Kingdom Bloodline

Chapter 133 Chase

Cohen and Miranda stepped onto the muddy, snowy ground.

In winter, compared to the refined and orderly cityscape of Yongxing City, the streets of Longxiao City appear casual and chaotic. The roads are sometimes straight and sometimes winding, and the road widths vary. The houses on both sides are irregularly stacked, with sharp icicles hanging from the eaves and snow constantly rolling off the signs. But Cohen felt that although the former was orderly, it always gave people a cold and serious feeling, while the latter, seemingly random and disorderly, had a kind of harmonious order hidden within it.

This feeling is especially noticeable when you see how the people of the North skillfully navigate the winding streets and alleys in their work and daily life.

The Armored Zone is a prime example.

Loud voices with northern accents echoed from afar in the cold weather, occasionally accompanied by hearty laughter and shouts. Northern men, bundled in thick winter clothes and carrying loads of goods, hurried back and forth, while women, carrying or holding baskets, would stop from time to time to chat with all sorts of people on both sides, their fierce and shrewish bargaining no less than that of the men, and groups of children ran happily in the streets.

This seemingly chaotic yet uniquely distinctive northern character made Cohen feel as if he had returned to the Great Desert, to the Western Front, to the Baki Dunes Camp, that chaotic place where soldiers, criminals, scum, thugs, outlaws, mercenaries, and adventurers gathered. It was equally mixed and disorderly, but without the latter's darkness, ferocity, and brutality. Instead, it had a brightness, a sense of security, and a shrewdness and peace amidst the noise.

Miranda Aarond, a northerner, could only frown slightly at this—as someone accustomed to the solemnity of the Tower of the End and the orderliness of the stars, the lifestyle of her northern compatriots made her feel particularly uncomfortable.

A group of soldiers from Longxiao City walked towards them on the street. The leader greeted the civilians around him from time to time.

“It’s the Order Officer,” Cohen whispered. “There aren’t many outsiders in the Armored District, and we’re already quite conspicuous. Let’s find a place to hide.”

Miranda nodded slightly, turned her heel, and together with Cohen, naturally and skillfully turned into a small alley between the two houses, cutting into these narrow areas to continue their search for their target.

His brief career as a guard gave the workaholic Cohen a wealth of experience in patrolling and searching the city. He moved skillfully along the outer walls of buildings, constantly looking for possible hiding places.

Miranda looked at the deserted alleyway before her, listening to the still noisy sounds of the street around her, and frowned, asking, "Where is the place Gu mentioned?"

“It should be nearby,” Cohen mused as he searched. “What we need to do is identify which of these houses has…”

At that moment, both of them were stunned.

Then they all turned their heads.

Suddenly, a person with a frivolous gait appeared in the alley where they were.

He slowly walked towards the two of them.

Cohen looked puzzled, while Miranda's pupils contracted.

This was a young northern man with a sorrowful face, dark skin, and wearing a dirty, tattered robe.

An ordinary poor man in Longxiao City.

The young man seemed to have encountered some setback or sadness. He walked towards them with his head down and his eyes vacant, as if he hadn't even seen them.

In the alley, Cohen and Miranda exchanged a glance, stepped aside, and made way for the ragged young poor man.

The latter passed between them.

In the instant he passed the two of them.

"Hey, You!"

Under Cohen's questioning gaze, Miranda suddenly turned around and called out to the man.

The young poor man was taken aback and turned around in confusion.

"Are we going to sneak around and kill someone?" Miranda asked slowly, her eyes narrowed.

"What? Kill what?" The young man's face showed even greater confusion.

Cohen frowned.

Miranda would never speak without reason.

“If it wasn’t for a clandestine assassination,” Miranda’s eyes gleamed, and she gestured with her chin and raised an eyebrow, “then why would you be so careful, hiding the sword at your waist under your clothes…”

"Still pretending to walk normally?"

The young man's expression froze.

Cohen's breath hitched.

He looked at the man's waist but couldn't find anything protruding to prove that the man had a weapon under his robes.

"I don't understand, what does it matter to you if I bring a sword..." the young man complained, looking confused and dissatisfied.

But he was quickly interrupted by Miranda.

“Stop pretending,” Miranda slowly placed her hand on the hilt of her sword, her expression turning serious. “In the place I’ve been for the past three years, I’ve dealt with a dozen spies, scouts, infiltrators, and smugglers crossing the border every day.”

The young man's previously unfocused gaze began to focus.

Cohen moved his feet in perfect unison, blocking the other side of the young man.

In this narrow alley, blocked from both sides, he had nowhere to escape.

"Do you know what these people have in common with you?" The daughter of the Aarond family shook her head sarcastically. "That is—they all think they are good at hiding things."

The young man slowly straightened up, his expression growing colder.

Miranda sighed, "I thought that as long as I kept a calm look in my eyes and a composed expression, no one would be able to detect their intentions."

Cohen chuckled softly.

Good heavens, Miranda's observation skills—she's definitely more suited to being a guard than he is.

With one more try, it's not impossible to go to the Kingdom's Secret Service.

Thinking of the Secret Service and Raphael, who was currently working there, Cohen's mood immediately sank again.

“Don’t be impulsive, sir,” Cohen said in a low voice, his hand resting on his sword hilt. “We just want to confirm one thing—it’s not appropriate to draw a sword in this alley.”

"What a pity," the young man sighed regretfully, "If only I had just one more second to get to the perfect spot..."

The battle began the next moment.

The young man's right elbow shot backward like an arrow, whistling through the air, and instantly struck Cohen's head!

Cohen's pupils twitched.

Instead of retreating, he advanced, raising his left hand and using his arm to deflect the opponent's elbow strike.

"Thump!" That was the dull sound of elbows striking each other.

Both of them trembled simultaneously, feeling a violent vibration in their hand bones.

The blond guard remained expressionless as he extended his right hand, ready to seize the opponent's elbow as it struck.

But the next second, the young man swung his right hand, which had been striking out, and pressed it against Cohen's left arm, giving it a hard push. Using the momentum of the latter's forward movement, he turned and rushed out!
The elbow strike was a feint—Cohen's eyes narrowed: the opponent's target was Miranda.

The young man's figure bounced toward Miranda.

At the same time, he kicked out with his right leg and attacked the black-haired female swordsman!

With a cold expression, Miranda instantly spun around, her back pressed against the wall.

Dodge the opponent's fierce attack.

But her left leg was already dangling in mid-air, so she lifted it up.

The next moment, Miranda casually tapped her toes on the ground.

But at just the right moment, he kicked the enemy's right leg as it hurtled towards him!

The young man looked surprised and instantly lost his balance.

He quickly braced himself against the wall with his left hand to steady himself.

But then he heard a whoosh of wind behind him—Cohen's heavy fist was already on his back.

The young man's muscles trembled, and he gritted his teeth and turned around.

"boom!"

Cohen's powerful punch and the young man's right palm collided in mid-air!

But Cohen was the one who took the initiative and clearly had the greater advantage. The young man who hastily took the punch trembled and took a step back.

On the other side, Miranda's hand chops were already aimed at his neck.

At the critical moment, the young man swiftly turned around on the spot, revealing a sword hilt with a brass-colored counterweight under his robe.

A surge of power erupted within the young man, instantly unleashing astonishing joint and muscle strength, allowing him to dodge Miranda's swift hand strike!

The next moment, a short, agile hand-and-a-half sword was drawn as the young man turned around, and slashed vertically down at Cohen in the narrow alley.

Cohen's sword was too long to be used effectively in the narrow alley, so the guard had no choice but to use the half-drawn blade to parry the opponent's vertical slash.

"clang!"

Cohen's expression changed.

A familiar, violent surge emanated from the opponent's sword.

Cohen instinctively unleashed his finishing power.

The brilliance of the stars immediately rose from the officer's body, repelling the violent power.

At the same time, Cohen's arm strength increased rapidly, and his longsword trembled violently, knocking away the opponent's sword.

The enemy seemed surprised by Cohen's calmness and decisiveness in the face of his power, but he did not hesitate when his first strike missed—Miranda's footsteps were already behind him.

The next second, the enemy leaped up, kicked twice on the walls on either side, flipped over Cohen's head, and landed before quickly disappearing into the distance.

He wants to escape!
Cohen gritted his teeth, turned around, and swung his right arm to shake off the stinging and numbness brought on by the penetrating force.

The officer immediately took off, giving chase to the other person!

"Is it him?!" Miranda also started running, closely following Cohen.

The fleeing young man made a sharp turn and entered another, deeper alley.

"I swear on my life!" Cohen followed the figure in front of him, but turned too sharply and crashed head-on into the wall.

But the physically strong guard ignored it and got up without hesitation to catch up, shouting urgently as he raced, "It's that kind of finishing power!"

"Don't forget the mission!" Miranda, her expression icy, leaped nimbly, grabbed a window sill at the corner with her right hand, and swung her body like a swing around the sharp bend.

She landed, rolled, got up, and ran off in one fluid motion, reminding her companions during the ongoing chase:

"Investigation, not combat! The order officers are still on patrol!"

In the narrow alley, a two-person-high earthen wall appeared in front of the fleeing young man.

But he seemed to have anticipated the terrain, and when he was still far away, he swiftly leaped up, first stepping on the left wall and then pushing off the right wall.

With a few powerful kicks, the young man leaped over the earthen wall like a spider.

Despite his height, Cohen was as fast as an elite scout, trailing behind the young man as he leaped up and grabbed the earthen wall with his upper arm.

With his face flushed red, Cohen suddenly exerted force in his upper arm muscles, like a terrifying black-headed giant ape, pulling himself over the earthen wall, flipping to the ground and chasing after it again!

"Watch out for a trap!" Miranda, who was right behind her, veered to the right of the narrow alley, a rhythmic power rising within her: "He's deliberately waiting for us there!"

Unlike the young people who use their left and right sides for leverage, she lightly stepped up six times on one side of the wall, tilting her body, maintaining her speed, and increasing her height step by step, finally skimming over the earthen wall as if walking on flat ground!
"Even if it's a trap, we'll still chase him!" Cohen frowned, gritting his teeth as the high-speed chase continued. He spoke sparingly, "As long as we intercept him before he gets there!"

"Give it to the back of the head! Safe, discreet, and efficient!"

The young man crouched low and rushed up three steps. After passing two astonished northern residents, he quickly turned into an empty alleyway.

Cohen rushed over, leaping up three steps in one stride. He rudely shoved aside two Northern residents while saying "sorry" and squeezed into the alleyway.

Damn... how can this kid run so fast?

"I'll hold him off!" Cohen shouted, feeling his strength waning. "You intercept him!"

Miranda, who already had a tacit understanding with Cohen, did not answer, nor did she follow him into the alley.

After she stepped onto the three steps, the power of the final move, known as "Pegasus Symphony," erupted from her body once more, causing her to leap into the air.

It's time to take a shortcut.

To the astonishment of the two northern residents, Miranda Teng deftly grabbed a protruding clothesline in mid-air, swung forward lightly, reached out and grabbed a window sill three stories high, and with the help of his legs pushing off, quickly flipped onto the roof!
Then, without stopping, she ran straight towards the two people who were chasing each other through the alley, taking the shortcut on the rooftop!
The young man swiftly darted out of an alley and into an open space between three houses, with Cohen following closely behind, gritting his teeth and running wildly.

At that moment, Miranda's figure leaped out into the air!

Miranda gripped the hilt of her sword with a resolute expression, knowing she would fall to the open ground, two meters in front of the young man.

A perfect interception.

But then the unexpected happened. In the instant he leaped off the roof, a chill ran through Miranda's entire body!
An extremely ominous sense of danger instantly enveloped her heart.

Without a second thought, Miranda drew her sword in an instant, turned around, reached out, and thrust it fiercely downwards and backwards!

The blade pierced the rooftop platform that Miranda had just leaped out from, abruptly halting her momentum.

In a second, the young man and Cohen disappeared into another alleyway.

Miranda hung from the sword hilt with one hand, her lower body swinging with inertia. When her feet reached the highest point, a sharp sword light slashed out from the side!
It barely grazed Miranda's boots.

Miranda was covered in a cold sweat.

Fortunately, I managed to stop the castration in time.

otherwise……

She watched the fierce sword light, which, after slicing through the air, landed on the open ground along with its master.

The owner of the sword light—a middle-aged man with short, neat hair—slowly rose from the open space.

Miranda placed one hand on the roof, drew her sword, and landed on the ground.

She looked at the middle-aged man in front of her with a somber expression.

She judged the strength of the enemy before her to be a master of the highest level or above.

“The Sword of Calamity.” Miranda stood up, catching her breath, and said calmly, “We’ve finally met.”

The middle-aged man did not answer.

He simply stared at Miranda with the same expression he had when he looked at a dead person.

"Is this a trap you set on purpose?" Miranda carefully observed her opponents, trying to find any usable information or intelligence. "But... why are there only two of you?"

"Are you that confident?"

The middle-aged man slowly shook his head.

"The Sword of Calamity? It's not the first time I've heard of it, but to be called that... it's really ironic."

He turned to the side, revealing the strange sword in his hand.

It should have been an ordinary longsword, but the spine of the blade was hollowed out, creating a hollow groove that extended from the center of the sword to the tip, occupying about one-third of the sword's length.

Miranda narrowed her eyes: It's common to carve grooves on swords—the grooves on swords aren't for bleeding, but simply to reduce weight, so they're carved from the hilt to the middle of the blade.

However, the middle-aged man's sword is different in two ways: First, his sword has a completely hollow groove carved out, which will undoubtedly greatly reduce the weight, but will also lead to a decrease in the quality of the sword body; second, the groove is carved out from the tip of the sword and ends in the middle of the sword, indicating that it is very likely that it was forged as a blood groove for the purpose of bleeding.

To achieve these two points, the swordsmith must also possess extremely high forging skills—Miranda believed that he could only find such a superb swordsmith among the Tower of the End and among the elves and dwarves.

"You're quite impressive," the middle-aged man said in a detached, hoarse voice. "You actually managed to find your way all the way from the Star Kingdom to here."

"It seems the Tower of the End has also improved."

Do they know we are Star People?

Miranda keenly sensed that something was amiss.

How were we exposed?
Is it really as Kaslan said, that our origins are completely exposed to experts?

"So, what are you doing here, becoming the lackeys of some Grand Duke Exter?" Miranda wasn't in a hurry to draw her sword, but instead tried to continue gathering intelligence—this was the most important principle a commander should adhere to, as instructed by the Fortress Flower: know yourself and know your enemy.

"You actually went to assassinate the Prince of the Stars for them? What benefit would that bring you?" Miranda continued to probe, "Besides taking control of the Tower of the End, what is your goal? The throne of Exter? The throne of the Stars? Or a war between the two?"

"Our objective?" The middle-aged man's expression remained indifferent and calm: "The throne, war?"

His words revealed disdain and coldness: "Such short-sighted goals are not worthy of our attention."

"Even taking over the Tower of the End was just a simple matter of us doing what was in the way."

Miranda frowned deeply.

It wasn't for the throne, nor for the war... so what were they after, lurking in the Black Sand Territory and using magic-powered spears to assassinate the Star Prince?

It can't be for the sake of justice!

“It seems you’ve been entrenched here for quite some time,” Miranda thought with a sinking feeling, and decided to try a different approach: “You’ve even managed to infiltrate the black market for weapons in Dragon Sky City and the magic-powered gun units in Black Sand Territory.”

"Since we've already been exposed, why not use a few to deal with us?"

“A magic gun?” The middle-aged man lightly raised his sword, completely ignoring Miranda’s words: “As a swordsman, you’d better focus on your own sword… no matter how powerful those other weapons are.”

Miranda let out a breath.

Damn.

Watertight.

“Draw your swords. We share the same origin, yet we are destined to be enemies,” the middle-aged man said calmly. “We have five minutes to end this battle before the order officers and soldiers arrive.”

It seems we won't get any more information.

Miranda took a deep breath, rotated her wrist, lowered her body, and carefully assumed the starting stance.

unless.

Capture him alive.

or.

kill him.

The two slowly approached, and Miranda unleashed her senses, as Pegasus Melody slowly rose.

Try to feel the opponent's fighting rhythm—just like in countless previous battles, Miranda told herself this again this time.

However, in the next second.

The sword flashed!

Miranda's pupils dilated instantly!

"Wow!"

There was no rhythm at all for her to feel.

because……

To Miranda's astonishment, the middle-aged man's sword instantly traversed five steps!
Before she could react.

It then pierced her left breast.

----

Cohen, in his pursuit, rounded a bend in the wall, only to find that the young man had stopped in the alley ahead, no longer running.

The guard took a step, bracing himself against the ground, and came to a sudden stop.

Cohen gripped the hilt of his sword and regulated his breathing.

"It seems," a smile appeared on the young man's face, "that the swordsmen of the Tower of the End aren't all that great after all..."

Miranda did not come along.

Cohen felt a chill run down his spine.

Was she intercepted?

Cohen took a deep breath and quickly calmed down.

They've been separated into two battlefields.

“So,” Cohen looked at the composed young man with a serious expression, “you knew in advance that we were coming?”

A genuine, high-end product.

And... so young.

“Of course,” the young man chuckled and shook his head contentedly, “Otherwise, do you think you could have found us on your own?”

"We simply wanted to be found by you, that's all."

Cohen frowned.

He reached for the hilt of his sword: "Gu, that Far Easterner betrayed us?"

Oh no, this damn alley is so narrow.

Using a sword is at a disadvantage.

“No, we paid him enough money beforehand,” the young man slowly drew his half-sword, which he had nimbly wielded in the alley. “It was agreed that if anyone inquired about our existence…”

The young man shrugged, giving him a knowing look.

“Oh?” Cohen’s gaze remained fixed on the other man’s shoulders and legs. His tone was calm and his words were measured. “We paid him too.”

“Really? That must be the tip you gave me,” the young man grinned, took a step forward, and held his sword halfway up to the ground. “Not enough.”

Cohen sneered and also assumed a starting stance.

The terrain is too narrow, making both horizontal and diagonal slashes disadvantageous.

It seems I'll have to revisit the swordsmanship that Kuradel, one of the inheritors, taught me a long time ago.

Hopefully, he hasn't forgotten everything.

"So, in the last forty years," the young man chuckled, drawing ever closer, "this is the first time we've had contact between the traditions of those inside and outside the tower?"

“The Tower of Ending and the Sword of Calamity? Of course not,” Cohen carefully recalled the battles he had fought, remembering the red and black swordsman in Red Street, and calmly retorted, “A month or two ago, I also saw one of your companions in Starry Sky… He and I are the real recipients of this honor.”

The young man's eyes hardened, his smile vanished, and he stopped in his tracks.

"So you're the one who killed Groudon," he said calmly.

“Not entirely,” Cohen said, moving his feet carefully. “I only deserve half the credit… maybe even less.”

Their eyes met in mid-air.

"Do you know?" The young man took a step to the left and said meaningfully, "The Tower of the End is the rightful successor of the Knights' Temple. It was the most dazzling and noble existence in the War of the End, apart from a few heroes, fighting for the survival of humanity. After the war, in order to prevent the magic masters from making a comeback one day, it has worked diligently and painstakingly for hundreds of years to maintain the inheritance and development of the power of the End."

"You want to tell me the history of the Tower of Endings?" Cohen sneered. "Based on you bunch of traitors to the Tower of Endings?"

"Betrayal?" The young man shook his head and sneered.

"Do you know how we defeated the magic masters back then?" His gaze towards Cohen grew increasingly sharp: "Those legendary beings that never die, never age, never weaken, and never perish?"

“They are immortal, but they have a major weakness: a weakness that even a mage cannot withstand with a light blow.” Cohen gradually found the best position to strike.

"And the warriors wielding legendary anti-magic weapons, paving the way with the power of termination that can resist magic energy, with a will to die..." Cohen's expression was calm and unwavering: "Ordinary people may not know, but we in the Tower of Termination know it very well."

"Legendary anti-magic weaponry? The power to resist the end of magic energy? Haha..." The young man laughed, then his face suddenly turned cold: "No, you don't know."

"You live in the shameless lies of the Tower of Ending—ordinary power of ending can't resist magical energy at all," the young man said solemnly. "And legendary anti-magic weapons? Do you think we relied on anything to resist, anything to survive, before they were invented, when faced with such an immortal being?"

"Hmph," Cohen's gaze sharpened even more. He paid no attention to the other party's words and instead focused on locking onto every flaw in the enemy: "The last calamity sword we encountered didn't talk as much nonsense as you."

The next moment, the young man moved his feet and thrust out half of his sword!

That violent force of termination erupted from the young man's body, and the blade of his half-sword flashed instantly!
He couldn't even sense where the sword was pointing—Cohen gritted his teeth.

Is the opponent's finishing move a change in the sword path, an obscuring of perception, or an increase in sword speed?
Oops!

"Ding!"

In the end, Cohen relied on his battlefield instincts and intuition to stop the sword.

The sword was pressed against Cohen's sword, only two inches from his throat.

But what's even more terrifying is the opponent's finishing power.

Compared to the swordsman on Red Street, this young man's finishing power was as violent as ever, but it also had an unbearable, bone-chilling pain.

The sword and arm were attacking Cohen!

It left him with no way to cope.

(End of this chapter)