Kingdom Bloodline

Chapter 122 When Dawn Rises (Part 1)

“Lord Putila asked me to add some firewood for you, Your Highness.” The new recruit Willow Ken brought a bundle of firewood and respectfully walked to Thales’ side, who was sitting blankly by the fire.

Thales nodded blankly, his mind racing over King Nunn's suggestion.

This was their last stop before entering Dragon Sky City.

Behind them, under Putila's urging, Wyah and Rolf, along with the veterans of Starfall, were nervously checking their equipment.

The Black Sand soldiers, who had set up camp, were busy at work, while the White Blade Guards remained guarding them like prison guards, each with a wary look and an unfriendly expression.

It was as if they truly had a life-or-death feud.

“Willow,” the second prince spoke softly as the recruits prepared to leave and return to their ranks, “Since our journey began, have you ever been afraid, or at least nervous?”

Willow respectfully put down the firewood, and was taken aback when he heard this.

“You know,” Thales said slowly, “that every day you struggle with inexplicable dangers, worry about the cold, worry about fighting, worry about the enemy, worry about everything.”

Willow paused for a moment, as if he hadn't expected the prince to ask him that.

The recruit turned his head, thought for a moment, and then replied, "I am very nervous in the moments before a battle. After all, I am not like Uncle Jenard, who can remain calm even when a knife is about to strike my head."

“But I’m not afraid,” Willow frowned, deep in thought, even forgetting his respectful tone, “Although it’s dangerous, I think this is much simpler…”

“Simple?” Thales asked doubtfully.

“What I mean is, on the battlefield, everything is fast: I throw a gun, and there are only two outcomes, life or death, and that’s good.” Willow’s gaze fell silent, and his expression became somewhat desolate: “At least when you work hard, there will be a reward, and you know what the outcome will be—so there’s nothing to be afraid of.”

Thales stared intently at the recruit's face.

"Wello, who taught you to use dual pistols? Your parents or elders?" Thales asked, his expression unreadable, as he warmed his hands by the fire. "Or some veteran who could use dual pistols?"

Willow touched the two pistols strapped to his back and scratched his face in confusion.

“No one taught me, Your Highness.” After confirming that the prince was indeed just chatting, the recruit slowly shook his head: “As for my parents, they passed away eleven or twelve years ago.”

Twelve years ago.

Thales kept this number in his heart.

“So it is…” Thales said slowly.

“You know about the war in the North…” Willow shrugged, expressionless. “There was no food left in the village. My parents followed the villagers, taking what little they had, to the nearest town to exchange for food, but they never came back.”

Thales raised his eyes.

“But the old folks in the village say that whether you encounter the Exter people or our Star army, you won’t have a good ending—the victor demands tribute, and the loser is simply plundered.” Willo said dejectedly, “Those were chaotic times.”

The two remained silent for a few seconds.

"So how did you survive?" Thales asked quietly.

“The gifts of the mountains,” Willow sighed, “though the adults say they are gifts from God, and only travelers can enjoy them.”

“But my sister and I were starving.” A look of dejection crossed the recruit’s face. “And we weren’t the only ones doing it. By the end of that winter, even the most remote treetops had been looted.”

The post-war famine in the North… Thales recalled the Duke of Arendt’s hysteria in the Palace of Restoration.

“But when spring came, there was still not enough food, Your Highness. My sister was so hungry that she was biting her fingers…” Willow stared blankly at the fire, struggling with his memories: “Fortunately, the Mu River flowed through our village, and I followed the villagers and did my best to fish.”

“We didn’t know how to make nets, and we couldn’t borrow fishing nets back then, nor could we find any places with fish.”

"So I could only rely on the spearfishing techniques I used when I was little, and wait by the river every day... At first, I always failed and couldn't find any fish. The other adults would share the fish they caught with us. My sister would be very happy whenever I brought a fish home..."

“When I went out in the morning, I saw my sister’s smiling face, but I didn’t know if I would have enough to show for it today,” Willow said in a low voice. “Many times, your efforts are useless.”

Thales exhaled: "But you still survived."

“Later, I gradually became more skilled and was able to find schools of fish,” Willow said, looking down at his hands and frowning. “When the river freezes over in winter, there are even more fish to catch, and the fish huddle together in the cold…”

"As we grow up, we can't just eat anymore. We have to catch more fish and exchange them at the market. Sometimes we can even get copper coins in return."

“I started by trying to spear fish with both hands, and after a while, I could even pierce through ice with one hand—so on the battlefield, I always liked to carry an extra gun.”

"I see," Thales sighed.

"But you answered the call this time," the second prince said calmly, "what about your sister? Will she stay at home?"

Willow's face darkened.

"No." The recruit tried his best to smile, but in the end, he could only show a bitter expression.

“She got typhoid fever last year, and we had no money and nowhere to buy medicine—only medicine available in big towns,” Willow said, trembling. “All I could do was feed her hot water over and over again.”

Thales frowned.

Kolia—the little girl with typhoid fever—appeared before my eyes.

Finally, my sister said she wanted to eat fish.

"But when I came back..."

Willow fell silent, staring intently at the fire.

Thales didn't say anything either.

Several seconds later, all they could hear were the voices of people around them and the popping of the fire.

Until Willow, looking dejected, spoke again:
"I buried her by the river."

The recruit blinked hard, as if something foreign had invaded his eyes, and whispered:

"I really wish there were fish in the River of Prisons, Your Highness."

Willow silently gave a somewhat awkward bow, then turned and left.

Just then, Thales called out to the recruit.

"Willow".

“There are fish in the River of Hell.” The second prince smiled as he looked at Willow, who had turned around. “I’ve read about it in books.”

----

"Are you worried about what's coming?" Putila stood beside Thales, watching the departing recruit's back.

Thales, who was sitting by the fire, looked up.

“You know what, Putila,” Thales said absentmindedly, “that recruit just said he thinks life is very simple now.”

Putila raised an eyebrow.

“Stab it out, and there are only two outcomes: life or death. That’s good—that’s what he said,” Thales said, turning his head.

“But my life is complicated,” Thales said, his gaze darkening. “It’s so complicated that it’s exhausting.”

"I thought the politics in the Star Kingdom were complicated enough, but I didn't expect that Exter, who is known for his ruggedness and boldness, is no less so."

A treacherous grand duke, a king bent on revenge, and a minister whose words are laced with sarcasm.

Everything was quite different from his imagination of the North and Exter.

That cheerful country where people clink glasses and toast each other amidst the snow and cold wind.

“The rough and bold are just the northerners,” Putilai sat down, took out his pipe, and shook his head. “But you are facing those nobles, those rulers, those who wield power.”

Thales frowned: "King Nuen, Grand Duke Lomba, and the five grand dukes I am about to meet, they are all from the North, aren't they?"

“They are a different kind of creature.” Putila lit his pipe and said quietly, “Ordinary people live on food and air, but they live on power.”

“The new recruit, he’s also from the North. Although he’s of lowly rank, at least he doesn’t have to live in constant fear and trepidation,” Thales said somberly. “As for those nobles and lords, don’t they think it’s pathetic to live like this?”

“You occupy a more prominent position, and your every move has far-reaching and profound implications,” Putila exhaled a puff of smoke. “And that is the price and sacrifice of power.”

“Good heavens, I’ve only just regained my identity as a prince,” the seven-year-old prince sighed like a little adult, “and I’m already getting tired of this kind of life.”

Maybe I'm just not used to it.

He said quietly.

Perhaps if this kind of life could last a little longer, perhaps if we could have more of these experiences...

Will I be able to...?
“The life you are tired of is what many people dream of,” Putila frowned, returning to his previous dismissive address: “Little Prince, go and see the lives of ordinary people, see those who are busy with their three meals a day, and then think about this sentence again.”

“Think about that village before we entered the North… that pretentious baron and his people.”

Recalling Willow's experience, Thales snorted softly.

“Of course,” Thales gave a wry smile. “I hope I will have the opportunity to see the whole world and meet different people, whether it’s two continents or countless islands.”

“Then you’d better prepare early, there are some places where you need to…” Putilai, shaking his head, suddenly stopped talking.

He remembered the identity of the child in front of him.

He sighed silently to himself: As the heir to the Throne of Stars, you...

Thales also realized his mistake.

“Ha, travel the world…” He smiled bitterly: “I’m afraid I’ll never have that opportunity in my life, will I?”

Fight for the stars.

To die for the stars.

Born for the stars.

The two stood in silence by the fire for a moment.

“You know,” Thales murmured, “His Majesty Kessel is always delighted when he speaks of his Uncle John.”

“I suddenly know why,” Thales said, exhaling a breath of warm air into his hand. “John is like his eyes, going to corners he can’t reach, traveling the whole world.”

Putila let out a soft breath.

"Don't be discouraged."

“You will eventually become king,” the gaunt deputy said calmly. “When that time comes, you will see the vast world from a different height, from an angle we cannot even imagine.”

Thales didn't speak, he just stared blankly at the fire, then suddenly burst out laughing.

“That sounds boring,” the prince shook his head. “I mean, being a king—how could my grandfather have lasted so long?”

Putila stared at Thales, her gaze lingering on him.

“Kings can live wonderful lives too,” Putila observed Thales’ expression and slowly began, “The thirty-nine kings of the stars are all unique.”

"And one of them had the most special experience... probably the most legendary and colorful Star King since Tormund I."

"Oh?" Thales' interest was piqued. "Who is it?"

"Would you be interested in hearing me sing a bard's poem, Your Highness?" Putila asked slowly, taking a puff from his pipe.

“Of course,” Thales’ eyes lit up. “Gilbert said you were once a bard? And traveled to many places?”

Minstrels... these people who travel around and make a living by reciting poems and doing all sorts of small businesses.

But even in Everstar City, Thales had only seen it twice, and both times it was at the Grand Market.

“Ah, bards…that is one of my proudest talents,” Putila tapped his pipe and said casually, “Next, I will sing— ‘When Dawn Rises,’ a story of three friends’ adventures together.”

Thales gestured for him to enter.

He cleared his throat, hummed a few tunes, and found the right pitch.

Then, the deputy envoy clapped along to the rhythm and slowly sang a melodious and cheerful song:

"The sun rises again, and dawn breaks."

The three of them traveled together in a hurry.

"We've known each other for many years, and our understanding is deep."

"Sword and axe, staff and lamp, faith and promise, righteousness and gratitude." "Brothers are as one, hands and feet are of one mind."

"Walk through villages, bathe in moonlight, enter ancient castles, and cross mountains."

"The secret land of elves, the homeland of dwarves, the lair of demons, the territory of monsters."

"I have escaped death, experienced disaster, faced terror, and never despaired."

"Adventures are unfolding before us, and experiences recount the past."

"Until the sun rises again."

"Until dawn."

Putila's singing gradually drifted out, attracting many soldiers to stop and watch.

Marquis Slay walked quietly toward them, while Nicolai, in the distance, frowned as he looked at the fire.

Even Ada, who was standing to the side, raised her head.

Thales pondered the poem's content, which was about three close friends who experienced many adventures and legends.

At that moment, Puttier's rhythm and melody suddenly shifted, becoming deep and resonant, unsettling:

"On a blood-red night, the sea surges, and the enemy hides within the waves."

"A bloodthirsty king, an invincible commander, Nightwings soaring through the sky, an undead legion, an army stretching across the plains, and covetous eyes."

"A terrifying black shadow blotted out the sky and came rushing in, a vicious enemy looming in the distance, seemingly without end."

"The enemy in the East is ferocious and savage, seizing land and destroying cities wherever it goes."

"The western expeditionary horses charged forward one after another, and at night only the cries of crows could be heard on the battlefield."

"The north wind howls, the king's sword is shattered. The mountains mourn, the knight's lance is broken."

"The blade is broken, the shield is wounded, the dragon bows its head, and the stars dim."

"Chaos and sorrow, despair and disaster."

"Fear is endless, trembling is constant, and death never ceases."

"Hope is lost, light is gone, and all that remains is the struggle to survive."

"The sun fails to rise, and darkness engulfs the earth."

"Dawn breaks, blood-red spreads across the sky."

Putila's melody finally sank to its deepest point.

The listener's emotions also plummeted to their lowest point.

Thales, however, began to ponder the meaning behind the poetry.

Nightwing, East, North Wind, Mountains, Dragon, Stars... those words... should all have definite origins.

He squinted slightly, mentally matching each one to the others.

Putila's melody began to rise slowly.

"When beauty is about to fade away."

"When the future is no longer bright."

"At this darkest hour, at midnight."

"The three brothers finally embarked on their journey."

"Their adventures are history, but the legends of heroes are all the rage now."

"Unwavering and refusing to look back."

"Until the sun rises again."

"Until dawn."

The next moment, Putila's tone suddenly became impassioned, as if the scene in the poem had changed its style:

"Blood is everywhere, washing away the prince's crown; a promise made is a promise made with utmost generosity and sincerity."

"Midiel already has his sword and shield in hand."

"The night is deep, testing the vision of the prophet; on the path of the lost, only one holds the guiding light."

“Kai Peng walks with a smile and a cane in hand.”

"The sacrifices are endless, tempering the soul of heroes, alone and solitary, swearing oaths of brotherhood in blood."

"Sarah's horn blared all night long."

"Until the sun rises again."

"Until dawn."

More and more soldiers gathered around Putila and Thales.

Even the elf Eda slowly walked to their side.

Upon hearing a few keywords, Thales's mind went blank.

He now knew the scene in which the poem was being sung.

Putila continued singing:
"When three men work together, they can fight alongside a king against an enemy; when brothers are of one mind, they can contend with death."

"The news spread far and wide, and people regained their confidence and gathered under the flag."

"Courage is the bone, hope is the body."

"Brothers and sisters are together, united in purpose and action."

"Sarah's great axe cuts through the future, Midil's sword and shield guard her left and right."

“Kaipeng’s gaze pierced through everything, leading them to the final battlefield.”

"A bloodthirsty king is watching with predatory eyes, and hordes of ferocious beasts roam the mountains and plains in the dead of night."

"The flames of war have been ignited, the bugles have sounded, and the final battle has begun."

"Until the sun rises again."

"Until dawn."

The singing stopped abruptly.

Putila slowly closed her mouth.

Thales suddenly looked up.

"Why did it stop?" he asked, somewhat bewildered.

“The bottom part is too long,” Putila shook his head helplessly, relighting his extinguished pipe: “and my voice is not as good as it used to be.”

Moreover, the story that followed wasn't very pleasant—Putila thought to himself.

Marquis Slays, who had appeared beside him without him noticing, slowly began to clap his hands.

Gradually, one by one, the soldiers who had stopped to listen began to applaud.

“A wonderful chant, a beautiful voice,” Slays smiled. “Even in the Dragon Kiss Academy of the Duchy of Anrenzo, there are probably few bards like this!”

Putila bowed slightly to express her gratitude.

"Get back to your posts!" An untimely voice cut in halfway through. The Meteorite, Nicolai, strode over and loudly reprimanded the soldiers in an unfriendly tone: "Are the songs of the Star People really that good? Do the people of Black Sand Territory really love art that much?"

Many soldiers shouted in dissatisfaction, but most of them dispersed.

"Do you have to attract so much attention before you even begin?" After the soldiers dispersed, Nikolai stared at them with an unpleasant expression.

“Isn’t this exactly what you wanted?” Thales shook his head. “Shouldn’t you be looking like you’re going to kill us?”

Nikolai took a step forward without any hesitation.

Ada, who had appeared out of nowhere, blocked his way.

"Don't do that, kid," the elf said lazily, "I don't want to beat you up."

“Alright, alright,” Marquis Slays said with a smile, stepping between them. From a distance, it looked as if Commas’s envoy had stopped yet another conflict. “It’s just a poem… and besides, he’s reciting a legend that all three kingdoms are proud of, isn’t he?”

Nikolai glared at Shrews with displeasure.

"A legend that all three kingdoms were proud of?" Thales' eyes lit up.

“Putila, of the three you chanted,” Thales said, his eyes shining, “one of them is my ancestor, isn’t he?”

“Yes,” Putila took a deep breath, took another drag of his tobacco, and smiled. “You must have seen his portrait in the Mindis Hall.”

Thales squinted.

Before his eyes appeared the image of the sword-and-shield warrior on the left, standing before a towering tree, wearing a crown and with a robust physique, from the play "The Three Kings of the Stars" in the Mindis Hall.

Putila said calmly:
"The Oathkeeper of the Star Kingdom".

"The twenty-third Supreme King."

“Midiel Shining Star, the fourth Midil King in your family.”

Thales suddenly realized: "The Midil copper coin... refers to him?"

In the standard currency of the Star Kingdom, the gold coins are engraved with the portrait of the founding monarch, Tormund I, while the silver coins feature the "wise king" Mindis III, and the bronze coins bear the portrait of Midil IV.

It happens to be the Three Kings of the Stars.

Putila nodded: "His legend is told in the psalms."

“It’s not just him,” Marquis Slayth reminded him with a smile, “Although he is great, the Oathkeeper is only one of three.”

Putila chuckled.

"Ok."

Under Thales's curious gaze, he added:
"Before becoming king, Prince Midil and his two friends, Sarah from Exeter and Kempin from Commas, embarked on ten years of adventures together."

"An adventure?" Thales asked in surprise.

A future king, embarking on an adventure?

“Yes,” Putila exclaimed, “their steadfast friendship and remarkable lives will always be talked about by posterity.”

"'Hero' Sarah, the Western people call him 'hero'. In the past thousand years, only the hero of the final war, the founder of Exter, Nekaru Ex, has received this honor."

“‘Prophet’ Kempin Nehra, a strategist with uncanny foresight, was said to be so wise that even the gods were jealous of him, and he could even read people’s hearts with his gaze.”

“‘Oath Keeper’ Midil Star, a noble prince, a fearless prince, a model of humanity who was willing to give up his throne for friendship and oath.”

Thales felt a jolt in his heart.

He couldn't help but notice that Marquis Slade remained silent in the face of these three names, and even Nicolai looked serious.

Even Ada, who was usually indifferent to everything, silently lowered her head.

Putila let out a soft breath.

"These are the three legendary heroes of the Western Continent."

"And the most glorious moments of their lives."

"The Battle of Dawn".

(End of this chapter)