flank of the camp, "Get your men ready! The enemy appeared too suddenly; there's no time for aiming!"

As soon as he finished speaking, a short Exter soldier suddenly shouted at the top of his lungs, ordering the archers standing in two rows on the side of the camp: "Nock your arrows, draw your bows, prepare for a volley!"

"Mount your cavalry and look for an opportunity to attack from the flanks!"

"Fire the signal arrow!"

"Send light cavalry to the rear encampment to quickly reinforce the rearguard!"

In contrast, the Star People's group, heavily surrounded by the Black Sand Territory's army, appeared much quieter.

The weather was bad, the wind was strong, and it was difficult to control.

This is Rolf's sign language, and unsurprisingly, it elicited another frown from Wyatt.

"I knew it, another war is coming..." Ramon gritted his teeth, muttering incessantly in my ear, "Following you will never bring any good... You're a prince, and a piece of cheese that attracts flies, while I'm just an ordinary doctor..."

He retreated as far back as possible, away from Thales, but without leaving the protection of the main force.

The cunning doctor—Wyatt Cassel, who was watching him coldly, gripped the hilt of his sword tightly and snorted in dissatisfaction.

Thales ignored the doctor, his face stiff as he watched the cavalry closing in on him.

It wasn't that he was too indifferent to threats, but rather that since leaving Yongxing City and heading north, he had experienced too many inexplicable threats, so much so that when faced with a similar situation again, his first reaction was no longer surprise and tension, but rather a long sigh:

What is it this time?
Why can't we just let him arrive at Dragon Sky City safely?
But—Tales forced himself to think logically—why would the Black Sand Territory's army of over two thousand men, who had been on guard and traveling cautiously, be completely unaware of these uninvited guests?

Putila said that the people coming from the other side were all elites, but the escorts around him were also elite soldiers from the Black Sand Territory, so there was no need to worry too much... right?

Until a familiar voice came from afar from the group of lightly armored cavalrymen dressed in gray and masked.

"Soldiers, lower your guard!"

It is Tuleha.

Thales breathed a sigh of relief.

Lord Tuleha, one of the five generals of Exter and a Fire Knight of Black Sand Territory who had set out to scout, emerged from the opposing cavalry and stopped by the outermost campfire: "These are His Majesty Nunn's personal guards, the troops he sent to welcome the Star Prince's delegation!"

“Old friend, it’s not that I don’t trust you, but these days, it’s always better to be cautious,” Viscount Cambida drew his sword and, escorted by a squad of soldiers, walked to the front of the camp: “Do you have any of the king’s men to vouch for you?”

Kambida kept the unspoken words to himself.

Even among the Black Sand Duke's subordinates, there might be traitors, right?

The gray-clad cavalrymen reined in their horses and stopped in front of the camp.

Thales couldn't help but notice that their mounts remained quiet and composed in the face of the cavalry's rude halt, barely neighing. The cavalrymen stood in a straight line, an arrow's throw from the camp, demonstrating superior mobility and discipline.

Elite, is that so?

A brown-haired, masked man in a white cloak rode out of the cavalry, with Tuleha following behind, as they rode into the Black Sand Territory's camp.

“Yes, I saw these people when I was young,” Putilai said, taking a deep breath as he recognized the elite cavalrymen beside Thales. “Judging from their attire, they are indeed the King’s personal guards of Exeter.”

Thales rolled his eyes and breathed a sigh of relief.

Thankfully, they shouldn't be enemies... not for now.

Beside him, Wyatt, an attendant from the Tower of Ends, was visibly taken aback.

"You mean, the White Blade Guard?" Wyatt whispered.

"An elite force comparable to the Starry Sky Royal Guard, known as the Dragon Guard... the White Blade Guard?"

Putila nodded: "Do you remember that tavern owner named Kaslan from a few days ago?"

"He was once the commander of the White Blade Guard."

Thales looked up in surprise at Putila.

The latter shook his head: "Why do you think his tavern attracts so many retired soldiers?"

White Blade Guard.

The King's personal guard, the Dragon's bodyguard.

The old man Kaslan's former subordinates.

Thales kept this information to himself and carefully observed how things were developing.

The masked man rode up to Kanbida, first glancing at the Black Sands Grand Duke's most trusted advisor, then sharply looking in the direction of the Starry Sky group. His gaze lingered on their cross-shaped double-star banner for a moment before turning away.

"As the captain of His Majesty Nunn's personal guard—shouldn't I be considered one of the king's men?"

The man, whose face was covered by a cloak, pulled down his mask to reveal a pale but sharply defined face.

A weapon of unknown shape was stuck in his back, its white handle protruding beyond his equally white cloak. "Nikolai...it's you." Kambida recognized the other's face, and his expression turned grim.

The pale-faced, cloaked man snorted coldly. He dismounted nimbly in front of Kanbida and casually tossed a scroll with sealing wax onto Kanbida's chest: "I've brought the White Blade Guard to welcome Prince Star... If there are any problems, consult the King's warrant."

Kambida frowned and tore open the wax seal.

"I encountered them during my reconnaissance—the White Blade Guard," Lord Tuleha, the fiery knight behind the cloaked man, dismounted and said with a tense expression, "It seems His Majesty Nunn... truly values ​​this Star Mission."

After reading the warrant, Kanbida sighed, sheathed his sword, and simultaneously gave orders to the Black Sand Territory's army:

"Alert lifted!"

"Let them in!"

The masked cavalrymen in grey cloaks—the White Blade Guards—rode into their encampment as if no one else was there. Although their faces were hidden behind veils, their eyes were sharp and fierce as they stared intently at everyone in the encampment, whether they were the Exter people of Black Sand Territory or the Star People in the center of the camp.

“Mobilize an army of nearly two thousand men to protect this prince,” the man in the white cloak said as he walked toward the Starry Sky Mission. He glanced at the surrounding camp and sneered, “Lumba is truly a generous duke.”

Hearing the sarcasm in his tone, both Kambida and Tuleha frowned.

“This is for the Prince’s safety, at least until he can safely see His Majesty Nunn,” Cambida replied calmly. “We believe… there are people in Exter who want the Prince dead.”

"According to the information we received, your Black Sand Territory surrounded and intercepted him in front of the fortress, and even fired magic guns at him..." The man tightened his cloak: "That's right, it seems you really want him dead."

Kambida was speechless for a moment.

“We’ll take over here,” the white-cloaked man said bluntly. “As for your mission in Black Sand Territory, it’s over… Go back to where you belong—it’s not a good idea to take a few thousand men into another lord’s land, especially with the Frostbite of the Desolate Sun fast approaching.”

"Rumba's ambitions end here... His Majesty will hold him accountable."

"The Grand Duke's orders to us," Tuleha replied coldly, "are to protect the prince all the way to Dragon City... Even if he voluntarily goes with you, we must follow him to Dragon City."

"Do as you please, follow if you want. The movement and supply of two thousand people—it's not my money that's being wasted." The man tapped the white handle behind him and said nonchalantly, "Next time, Tuleha, let's have another go."

Tuleha snorted in dissatisfaction and unconsciously reached for the saber at his waist.

The man in the white cloak chuckled and continued walking towards Thales.

"By order of His Majesty Nunn Walton, the great co-ruler of the Kingdom of Exter, the successor of the hero Nekaru," surrounded by his subordinates, the man in the white cloak ignored the others and walked straight to Thales' side, looking down at the only seven-year-old boy in the camp, his pale face devoid of any smile:

"You are Thales Star?"

Putila's expression changed.

He sensed the hostility in the other person's tone.

Thales also noticed the coldness in the other person's eyes.

He slowly frowned.

Something's not right.

But Thales simply took a deep breath and gave a formulaic smile.

Putila, standing beside him, frowned. He glanced at Kambida and Tuleha, who stood silently with unpleasant expressions, cleared his throat, and addressed the group of menacing guards with white blades: "This is Thales Star, the second prince of the Star Kingdom, appointed by His Majesty Kessel..."

However, before Putila could finish speaking, she was rudely interrupted by the man in the white cloak.

“My name is Nikolai, commander of the White Blade Guard,” the man named Nikolai said expressionlessly, shaking his head and bowing to Thales.

“Long ago, people often said that the blood of the imperial family came from the gods, so it was a brilliant gold, and when it flowed out, it would even sparkle in the sun—so, is your blood also golden? Does it sparkle and glow?”

Nikolai.

Putila and Wyatt seemed to recognize the name.

He and his attendant looked at each other in shock.

Thales, meanwhile, pondered Nicolai's words, somewhat bewildered.

Golden blood?

WTF?

“I don’t know,” Thales smiled. “After all, I haven’t bled much.”

"Or are you—King Nuen's personal guard—so eager to see me bleed?"

The second prince stood firm against the other party's words without backing down.

Weird.

“Hmph,” Nicolai chuckled, then his expression immediately turned icy again: “I also know a Star of Brilliance, you are far inferior to him.”

Putila took a deep breath.

Wyatt silently took a step closer to Thales, gritting his teeth as he stared at Nicolai.

Thales turned to look at Putila's reaction, his mind filled with doubt and wariness.

Who is this man?
Moreover… Thales pondered his words, then paused slightly.

Is it too far off?

What does it mean.

"Brilliant Star?"

The second prince frowned, scrutinizing Nikolai's attire and remembering his status as a member of the king's personal guard. He cautiously asked, "Are you referring to... Midil Shining Star? My uncle?"

“No, I’m talking about the Sword of Light,” Nikolai squinted, extended his left hand, and tapped his right shoulder, his face even paler. “Twelve years ago, he stabbed me in the shoulder… almost severing my shoulder blade.”

Thales's expression changed.

Another bloody year, a firsthand witness to the battlefield of stars and Exter.

It seems he suffered quite a bit at the hands of Horace Star.

His peripheral vision swept over the Kambida and Tuleha opposite him, and then over the Exter people around him.

From attacking supply lines, storming the battle lines of the three Grand Dukes of Exeter, stabbing Tuleha, stealing the Immovable Bow, to finally, his soldiers even killing the former Grand Duke of Black Sand.

The complex and multifaceted relationship between Horace and the Exter people seems rather complicated.

How much of a similar "legacy" did Horace Star, the "Sword of Light," leave to him in Exter?
Thales could only cough lightly, maintain his unchanging smile, and nod: "I'm sorry."

Putila frowned deeply, and Thales also noticed that Tuleha, behind Nicolai, let out a soft breath.

“No, there’s nothing to regret,” Nikolai said calmly. “Anyway, we’re even.”

Putila gritted her teeth and cast a sharp look at the man in front of her.

This man... wants to bring this up on our very first meeting?

Is this a preemptive deterrent?

Thales, unaware of the situation, had a sudden thought.

"We're even?" he asked cautiously. "You mean?"

Putila sighed—a sound that Thales found extremely ominous.

“Ah,” a chilling glint flashed in Nicolai’s eyes:
“I killed him—right there on the battlefield at Lyman Pass.”

Thales' expression froze at that moment.

Really bad.

He said to himself silently.

"So we're even—me and Horace."

A faint, ambiguous smile appeared on Nicolai's pale face as he raised his right hand and touched his left chest.

"Like this, a stab, then a twist, and then pulled out at an angle..."

"You should have seen the expression on his face before he died..."

Thales frowned and began to scrutinize the commander of the White Blade Guard once again.

The one who killed Horace.

The enemy of the Shining Star royal family.

"Finally, it was proven..."

Nicolai squinted and exhaled softly:

"Even the Starry Sky royal family, even the former imperial family, their blood isn't golden... and when it spurts out..."

Nicolai licked his lips, a cold smile spreading across his face, and looked down at Thales, slowly saying:
"They are all bright red."

Thales stared at the pale-faced man with a grim expression.

The other person's undisguised aggressive gaze made him feel extremely uncomfortable.

However, right now, the best expression he could have as the Prince of Stars was to be expressionless.

“Let me introduce you, Your Highness Star and everyone,” Viscount Cambida sighed, shook his head slightly, and stepped forward: “This is Lord Serrey Nicholas, one of our famous ‘Five Warriors’ of Exter.”

"People call him..."

Seeing the grim expressions on the faces of the Starry Sky members, Kambida raised an eyebrow helplessly and said:

"'The Meteorite'".

Nicolai stared intently at Thales.

It's like a hunter sizing up his prey.

Thales felt a chill run down his spine.

The Meteorite?
“Let’s skip the pointless pleasantries, Imperials,” Nikolai said slowly. “From now on, we will escort you to Dragonrise City.”

Thales was taken aback.

“Of course,” the second prince looked at Nikolai before him and nodded slightly, his mind filled with complex emotions, “if this is His Majesty Nunn’s wish.”

But he was incredibly uneasy.

King Nuen actually sent such a person to greet him.

Thales suddenly had a bad feeling about his future in Dragon City.

“Wait, according to custom and etiquette,” Putilai stepped forward solemnly, “our envoys must meet with the Exte host in a formal setting, commensurate with their status…”

"So much nonsense."

Nikolai interrupted the deputy without any politeness.

"I have no time to waste."

The next moment, Thales saw Nikolai's expression turn solemn, and his cloak flutter behind him.

“Please believe me… this is for your safety, Your Highness, ‘Prince’.” Seri Nikolai, the Meteorite, the pale-faced man, sneered with a cold smile.

He gestured towards the bewildered Thales Star, then gave an order to the guards behind him:

"Tie him up."

what?
Thales' eyes widened.

Wu Jian recently reached an agreement with his neighbor's dog.

When Wujian is busy or wants to slack off, it will take over the writing.

So if you see chapters that are of lower quality, unclear in narration, or clearly not written by Wujian—don't hesitate, it's definitely that dog's writing, it's its fault!

I will adjust the amount of dog food I pay based on how much the subscription count has decreased.

Yes, that's it.

A serious warning: the next chapter will contain explicit content. Readers who are not in a position to read this should refrain from reading it.

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(End of this chapter)