Kingdom Bloodline

Chapter 144 The Tragedy of Washing the Sword
In a back alley in the Armor District of Dragon Sky City, three old acquaintances finally drew their swords and began their battle.

Under the moonlight, Cohen painfully covered his innocently injured nose, watching the man and woman in front of him who started fighting at the slightest disagreement.

He knew that he had no room to intervene in this battle, which was of special significance—Miranda probably wouldn't let him do so either.

My own nose is proof.

Fortunately, compared to before, Miranda's hands are now able to control their strength.

Cohen turned his attention back to the battlefield and saw Miranda's sword strike first, the blade aimed directly at Raphael's chest!

Raphael's thin-bladed sword instantly appeared in his left hand, using offense as defense, and taking advantage of his slightly faster speed to slash straight at Miranda's throat.

But as if Miranda had anticipated her opponent's next move, the blade naturally changed direction, slicing precisely towards Raphael's left hand in a spinning motion—from a distance, it looked as if Raphael had offered his left hand to meet her blade.

Cohen secretly admired Miranda: This was an instinct that Miranda had developed through years of practicing "Pegasus Symphony," actively listening to and even controlling the rhythm of the battle, and manipulating the opponent's every move.

Raphael frowned, quickly drew his sword, and was forced to retreat.

He knew all too well how terrifying his former lover was, and tried to break free from her fighting rhythm as quickly as possible.

However, Miranda's gaze was icy, and she followed up with a sword strike at the opportune moment. As Raphael retracted his right leg, she slashed at his left leg, which was his center of gravity, interrupting his retreat to regain his footing.

Raphael was forced into a sorry state by this sword strike, and was compelled to stop his retreat and meet the attack head-on.

Just like before, Miranda, as if she had anticipated Raphael's movements, yanked her forearm out, and the wind howled!

Cohen, who was watching the game, narrowed his eyes.

For ten seconds, the blades of the two swords did not touch, clash, or engage in a single sword strike; they simply moved back and forth in mid-air, creating ripples in the air.

But Cohen knew this was an incredibly dangerous duel.

His mentor, Jedd. Tafner, once told Cohen, who was not yet a Vigilante at the time, that these silent and rapid combat scenes occurred more often during extreme battles.

The next moment, Cohen watched as Miranda's blade, at the most opportune moment, bypassed the opponent's obstruction, evasion, and counterattack, and instantly swung towards Raphael's head!
"hiss……"

The sound of a sword blade tearing through the air rang out.

In that instant, a different look flashed in Raphael's dark red eyes.

His left arm trembled slightly, visible to the naked eye, and then the thin-bladed sword danced in the moonlight, leaving afterimages!
"Ding!"

The two swords finally clashed for the first time, producing a sharp, ear-piercing vibration in the air!
Cohen frowned deeply, resisting the urge to cover his ears.

Raphael gritted his teeth and took three steps back!

Miranda stood still, her figure swaying slightly.

The field fell silent for a moment.

Miranda flicked her wrist expressionlessly, and a few strands of hair fell from the blade of her sword.

Raphael was slightly out of breath and touched his right forehead.

A bloody wound had appeared at his temple.

Cohen sighed, unsurprisingly.

really.

Miranda is still the strongest.

"When it comes to keen observation, seizing the right moment and rhythm in battle," Raphael rubbed the blood off his hands, shaking his head and sighing with a helpless smile:
"You're still amazing, Miranda."

Cohen coughed lightly, cautiously observing Miranda's expression: "So, Raphael, let's call it a day for our sparring... It's been so long..."

Miranda was unaware of Raphael's finishing power.

However, if they continue fighting, the observant Miranda...

The fighting must be stopped.

But at that moment, a voice that made both men tremble slightly came from the arena.

“Raphael…”

"Where is your 'Sword Washing Tragedy'?"

Cohen was slightly taken aback.

Raphael lowered his head.

Miranda's voice trembled slightly with disbelief: "That kind of offensive, defensive, and decisive finishing power..."

"For over a decade, you are the only one who has awakened the power of termination..."

"That kind of final power that can break the rhythmic monopoly of 'Pegasus Symphony'..."

"Why is he gone?"

Cohen closed his eyes in pain.

Oops.

She found out.

Miranda abruptly raised her head, her icy expression now tinged with disbelief and panic in the moonlight.

"This isn't the rhythm of 'The Tragedy of the Sword Washing Away,' nor is it even the rhythm of your usual swordsmanship!" the female swordsman said slowly. "Although my hands... I can feel that cold temperature, just now contained within your hands."

"It's another force..."

"what is that……"

"Raphael Lindbergh?"

Miranda's gaze was like two blades, piercing Raphael who remained silent.

Cohen slapped himself on the forehead in utter frustration.

The three remained silent for a few seconds until Raphael spoke in a gentle and relaxed manner.

“This is ‘The Prayer of the Dead,’ and to be honest, it’s not much different from ‘The Lament of the Sword Washing’,” the white-robed youth chuckled, his voice still light and cheerful. “Striving for a chance of survival by the smallest margin, pushing the pursuit of victory in the face of danger to its limit… the style is very similar—I thought you couldn’t feel it with your hands.”

"Just as 'Touch of Greed' is a version of 'Radiance of the Stars' with the Blade of Calamity," Miranda, her brow furrowed, asked with a hint of anxiety, "is the so-called 'Hymn of the Dead' also another version of 'Sword of Lament'?"

Her gaze, filled with an indescribable complexity, was fixed on Raphael:

"The kind of calamity sword—the power of violent annihilation?"

Cohen was truly stunned.

It seems that Miranda has gathered a considerable amount of information about the Sword of Calamity in just a short period of time.

As for himself… Cohen blushed as he thought of the young man who had run away.

“It seems that Clay has been talking to you too much,” Raphael said thoughtfully, narrowing his eyes. “Even though he’s an unruly outsider, he’s still a swordsman who’s close to the pinnacle. How could he talk so much?”

To their surprise, Miranda suddenly laughed.

Cohen was taken aback, while Raphael frowned.

"Is this why you kept it from me, Cohen?" Amid the laughter, Miranda, in her slightly hoarse voice, said to Cohen without turning her head, "Raphael Lindbergh, one of the candidates for the 'seed' of the End Tower, chosen every five years, the successor of the Extreme Realm."

"They actually hurled the sword of disaster?"

Cohen, who was being questioned, kept his eyes tightly shut.

Raphael remained silent.

The guard opened his mouth as if to speak, but hesitated, his mouth opening and closing repeatedly.

In the end, he lowered his head and turned his words into a sigh.

The next second, Miranda flashed forward, her sword striking out once more like a startled swan.

This time, her sword did not aim for Raphael's vital points, but instead went straight for the blade in Raphael's left hand!
Cohen looked puzzled—attacking the enemy's weapon was not a normal combat strategy.

But what surprised him even more was that Raphael, who had been smiling the whole time, suddenly changed his expression because of this seemingly harmless sword strike!
"clang!"

The two swords clashed a second time, but there was no follow-up—Miranda's sword retreated immediately upon contact.

Miranda stared intently at Raphael, oblivious to her surroundings. Raphael, on the other hand, looked at Miranda with a pale face, as if he had been struck in the most crucial spot.

Cohen scratched his head, looking at the arena in confusion: Strange, this sword clearly did no damage at all?
Why are these two people reacting so strangely?

Then, Miranda's voice drifted over.

"The reason why the Sorrow of the Sword Washing disappeared... is this?" Aaron's daughter's voice trembled slightly, unexpectedly: "Three years? Three years?"

"It's him?"

"That's the reason?"

"he?"

The young man in white, Raphael, stared blankly at Miranda.

The expression is complex.

Mira.

She still found out.

Our first meeting in three years.

She discovered it.

He lowered his eyes.

The next second, the female swordsman suddenly raised her head and shouted excitedly, "Raphael, you arrogant idiot!"

Raphael didn't speak, but simply looked at her calmly.

Cohen stared in shock at Miranda, who seemed to be losing control of her emotions.

This is……

what happened?
Just a moment ago she was a "strong and independent" career woman, how did she suddenly become a "heartbroken" ex-girlfriend?

The next moment, the female swordsman turned around and thrust her sword fiercely into the wall beside her!
"laugh!"

Raphael let out a long sigh.

With a gloomy expression, Miranda released her grip, letting the sword hilt tremble slightly in the air.

“He… I curse him…” Miranda turned her head, gritted her teeth, her expression filled with grief and indignation, and gave a cold, angry laugh:
"He deserves it!"

"Deserve it!"

The female swordsman roared.

Raphael gently sheathed his sword.

"Don't do this, Mira." The young man in white shook his head and said softly, "It's not worth it."

Cohen's mouth dropped open.

He was almost driven crazy by the situation before him.

What's going on between these two people?

They hit it for a while, and then stopped?

They started by crying and coaxing each other, trying to communicate in riddles?
The tragedy of washing away the sword? An arrogant idiot? Serves him right? Not worth it?

He—Cohen Karabyan, a second-level guard officer and city defense patrol captain of the West City Guard Hall of Yongxing City—was in a complete mess at this moment.

I just don't understand!

“I’m telling you,” Cohen said, scratching his head in anguish as he approached the two, “can anyone explain to me what’s going on? Miranda, even though Raphael has the Sword of Calamity on him… you don’t need to get so worked up…”

The next moment, Miranda and Raphael looked up at the same time, glaring and shouting angrily.

"Shut up, Cohen!" Miranda shouted angrily.

“Not now, Cohen!” This was Raphael, his face as cold as ice.

Cohen, who was interrupted by the two at the same time, opened his mouth halfway and stopped in mid-air.

He stared with innocent and bewildered eyes, raised his hands, smiled obsequiously, and took a step back while bowing and scraping.

Okay, you guys chat, you guys chat.

Completely oblivious to the situation, the guard silently thought to himself: Someone as intellectually challenged as me shouldn't participate.

Damn couple.

After Cohen's interruption, the three of them remained silent for a while.

Two of them were immersed in complex and subtle emotions, while the third sighed listlessly.

“So,” Miranda composed herself, lowered her head and sneered, “the tragedy of the Sword Washing is gone forever, isn’t it?”

Just like you?
Raphael understood what she meant.

He sighed softly, his eyes filled with complex emotions.

"The tragedy of the Sword Washing originated from the chaotic period of war in the Chronicle of Kings," the white-robed youth shook his head with a sigh, "A brave and loyal great knight was betrayed by the lord he served, and died and was disgraced."

"The great knight's son escaped the encirclement. He washed the blood from his father's sword by the river, vowing revenge," Raphael said calmly. "Many years later, he joined the enemy country and became a knight as well."

"After years of brutal warfare, with rivers of blood and corpses strewn across the battlefield, the new knights, leading the new king's army, finally stormed into the tyrant's castle and slew their enemies."

"But this did not bring him satisfaction. On the path where the fire of revenge burned, there was only emptiness and sorrow."

"When faced with a princess left behind by his enemy, and seeing the fear and hatred in her eyes, the knight softened and suddenly realized something." Raphael lowered his head, his eyes dim, and continued in a low voice, "'What's the point?' he said."

"Old grudges are avenged, new hatreds arise, the grudges between the kings are endless, death and hatred are two sides of the same coin, blooming together, tragedy never disappears, emptiness is bottomless."

Miranda listened quietly to Raphael's story, while Cohen scratched his head in frustration—he was utterly fed up with the two of them.

"Then, the knight carried the princess out of the castle, which was filled with blood and corpses, hatred and madness. The knight stood in the sunlight and wiped away the princess's tears of fear."

"There, the knight swore an oath to end this chaotic world that breeds hatred and death."

"From then on, his extraordinary power was called—the Tragedy of the Sword Washing".

The story of Raphael is finished.

Miranda stood silently in place.

“Ha,” Cohen chuckled dryly, trying to push the mission forward: “It sounds like a third-rate chivalric romance novel, a tragic background, noble birth, powerful enemies, slowly growing stronger, legs going weak at the sight of women, and then vowing to conquer the chaotic world…”

"Shut up, Cohen." This time, the man and woman interrupted Cohen with remarkably synchronized tone and speed.

Cohen shut up again, feeling wronged.

“Look,” Raphael turned to Miranda, a sullen smile on his face, “these things are nothing compared to a greater goal.”

"do you understand?"

Miranda looked at Raphael, her eyes filled with resentment and sorrow: "So, the Secret Service?"

Raphael twitched the corner of his mouth and nodded.

The two looked at each other silently.

It seems that only the other person can understand each other.

Until Miranda turned her gaze away with a sorrowful expression.

“I wasn’t joking just now. This concerns the future of both nations. Dragon City will not be peaceful tonight,” Raphael straightened his clothes, looked up at the distant Hall of Heroes under the moonlight, and put on a smile again: “In fact.”

"It's already started."

The next chapter will be in the afternoon, around five o'clock.

P.S. If you're as confused as Cohen in the article...

Don't panic.

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(End of this chapter)