Kingdom Bloodline

Chapter 13 The Clash of Swords and Blades (Part 1)
"hateful!"

In the night filled with the sounds of battle, sudden bursts of maniacal laughter could be heard.

On the blood-red street, Maurice, the leader of the Brotherhood, leaned against the door of a general store, panting heavily as he struggled to pull a dagger without a shank from his shoulder.

Beside him, a Brotherhood elite had fallen, a similar dagger protruding from the back of his head.

Morris, the Brotherhood's human trafficking tycoon, panted and waved to stop the assassin Lyok, who was about to rush onto the roof.

"Don't chase! Kex just wants to keep us on the run."

In the distance, Knife-throwing Clown Kex of the Blood Bottle Gang leaped across the rooftops, leaving behind a trail of maniacal laughter.

"But if this continues, we'll be harassed to death by him—the Joker is a superhuman warrior, far stronger than the average superhuman."

Leyok leaped down from the street, frowning as he looked at the five remaining elite soldiers beside him, all of them wounded.

Morris took a deep breath and analyzed the situation clearly: "Kex, and the Wind-Walking Demon, were carefully selected to use their unique abilities to restrain us and prevent us from joining the others, making it easier for their super-powerful members to slaughter our elites. And—even if they are killed by the Joker with throwing knives,"

“It’s still better than being led to the presence of an air mage by him.” Morris stood up with a solemn expression and waved his hand.

Magicians, those people—those calamities that should not be provoked.

"The retreat order should have already been issued, and the same order will probably be issued in Qincha. How many of our men will survive depends on their luck."

Leyok frowned.

Morris waved to the elite troops, and the group continued on their way.

The assassin followed Maurice, cautiously offering his advice:

"Because of these 'invisible walls,' we've been taking detours, and others are probably doing the same..."

"If only we could directly approach the mage himself, then—"

Leyok was interrupted by Morris halfway through his sentence:
"impossible!"

"Don't even think about going after that guy!" Under Leyok's puzzled gaze, Morris firmly rejected his subordinate's suggestion, his tone resolute: "Remember, unless he comes to your doorstep—never go looking for trouble with a mage!"

Seeing Maurice's unpredictable expression, Leyok was speechless and frowned slightly.
Are magic users really that terrifying?
“This is the capital city. The magic master dares not show himself easily. He has to rely on his lackeys to kill us. This is our only chance to survive.”

Morris gritted his teeth, revealing a ferocious expression.

"Let those self-righteous hypocrites see the Brotherhood, see the strength of us 'lower classes'!"

"We who fought our way out of mountains of corpses and seas of blood are not comparable to those big men of the Blood Bottle Gang!"

"Even if none of us get out, Black Sword will avenge us!"

"Even if the enemy is a magic user!"

-------------------

In a pitch-black house, only an old-fashioned candle was burning.

"You mean all our men are stuck in Red Town Street? So far, apart from a few thugs, not a single person in charge has been able to get out?"

Nasri nodded, kneeling on one knee, and respectfully and fearfully reported to his superior, "The Sleepless Eye" Corbion Lancer:
"I had just taken over the shift of the sentry when the first group of people who rushed out arrived. According to them, after Lord Maurice ordered a retreat, the first few groups that tried to rush out were intercepted and killed by Bald Spin and Dorno with their ambush team. It wasn't until just now, when Bald Spin and Dorno died at the entrance to Red Street, that they were able to rush out safely."

No one knows exactly how old "Sleepless Eye" Corbion Lancer is this year. All that is known is that since the founding of the Black Street Brotherhood, he has been a giant in charge of intelligence gathering. He is mysterious and enigmatic, the darkness within darkness, and the secret within secret.

He always hid himself under a dark red cloak, revealing only his withered and thin chin, but anyone who was stared at by him felt a deep chill.

Lancer pondered for a moment, then slowly asked:
"Spin and Dorno are both among the Twelve Strongest. Spin is extremely resilient, while Dorno excels at disguise and sneak attacks. To kill them both, it would take at least someone at the level of a Thirteenth General. Is it Lyok? Is it Moria? Or is it Adrianza or the Taren brothers? Or perhaps it's the two giants, Cincha and Morris? Haven't you found anyone capable of taking responsibility?"

Lancer's words were ethereal and elusive, as if they came from another room.

Nasri shook his head, trying his best to suppress the fear in his heart.

What a blunder! Maurice will probably be very unhappy with me now—Lancer thought to himself, while remaining outwardly calm.

It's time to clean up the rats in the club.

The Brotherhood is different now compared to the squad of old guys that formed twelve years ago.

Lancer gave a strange smile and waved to Nasri to give him an order.

"Awaken and activate all the sleepless in the lower city! Regardless of whether their alert period has ended or not."

"Send all the men from the second and third sentries to the entrance of Red Town Street! From the rooftops to the sewers, I need to know exactly how many hairs are on the legs of every black fly that flies by!"

"Yes!"

"Have those who escaped carefully recall the details of the streets. Select the best sentries to infiltrate Red Street one by one and set up outposts at all costs. Pigeons, signal flares, torches—whatever you use, at least make contact with Cincha and Morris! I need a smooth channel for transmitting messages from Black Street to Red Street!"

"Yes!"

"Send the fourth sentry to other areas, from the dark streets to abandoned houses, from stinking ditches to sewers, from the main market to the west gate, to maintain full vigilance! Especially at times like these, we must not let our guard down!"

"Yes!"

"The Fifth Sentinel will split into two teams! One team will notify the other leaders within the council, and the other team will immediately head to the Kingdom of Exter and bring that old man Ramon back! If he refuses, just say it's the will of the Black Sword!"

"Yes!"

Qincha and Morris are both among the Big Six, and they're not to be underestimated. The Blood Bottle Gang can't possibly trap them without paying a price! Lancer lowered his head and stroked the ruby ​​ring on his hand.

That fatso, back in the day, was someone who could hold the position of Black Sword's rear guard! As for that tall guy Qincha, hmph, the only thing harder than his fist is probably his personality.

And, Lancer thought to himself, there was also that damned cook, Edmund.
The outcome is still uncertain.

Lancer's expression suddenly shifted beneath his cloak; he had noticed his subordinate's unusual behavior.

"Is there anything else you haven't said?"

"Yes!" Nasri, drenched in cold sweat, collapsed to the ground, gritting his teeth as he said:
"The patrolmen just discovered that all the beggars who found the abandoned house have run away!"

"We only captured a portion of them, and they are currently imprisoned in the water dungeon, where they are to be tortured."

Lancer's chin twitched slightly.

The Sleepless Eyes asked calmly, "What are you interrogating?"

Nasri clenched his fists, slumped his head, and uttered the devastating news with difficulty:

"Quide Rhoda is dead in the abandoned house!"

"His second-in-command, Nar Rick, is outside, requesting an audience with you, sir!"

-------------------

"Get down and hide." Yara's tone turned cold again.

"This battle is unavoidable."

Thales slid down quickly, lay down next to a hidden stone block, and took out a black cloth to cover his nose.

Even though the surroundings were filled with the smell of blood.

Thales had just taken two breaths when Yara darted up and leaped onto the roof.

The female bartender did a backflip, bending her upper body backward and pressing her hands to the ground, as if dodging a hidden weapon.

"call out!"

As Yara rolled to her feet, Thales heard a sharp gust of wind rushing through the street!
Immediately afterwards, Yara fell from the roof to the ground, the two swords on her legs already in her hands.

The wolf-leg knife slashed out repeatedly!

A few gusts of wind blew, and it hurried away.

Amidst the indistinguishable wind, Thales only heard two whooshing sounds of clothes fluttering, and he had no idea whether Yara had hit her target.

Then, a thin, gray figure appeared on the street.

"Hey hey hey, isn't this the female bartender from Sunset Bar? Wearing goggles, are you here for a swim?"

"Don't be so surprised. After all, I've also hidden my appearance and gone to the underworld to drink before."

"You're wearing gray today too? It's a shame the weather isn't good, otherwise we would be wearing matching outfits."

A soft yet strange voice, a flippant yet arrogant tone.

Yara never spoke much during battle. She gently knelt down on one knee, and Thales knew this was a sign that she was about to unleash her power.

The man in gray took a few steps forward, and in the dim moonlight, the tattoos on his face were barely visible.

"Perhaps I should introduce myself. I am Midila Rolf, or you may call me 'The Ghost of the Wind'."

Thales felt a chill run down his spine—yet another one of the Twelve Supremes.

"By the way, bartender, did you take care of Dorno and Spence?"

"Don't get me wrong, I actually hate those two troublemakers too, but the adults have given orders—"

Yara suddenly activated the acceleration!
The next instant, Yara, who had been silent, had already rushed up to him.

The two swords, at odd angles, slash out simultaneously and change direction at the same time.

A series of deadly strikes!

Thales shouted excitedly in his heart.

Watching Yara fight so many battles, charging in and out of crowds, it would be a lie to say that she didn't feel a spark of hope for becoming stronger and a thirst for power.

But Rolf vanished into thin air!
The twin swords slashed through the air.

It didn't work? Thales' heart tightened.

Without pausing for a moment, Yara spun around and thrust her wolf-leg knife into the air with her right hand!
"Ding!"

A crisp metallic clang.

Rolf reappeared to Yara's right and quickly took two steps back.

“Hey, hey, you’re just like Lyok,” Rolf flicked the hidden blade on the back of his left hand, exclaiming helplessly, “Do you Brotherhood assassins all sense my location? And why don’t you like to say—”

But before he could finish speaking, a wolf-leg knife flew towards him! Instant Kill Knife.

"Hoohoo!"

A strong wind blew around Rolf, making the wolf leg knife in mid-air fly unsteadily.

"when!"

He was then sent flying by a single sword strike.

But Yara's figure appeared in front of the Wind Demon in an instant, almost as fast as a throwing knife!
Before he could react, the bartender swung her left arm backhand and slashed across Rolf's chest!
Did it hit the mark?

Thales was so excited he couldn't take his eyes off the attack, waiting for this "instant kill" to succeed.

But to his disappointment, he saw Rolf's gray clothes billowing and floating upwards against gravity at an incredible speed.

He narrowly avoided that fatal blow!

But Thales felt that Rolf's dodge this time was somewhat awkward, because his figure was now vaguely visible, no longer as invisible as before.

Yara tried to continue her attack, but her feet seemed to be tripped by something invisible, preventing her from continuing her relentless assault.

The power of the wind? Thales lowered his head, silently recalling the knowledge from his past life.

The female bartender silently took a step back, picked up another wolf leg knife from the ground, and waited for the next opportunity.

"That was close! Does even a bartender from the Brotherhood have this kind of skill?"

Rolf lightly touched a scratch on his waist and abdomen, his face displeased.

The wound was deeper than expected, and the angle of the knife was strange—the speed and force of the strike were beyond prediction.

Is this sword technique even a threat to a top-tier expert?

I feel like I've heard that name somewhere before.

Yara adjusted her goggles, held the knife in her right hand, and knelt down on one knee.

“Hey, bartender,” Rolf suddenly spoke in a sinister tone as he saw the other man preparing to attack.
"Before I came to the Stars, I also traveled on the continent for a while and once witnessed an assassination attempt in the Duchy of Sera."

"That was the most direct, the most risky, and the most difficult assassination attempt I've ever seen in my life."

"The assassin used dual swords, launched from the rooftop, and charged out with a continuous and unstoppable attack."

Rolf lowered his head, his soft voice filled with solemnity and seriousness:

"So, 'Locust Blade' Baannet Sarredon."

"Who are you to me?"

Yara didn't reply, but Thales instinctively felt something was wrong.

Baannet Sarityton?
The next instant, the bartender's graceful figure rushed out and attacked Rolf in a flash!
Thales had a strange feeling that the silent bartender's emotions had changed after hearing that name!
The female bartender, who had been silent for a long time, suddenly roared as if she were going mad: "Stranger!"

Ya LS Lydon, enraged, attacked!
So far, Thales has witnessed Yara's actions many times, and they have always been quiet, low-key, direct, and deadly.

But this time it's different.

This time, Thales heard Yara's knife explode with a thunderous roar, unlike anything he had ever heard before!

"boom!"

Rolf's expression changed drastically.

-------------------

"Keng!"

The two swords clashed together like thunderbolts!
Both figures emitted shimmering energy, one star-blue and the other slightly red.

The promising noble guard, Cohen Karabyan, was gritting his teeth, feeling the power coming from his enemy's sword. His opponent was no weaker than him, at least a super-class swordsman—how long had it been since he had encountered such an opponent?

Since leaving the battlefield where he fought against the orcs?
Was it that same time when he challenged Miranda?
The two forces intertwined and clashed, but Cohen knew he was already at a slight disadvantage.

A star-blue power began to shimmer on his silver-white sword. Cohen knew that if things continued like this, he would inevitably be the loser.

His body jolted suddenly, and the resulting vibration caused him to miss the two men who were locked in a sword fight.

The two figures suddenly separated, taking a few steps forward due to inertia.

Cohen took six steps to steady himself.

His enemy, however, managed to maintain his balance in two steps.

Cohen looked serious and began to think it necessary to reconsider Director Robick's words.

Then he turned around, looked at the formidable enemy before him, and questioned, "What you are using is one of the sword techniques of the Tower of the End."

The other party didn't reply.

"You are also a Terminator Swordsman, and you trained in the Tower of Termination. You could have had a better place to go."

"Why would you willingly stoop to the level of the Blood Bottle Gang, becoming a thug, committing crimes, and bullying the weak?"

"The sword heart bestowed upon you by the Tower of Endings, is it a resolve to be a lackey, a bully who preys on the weak and fears the strong?!"

His enemy slowly turned around, his left shoulder clad in black half-armor, his right arm wrapped in red bandages, and powerful muscle lines faintly visible beneath his red and black attire.

This was a man with a fair complexion, but he did not give off an air of elegance or refinement, because the look in his eyes was filled with murderous intent.

The swordsman in red and black silently sized up the guard from head to toe.

Was it this green rat that broke through the adults' trap?
This green-skinned guy, his stance and starting position—is he someone from the Tower of the End, someone who has been trained in the military?
The red and black swordsman twirled the cyan longsword with only a single-sided hilt in his hand and said indifferently:

"Hey, Green Skin."

"Since when did the Security Bureau dare to interfere in the Blood Bottle Gang's affairs?"

Cohen stepped forward, closing the distance with the swordsman, and said coldly:
"I am now questioning another sword, not as a vigilante, but as the Terminator—Cohen Karabyan! Answer me!"

The scene was quiet for a few seconds.

Until the expression of the red and black swordsman gradually became serious:
"My sword heart is an untamed will, a free choice, and a pursuit of power."

"As long as my demands are met, the Blood Vial Gang, the Brotherhood, the Shadow Shield, the Kingdom Secret Service, the Royal Guard, or the Tower of the End, it makes no difference to me."

"So your question is completely meaningless."

"As for you, you green-skinned bastard, you willingly became a lackey of a nation. Isn't what you gained from that conservative tower the awareness of a lackey?"

Upon realizing that the other party, despite being a swordsman of the end, showed no respect for the Tower of the End and even harbored some hostility, Cohen's expression finally turned solemn, filled with surprise and shock.

He recalled a story his teacher had told him while they were drinking during his training in the tower.

That tragedy of brothers fighting amongst themselves and engaging in hand-to-hand combat.

Cohen gritted his teeth and said incredulously:
"you……"

"You are the inheritor of the Sword of Destruction from outside the tower!"

"You are a member of the 'Sword of Calamity' lineage!"

No sooner had he finished speaking than the red and black swordsman moved!
A faint crimson power of termination surged around him like a tide, coalescing into a fierce wave, which descended with astonishing force along with his cyan longsword!

The sword intent was fierce and violent!
Cohen felt as if he had fallen into a crimson vortex, his power of destruction shattered and rendered unusable.

The swordsman's ferocity surged forth with his longsword, heading straight for Cohen's chest!

His fair face was now covered with frost, a far cry from his previous composure.

The red and black swordsman said coldly, "'Sword of Calamity'! Calamity? You're comparing us to those monsters?"

"Is that what you call Lord Crassus's sword?"

Cohen gritted his teeth, and the two swords clashed rapidly in the air!
“Very well,” the swordsman said, still having the strength to speak amidst the fierce sword fight, “to you outdated, conservative, effeminate academics, we are your destined calamity.”

“One day, we will destroy the Tower of the End and prove your absurdity.”

His tone was icy cold, filled with murderous intent.

Just like the surging blue longsword that came rushing towards him the next moment.

Cohen's sword blocked the cyan longsword, but in an instant, the opponent's surging and violent finishing power came like a raging tide!
Cohen was jolted as the opponent's finishing power invaded his body without any resistance!
It corroded his strength like a strong acid.

The guard's sword, gleaming with blue starlight, was instantly deflected.

Cohen gritted his teeth in shock and retreated in a sorry state, but the cyan sword seemed to be a persistent killing intent, and no matter which direction he moved to dodge, he could not avoid it!

The young vigilant steeled his resolve, unleashing his own destructive power to cleanse the alien invaders from his body.

This is the brilliance of the stars—Cohen sighed inwardly: the power of termination that should have shone brightly in the fierce battle was used by him in this way.

The next moment, the guard's silver sword flashed and was thrust out again, this time aimed directly at the swordsman's throat.

But his enemies remained frenzied and reckless, ignoring the impending sword strike and instead wielding the blue sword amidst the crimson tide in their hands, aiming it at Cohen's heart!
The crimson power of termination, erupting with sword intent, tore through the clothes on Cohen's chest.

Cohen struggled to maintain his sword intent, but could only watch helplessly as the two swords crossed paths, each thrusting towards the other's heart and throat amidst the friction of their finishing power!

Damn it!

Is this the style of the "Sword of Calamity" lineage?
Such a frenzied and ruthless sword style, unparalleled power, a will to stop at nothing, and an awareness of mutual destruction.

And then there's... a terrifyingly violent, even infiltrating, deadly force unlike anything I've ever encountered before...

No wonder they were banished from the tower!

Cohen smiled bitterly as he faced his death.

Two swords, one blue and one white, one stirring up an unstoppable, frenzied red tide, the other flickering with a faint, ever-changing starlight.

The winner will be decided.

(End of this chapter)