Kingdom Bloodline

Chapter 131 The Strange Swordsman
Thales followed Myrk, winding his way through the grand yet monotonous Valhalla.

Having evaded the eyes and ears of the five dukes, Thales finally met the two men he hated most in front of an open-air watchtower.

"You look so composed—it seems you're adapting quite well, little prince."

The leader of the White Blade Guard, who had long since removed his cloak and mask, stood with his back to the view outside the watchtower, calmly looking at the Star Prince who was giving him a accusatory look.

“If you mean you were almost forced to slit your own throat in front of six old men with a sword I couldn’t even lift…” Thales exhaled a long breath and said angrily, “Yes, I’m doing quite well.”

“An old man? I remember that Grand Duke Pefit of Fengzhao City is still quite young, not old at all.” Nikolai chuckled mockingly, which made Thales even more dissatisfied.

"I'm starting to doubt whether what you're conveying is truly King Nunn's will," Thales said angrily, glaring at the two men. "Or is it that 'my life' is simply not a consideration for him?"

“Well,” Marquis Slays of Cornmas said sheepishly, “I warned you before that His Majesty Nunn’s attitude might be a bit… forceful and rough…”

Thales abruptly turned his head and stared at him.

“Well, it seems that perhaps it’s not just toughness, His Majesty also has a little bit of, uh,” under Thales’s glare, Srace rubbed his cane, gave an awkward laugh, and after a moment’s thought, finally found two more appropriate words, blinking as he said:
"Wild and unrestrained?"

Thales took a deep breath, barely suppressing the urge to curse.

"Next time something like this happens, before you push me into some deadly trap, please inform me in standard, un-Northern and Western vernacular, rhetorically correct human language..." Thales' gaze was icy as he watched the two of them enunciate each word: "Is this how you treat collaborators and allies? And..."

Is there any honor in driving a seven-year-old child to suicide?

Nicolai and Slade exchanged a glance; the former's expression remained unchanged, while the latter, leaning on his cane, gave a polite, slight bow.

“Coercion? Honor? I think you’ve misunderstood,” Marquis Slays sighed, his expression turning serious. “The dukes—all they’ve been talking about from beginning to end is killing you, and the benefits and consequences that will follow. As for the method of killing you, and whether it violates honor, that’s just like a chef serving a dish, it doesn’t matter much.”

Thales frowned deeply: "So, you actually knew from the beginning what kind of situation I would face?"

Nicolai shrugged.

“And seven years old and children,” Srace said solemnly, “I think you should understand now.”

"Because of your reputation and performance, no one dares to treat you as an ordinary seven-year-old child, and not only that..."

“You are a symbol, a sign, in many people’s eyes, the ‘Heir of the Stars.’” The Marquis of Cornmus took a deep breath and stared intently at a section of the Hall of Heroes’ floor tiles. “It is far more important than your age, your character, your reputation, or even you yourself.”

"Nobody cares if you're a child or not."

With mixed feelings, Thales' face twitched, and then he couldn't help but laugh out loud.

damn it.

These politicians.

“Don’t act like a wronged girl, little prince,” Nicolai hugged his arms and sneered, “Courage and boldness are the qualities that the people of the North admire most. If you can’t even get past the first hurdle…”

“You know, not everyone is qualified to be His Majesty’s ally.”

Thales gritted his teeth.

“Heh,” the second prince sneered, “this method of verifying alliance qualifications is quite rare.”

“Not often is good,” Nikolai shrugged, looking down at the prince of the stars, his eyes gleaming with a strange light: “Welcome to the North.”

The three remained silent for a few seconds.

"So, has Nunn found his enemy? That collaborator and scapegoat in Rumba?" Thales tried his best to remain calm.

"And also your enemy," Marquis Slayth chuckled softly, "Now that we've met for the first time, and the first step of the trap has been completed, what's our next plan..."

"There was no follow-up."

Thales said calmly.

Shrew and Nicole were both taken aback.

Thales raised his head, the anger in his eyes now turning into determination.

We must never follow their rules.

otherwise……

Images of Serena Corleone and Chaman Rumba flashed before his eyes.

...I didn't even know when I was sold.

“Nun’s plan ends here,” Thales heard himself say, each word uttered with suppressed emotion. “I am not that old man’s puppet, to be manipulated by him.”

Smiley grinned awkwardly.

"What do you mean by this?" The temperature in Nikolai's eyes gradually cooled.

“Listen, if Nunn wants my help, he’d better respect my will, and his life!” Thales said firmly, meeting Nikolai’s fierce gaze head-on. “From now on, do as I say.”

The leader of the White Blade Guard kept his mouth shut and exhaled a heavy breath through his nose.

“Now is not the time for you to throw a tantrum, little prince.” Nicolai stared at Thales, his eyes narrowing, a chilling glint in them, his tone menacing: “Don’t forget you are in Exter, in Dragonstreet, far from your king father, and your entourage is not with you.”

“Valhalla is dangerous; many ghost stories of death have taken place here,” Nikolai said, his eyes burning.

“There’s nothing I can do, I’m only seven years old,” Thales said, determined to seize control of the situation. “You know, if I accidentally die here, then you…”

Nicolai interrupted him coldly: "We have countless ways to discipline disobedient children without endangering their lives."

“And don’t forget,” Nicolai turned his head, revealing the hilt of the unusually shaped knife behind him, and threatened without any attempt to hide it, “I’m very good at dealing with people with the surname Canxing, especially those who bear the title of ‘Second Prince’.”

Thales gritted his teeth inwardly.

"You killed the Sword of Light on the battlefield eleven years ago, and you're still so smug about it?" The Second Prince retorted rudely in Shire's eyes, "I've seen the battlefield, I know that battle... He fell with eleven wounds, and you were just one of hundreds of attackers who happened to deliver the final blow."

"Compared to driving a seven-year-old to suicide, your glorious record is not much better."

Nikolai watched him silently, slowly lowering his arms, his expression gradually shifting from threat to murderous intent.

“Alright, alright,” Marquis Slay quickly stepped between the two, smiling as he tried to smooth things over: “As allies, we shouldn’t break our agreement before we’ve achieved our goal… That’s not a good way to do business.”

“Perhaps King Nunn should find another ally,” Thales replied coldly, “the kind who would give his life for him at any time.”

“This is not a planet where you can give orders, you little imperial brat,” Nikolai said sarcastically. “You’d better get that straight.”

"You must do exactly as we say..."

“How about this!” the second prince interrupted Nikolai.

Faced with Nicolai's frightening expression, Thales chuckled, his face instantly turning cold: "I'm going to find the five Grand Dukes and have a good talk with them."

Srace frowned.

"For example: King Nunn is searching for the murderer who killed his son, and you are all on his suspect list..."

Nicolai and Slade's expressions slowly changed.

Before Nicolai's murderous gaze and Srace's furrowed brow, Thales calmly threatened:

"And in the end, no matter who he confirms it is, Nunn will tear that person apart."

"And then what? Right, the murderer is even more vigilant, and Nunn's revenge fails—unless he tries to kill all five grand dukes at the same time."

"The next day, the murderer will return to his territory and continue to live a carefree life, only deepening his hatred."

"Then, ten or eight years, until Nunn dies, until the election of the new king is crowned..."

Thales narrowed his eyes: "Good luck to the Walton family—I look forward to representing the Stars in the future, establishing good diplomatic relations with the new king, and supporting him and the Grand Dukes in handling Exter's internal affairs."

"For example, granting Dragon Sky City, which has no heir, to another ruling family?"

Nicolai and Srace's expressions grew increasingly grim.

“Therefore, you’d better show some respect to the future supreme king of the stars, the Northerners.” Thales sneered, “In your words… do exactly as I say…”

"And also, don't call me an Imperial. Every time you remind me, I feel like I'm not in Exter," Thales said casually, raising his right index finger and tapping it lightly in the air, leaving behind a remark that made the leader of the White Blade Guard turn pale:

"But in the Great Empire..."

"Northern Province".

Prince Xingchen ignored the two men with their interesting expressions and turned to leave.

----

"What are you looking at?"

On the streets of the Armored District, Miranda turned to Cohen and asked him a question.

“Nothing,” Cohen muttered, pulling his gaze away from the alley. “I just saw a really strange person in the alley, with two swords at their waist…”

"A sword?" Miranda's expression hardened. "Could it be our target? What does it look like?"

“He looks… no, I didn’t pay much attention just now,” Cohen scratched his head frantically, frowning deeply, “I can’t remember his face…”

Miranda sighed. "Be careful. Big Belt said some new faces have come here recently." Just like us.

The two turned a street corner and came to the front of a quiet butcher shop.

"Um... are you the owner here?" Cohen knocked on the large wooden window where the butcher shop was located and asked the busy Far Eastern man inside, "Mr. Gu...?"

The Far Eastern man chopping meat slowly raised his head.

Medium build, flat eyebrows and eyes, straight hair and black eyes, not much different from the Far Easterners in the stars—Cohen thought.

The man from the Far East glanced at the two men, then lowered his head again to prepare his meat.

Cohen paused for a moment, then continued, "Hey..."

But the Far Easterner spoke up directly, silencing him.

“One silver coin inside the city, two around the city, one more silver coin in the upper three districts, and one more silver coin for nobles and officials,” the butcher said expertly as he chopped a large bone on the chopping board. “Two more for counts and above, and two gold coins for dukes, kings, and even temples.”

"What?" Cohen looked confused.

Miranda looked thoughtfully at Gu's cutting board.

"The price of intelligence," Gu said without looking up, speaking in his distinctive northern accent, "is not negotiable."

"Huh?" Cohen frowned. "A silver coin?"

“If someone has caused trouble, you should mediate,” Gu ignored him and hung a piece of sliced ​​meat on a hook, speaking without hesitation: “It depends on who you’ve offended. For ordinary people, it’s nine silver coins; for Griveaux, one gold coin; for Urad, two; for merchants in Dragonwing Square, five; for soldiers, two; for nobles or officials, three; and for counts and above, there’s nothing I can do.”

“If you offend the temple or the king…” Gu wiped his hands, raised his gloomy eyes and glanced at the two of them: “Get lost, don’t bring bad luck with you.”

Cohen asked, his face full of doubt, "Why does the merchant want five? And why is it more expensive than what the nobles are asking for? You know..."

The next moment, Gu raised his right hand, stopping Cohen from speaking.

Then, the butcher silently extended his left hand, spreading it out flat upwards.

Cohen was stunned again.

Before Cohen could react or answer, Miranda reached out and snatched the money pouch from Cohen's waist.

“We want to ask about the recent events in this district, the fight between two groups of swordsmen here…” Under Cohen’s resentful gaze, Miranda smugly pulled out a Northland gold coin—a small metal disc engraved with Nekaru’s head and a dragon.

"That's the money I got from Caslan," Cohen rolled his eyes.

Miranda calmly released two fingers, and the gold coin fell into Gu's hand.

“Looks like a generous out-of-town customer,” Gu squinted, raised the gold coin in his hand, flicked the edge of the coin, and whistled: “If it’s just information… I can’t make change.”

"Consider the extra as a tip." Miranda's tone remained unchanged, her eyes sharp: "As long as it's good value for money."

tip?

Cohen stared wide-eyed at the gold coin, then at Miranda, his eyes filled with disbelief.
Can't you even do math, my lady?!
Gu chuckled, but her next words startled both of them: "No."

Miranda frowned: "What do you mean?"

"The information you're asking about, some kind of sword fight, I've never heard of that." Gu shook his head.
"For the sake of the gold coins, you can ask a different question."

Miranda turned her head to think deeply.

"Have any new, strange swordsmen been spotted around there?" Cohen pondered, recalling what he had just witnessed. "Oh, right, I think I saw a swordsman carrying two swords..."

Gu's eyes narrowed.

Two swords.

A strange swordsman.

He sighed softly to himself.

Could it be you?

"No, not at all," Gu calmly put away the gold coins, lowered his head and continued with his work. "Alright, the limit is used up, you can leave now."

Both of them were stunned.

The guard and the young lady exchanged a puzzled look.

Miranda's eyes were filled with anger, while Cohen shrugged.

Equivalent exchange... This principle doesn't work everywhere.

"You—" Miranda was about to speak when Cohen stopped her.

The blond guard exhaled and laughed heartily.

The next second, Cohen threw a punch, slamming it heavily against the window frame.

"Boom!"

Gu raised his head and looked at him with an unfriendly expression.

“I know that in many tense places, such as battlefields, whether it’s a bar or a shop, there’s a rule,” Cohen said, a smile playing on his lips as he looked at Gu, whose face was cold and indifferent, with genuine sincerity: “It’s called ‘Lesson One,’ right?”

Gu didn't speak, she just looked at him quietly.

“Newcomers and outsiders are always tricked the first time they arrive, lose some money, and learn a lesson.” Cohen tapped lightly on the window frame.

"At the same time, we should also test the newcomers' backgrounds. If they are strong and have powerful connections, they can come back to get revenge and shake hands to make peace; if they are weak," Cohen closed his eyes and nodded, "they will suffer in silence and be more polite next time."

Cohen tilted his head, leaned against the window, and smiled.

He imitated Gu's earlier gesture and whistled:

"Therefore, bosses generally need to have a good eye."

"Don't pick the wrong person."

Miranda smiled inwardly as she looked at Cohen's roguish, old-timer demeanor.

This idiot.

I've learned quite a bit on the western front.

"Oh," Gu squinted and curled the corners of his mouth, "So, is it your strength or your powerful backing?"

“Perhaps both?” Cohen sighed helplessly and drew the sword at his waist. “Since you’ve already taken the money…”

Gu Qing scoffed and shook her head: "I've already given you my answer."

“That’s not a satisfactory answer; it’s just a perfunctory response,” Miranda said coldly. “We don’t want to resort to force.”

Gu raised an eyebrow.

Judging from their actions, both of them are ruthless characters.

The man was probably a soldier, skilled in frontal assaults and battlefield tactics; the woman…

Strange, I can't tell.

The guys along the street aren't blind—thieves, beggars, swindlers—they probably wouldn't dare touch them.

however……

“Let me say it again, we’re looking for a group of strange swordsmen, around the super-rank,” Cohen smiled. “They’re connected to the black market for arms, ruthless, and perhaps slightly stronger than ordinary swordsmen.”

Gu took a breath and sighed softly.

A strange group of swordsmen?

Really.

I almost thought they were here to see you.

Black sword.

The next moment, in Miranda and Cohen's eyes, the Far Easterner wore a helpless smile.

“Urad knows more about black market transactions than I do, but as for the group you’re looking for…”

“Okay,” Gu said with a smile, calmly picking up the boning knife from the cutting board: “Here…”

"There are indeed a few strange people... bad tempers, keep them away..."

"Holding a sword, wielding the power of termination..."

Miranda and Cohen exchanged a glance.

(End of this chapter)