Kingdom Bloodline

Chapter 188 It’s you
As dawn broke, "Meteorite" Nikolai helped the heavily wounded veteran Griveo stand amidst the ruins of the Shield District.

He remained expressionless as he watched the people approaching—more than a dozen patrol teams of fully armed soldiers.

"What's wrong?" Griveo asked the Meteorite impatiently. "It's just a patrol."

“Nothing,” Nicolai’s sharp gaze swept over the patrol in front of him, his pupils narrowing slightly. “It’s just a little strange.”

Griveaux frowned. "Strange?"

“Yes, it’s His Majesty’s order,” the Meteorite said doubtfully. “Logically speaking, apart from the White Blade Guard, no army is allowed to approach the Shield Zone…”

Just then, a deep male voice rang out from the patrol team:

"Is this Lord Nicolai?"

The soldiers carrying torches parted to make way for the two men, and a middle-aged man dressed in thick, ornate winter clothes with eight braids in his hair appeared before them, his hand on the long sword at his waist.

Upon seeing the middle-aged man, Griveaux, who was being supported, was slightly startled:
"Urad?"

Griveaux's eyes widened in surprise: "It's you?"

Nikolai's heart skipped a beat.

Urad?
He is the order officer in charge of the Sword District market, and also a powerful figure in the underground forces of Dragon Sky City, comparable to Griveo.

The person in charge of the underground black market in Dragon Sky City.

Just why...

“I am Serrey Nikolai, commander of the White Blade Guard,” Nikolai said calmly. “Has His Majesty ordered the lifting of martial law?”

But before the other party could reply, a beam of red fire suddenly rose into the sky in the distance!
Nikolai was startled!
“Wait, I recognize this,” Grivell said thoughtfully, looking at the fireworks in the sky. “Fourteen years ago, on the battlefield in the deep valley, when Prince Suliel’s troops were caught by the White Elves, you also fired a shot…”

Nikolai's face was very pale.

Of course, because that is...

That is……

The signal crossbow bolts of the White Blade Guard.

The highest level of emergency assistance!
Just as the Meteorite was about to speak, the man leading the patrol spoke first.

"As you can see!"

"His Majesty has not yet ordered the lifting of martial law, but we have no choice but to come against the order."

The man with eight braids—Urad—looked terrible. He hurriedly bowed to Nikolai and said anxiously, "Please come with me as soon as possible. We need to get to His Majesty the King's side immediately!"

Nikolai's expression changed: "What happened?"

Griveo narrowed his eyes with a serious expression. As a fellow underworld boss, he knew Urad better than Nikolai:
“Urad, you…” the lame old soldier asked calmly, “Did you learn something from your sources?”

Urad nodded, exhaled, and said with a grim expression:
"Just received an underground message..."

"We have reason to believe that tonight, some enemies have taken advantage of the chaos to infiltrate Dragon Sky City!"

Nikolai was startled and exchanged a glance with Griveaux.

Urad looked anxious, and then heard the man with the braid say nervously:
"They...are trying to assassinate His Majesty!"

----

Thales held tightly to the terrified little rascal, his lips trembling.

For several minutes, he blinked frantically, staring at the aged body before him, wondering if what he was seeing was real.

That horrible old man.

Exter, a man embodying boldness, magnanimity, majesty, ruthlessness, and cunning, was chosen as king...

King Noon Walton VII, the "Born King".

Just die?
Thales stood there, stunned, watching the White Blade Guard soldiers trembling as they covered the king's body.

Red fireworks rose overhead.

"The emergency signal has been sent," the veteran melee guard who had just recognized the assassin said hoarsely. He lowered his crossbow, which was pointing towards the sky, and looked at the old king's decapitated body with a ashen face. "The boss and the other melee brothers will be here soon, soon..."

He choked up and couldn't say anything more, so he turned his head away, not daring to look at the king lying on the ground.

“Close combat, the shame of close combat,” another young soldier, clutching his wound and kneeling before the body of a fallen comrade, sobbed through gritted teeth, “His Majesty… right under our noses… we are all incompetent sinners… sinners…”

"It's not over yet!" A guard on the other side gripped his white-handled scimitar tightly, his eyes blazing with anger, resentment, and hatred. "We still have a mission... His Majesty's bloodline needs our protection... After this..."

Under the gaze of more than a dozen guards with blades, the little rascal bit his lower lip hard, letting out a pale sob.

"Who is that?"

Thales stared at the dagger on the ground, still stained with the king's undried blood, and asked in a daze, "That assassin?"

The warriors' gazes all turned to Prince Star, many of them filled with indignation and reproach.

“You should know him better than we do,” the senior guard replied in a low voice to Thales. “He’s Little Saridon from ‘The Flower of Assassins’.”

"Baannette, known as 'Locust Blade'."

Thales subtly touched the JC dagger at his waist.

The veteran guard glanced at Thales meaningfully: "Twelve years ago, his brother killed another king, whose surname was Canxing."

Thales instinctively took a deep breath.

A few minutes later, after firing the signal crossbow bolt, they finally received their rescue.

The sound of synchronized footsteps rang out, and countless soldiers came before them.

That was a patrol team from Longxiao City—two or three hundred people in total.

Thales raised an eyebrow.

Somewhat strange.

The guards with their blades all frowned as they looked at the soldiers who had approached them.

"Why is it a patrol team?!"

The veteran melee guard barked at the soldiers before him, "Where is the melee guard?"

“Sir, we saw your signal and rushed over,” a patrolling soldier who looked like an order officer said worriedly. “We didn’t encounter anyone else on the way—what happened? Is there anything we can do to help?”

The veteran melee guard exchanged a glance with one of his companions and said slowly, "His Majesty is injured and needs medical treatment."

Thales was startled and turned to look at the body of King Nunn, who was tightly surrounded by the White Blade Guard.

what?
Could it be that……

"What? Where is His Majesty? Is he alright?" The order officer's expression changed. "Sir... please come with us immediately. We can escort you back to Valhalla."

He waved his hand, and immediately patrol soldiers approached from both sides.

however.

"Whoosh!" "Clang!" "Bang!"

The dozen or so guards with fierce expressions drew their swords simultaneously without warning or hesitation!

The blade was pointed directly at all the patrol members who tried to approach, its imposing presence was astonishing.

Their movements were so swift and precise, as if they were performed by a single person.

The little rascal shuddered and looked at Thales with surprise and suspicion.

Thales pressed her hand back without making a sound.

calm.

He gestured with his eyes.

"Sir?" The patrol officer looked astonished, completely bewildered. "What are you doing...?"

The senior guard interrupted him.

“If we actually agree to your escort and go to join your ranks,” the White Blade Guard soldier said coldly, “we’ll probably be surrounded.”

The order officer was taken aback: "Sir, I don't understand..."

“Before joining the White Blade Guard, I also worked in the patrol team of Dragon Sky City for a period of time,” the White Blade Guard said coldly during the negotiation. “Later, I offended Urad and was forced to answer the call to the front line as a conscript. I fought a great battle and was finally selected by Kaslan.”

The order officer frowned.

The veteran melee guard stared at the patrol team that was subtly arrayed before him, his gaze sweeping over their hands that were always resting on their weapons. Meeting their calm, unwavering eyes, his expression hardened: "How come I don't remember our patrol team becoming so elite, strong, and excellent?"

Upon hearing this, Thales was startled.

So to say……

The way he looked at the patrol teams was different now.

The order officer pursed his lips, seemingly deep in thought about what the other person had said.

Another soldier from the White Blade Guard nodded and said solemnly, "It's clear that the elite troops are comparable to the regular army that trains three times a year—you are not soldiers from the vicinity of Dragon Sky City!"

The order officer suddenly smiled.

“My lord, this is Dragon Sky City. The quality of the recruits here is among the best in the Western Continent.” He shook his head.

"Please do not doubt our strength because of past experiences," the order officer spread his hands, his face full of helplessness and anxiety. "Besides, do you think an outside army could come to Dragon Sky City without anyone noticing?"

Upon hearing this, Thales paused for a few seconds.

It seems like something... slipped through?
The next moment, his whole body trembled violently!
The White Blade Guards exchanged glances, and the veteran spoke slowly: "In any case, we must wait for our White Blade Guard colleagues to arrive."

"Forgive my frankness, but on my way here I saw quite a few corpses of the White Blade Guards. I'm afraid they won't be able to arrive in formation," the Order Officer sighed, amidst the astonished gazes of the White Blade Guards. "If His Majesty's injuries cannot be delayed—we can merely escort him from the perimeter, without approaching you..."

"No!"

A child's innocent voice rang out.

Everyone's eyes flickered, turning their gaze to the boy who had spoken.

All that could be seen was the prince of the stars, Thales, clenching his fist.

Thales was panting heavily when, in that instant, it was as if a string had suddenly been struck in his mind.

He figured something out.

"Don't trust them!" Thales gritted his teeth, his voice trembling as he spoke under the sly, strange gaze of the little imp.
“There is indeed a group of elite foreign troops stationed near Longxiao City.”

The guards frowned.

Thales calmed his breathing, thought things through, and tried to speak steadily:
"A group of elite standing troops who can come to Dragon Sky City openly and legitimately..."

"You are that army."

The order officer frowned again and looked at the prince who had spoken.

At that moment, a loud round of applause rang out from the crowd.

----

Two blocks away, several people from the stars were in a tense standoff.

Wyatt, the second prince's attendant, struggled to wield his single-edged sword against Miranda's longsword.

Wyatt looked to the other side, trembling: Rolf, with a broken arm, had been easily defeated by Vigilante Cohen.

The prince's attendant shouted, "Don't kill him! We mean no harm!"

“No malicious intent?” Across from Wyman, Miranda, sword in one hand, firmly suppressed the attendant, her eyes sharp: “You attacked first!”

"I don't know why either!" Wyatt shouted anxiously, "But Rolf... this superhuman is Prince Thales's man!"

“Thales? You mean His Highness’s man?” Cohen’s face was solemn and serious. He held a sword in one hand and Rolf in the other, and shook his head as he looked at Rolf’s grief-stricken eyes. “This gangster thug?”

“That’s right!” Wyman nervously protested, “We’re both from the Star Envoy, Miss Miranda, we’ve met in Dragonbreaker Fortress, haven’t we!”

Cohen raised an eyebrow and turned to his female companion.

“I know you are the son of Count Gilbert Cassel and a page to the prince,” Miranda said calmly.

"But why are you here? In the most dangerous place in Dragonsreaching City?" Miranda looked at the surrounding ruins with clear eyes, then at Wyah and Rolf, her expression full of suspicion: "Instead of being in Valhalla, on this night of calamity, by the prince's side?"

"Isn't that a bit too suspicious?"

Wyatt gritted his teeth, feeling as if his opponent's sword was pressing down on the most difficult part of his own sword, causing him immense discomfort.

The prince has disappeared in the capital of an enemy country...

This kind of thing...

"I have no obligation to answer you!"

The attendant stubbornly shook his head: "The prince has faced many dangers on his journey to Exter, and you two—two highly skilled, sensitive, and feuding noble heirs—have inexplicably appeared here—aren't you even more suspicious!"

“Suspicious?” Cohen scoffed.

"Then how do you explain this?" He grabbed Rolf by the collar, completely ignoring the other's hateful eyes, and said coldly, "I remember his nickname—the Ghost of the Wind, a scumbag from the Blood Bottle Gang, who was killing people on the streets of Everstar City just a few dozen days ago. Why did he suddenly become a close attendant to the prince?"

Wyman was speechless.

“Don’t try to fool me,” Cohen said, frowning as he adopted the demeanor of a vigilante. “You should know that I’m the one who crushed his throat!”

Rolf's eyes blazed with fury as he felt his numb arm and spat out a mouthful of saliva.

No.

You are not...

Not this green skin!

But it was that woman...

That woman from the Surreyton family, the one with the twin swords!
Wyman felt a splitting headache: "How am I supposed to know what that bastard did in the past!"

He stepped forward, sword at his sides, and roared, "But he's my comrade now!"

Cohen and Miranda exchanged a glance.

Wyatt braced himself against Miranda's sword, yet somehow felt an illusion that he was not strong enough to withstand her attack.

Damn.

She had every move and technique completely under her control!

Miranda Aarond, the top seed from last year's tournament—is she really as freakish as the legends say?
Wyman gritted his teeth, a surge of finishing power coursed through his arms, causing a slight stinging sensation as he moved his longsword to desperately parry Miranda's attack.

The female swordsman wielded her sword with one hand, skillfully twisting the blade to deflect the opponent's force.

This time, it was Miranda's turn to have a change of expression!
This is……

She gritted her teeth slightly.

"Your swordsmanship is excellent, and your intuition is superb."

“It should be more suitable for a finishing power like the Sword of Despair,” Miranda stepped back, her eyes narrowing slightly, “but your current finishing power can cause your opponent pain during the battle…”

“Wyatt Cassel,” Miss Arendt said, her face filled with wariness, “this strange power of annihilation—what is your relationship with the Sword of Calamity?”

This caused even Cohen's expression to change drastically!
Wyman was taken aback.

"A strange power of termination?" Wyman shook his head in confusion. "What I learned was 'The Edge of No Return' taught by Teacher Shatil! It was her..."

“Shut up,” Miranda said, her face icy cold.

“Daphne Shatil, one of the eight Extreme Realm Inheritors of the Tower of the End, is my teacher!”

The female swordsman flung her longsword aside and tucked her ponytail into her collar—Cohen knew this was a sign she was about to get serious—and said solemnly, “And I’ve never heard of any ‘No Returning Edge’ from her!”

Wyman's expression changed.

“This is the recently developed power of termination… You’ve all graduated three or four years ago…” he said anxiously.

But the blond-haired guard interrupted him: "Recently developed? I'm afraid this is the power of the Sword of Calamity!"

Wyatt frowned deeply: These stubborn guys!
Cohen's eyes were terrifying. He said seriously, "Could it be... that you were also part of their plan to assassinate the prince, an inside man? The prince's attendant?"

Wyman felt like his head was about to explode.

“I’ll say it again, Rolf and I both bear the heavy responsibility entrusted to us by His Highness Thales, and what you are doing right now,” Wyatt, his mind in turmoil, struck a new stance, his voice filled with rage, “is a betrayal of the stars!”

"A heavy responsibility entrusted to a seven-year-old child?"

“Although I know that our prince is very intelligent,” Cohen said coldly, “there is a limit to how much lies can be told.”

He unleashed a torrent of power in his left hand, slamming the powerless Rolf away!
"Bang!" The Ghost of the Wind crashed into the ruins, raising a cloud of dust.

Rolf remained motionless, as if he had lost consciousness.

“You—” Wyman shouted angrily.

But Miranda's sword was already hurtling towards him in a flash!

"clang!"

The woman's longsword struck Wya's hilt precisely, causing the still-healing wound to stagger back two steps with difficulty.

“State your mission—or your connection to the Sword of Calamity—and what you intend to do to the prince, Attendant Caso,” Miranda said bluntly.

Wyatt, supporting himself with one hand on the ground, watched Rolf disappear into the ruins, no longer uttering a sound, and roared in grief and anger:

"Damn it, you've got it wrong from the start—I'm not the Sword of Calamity at all! And I haven't done anything to harm the prince!"

Wyman was breathing heavily, clutching his shoulder tightly—the wound torn open by the vampires was reopening.

Miranda's expression changed slightly upon hearing this.

Cohen's brow furrowed, and he strode towards Wyman: "We've encountered your companions in Dragonsky City... a little probing is all it takes..."

But the guard had only taken two steps when Miranda suddenly reached out and stopped him!
“Miranda?” Cohen looked at his companion’s actions in astonishment: “How could you…”

"Wait!" Miranda's face turned pale, as if she had thought of something.

The female swordsman's expression changed several times.

A few seconds later, Miranda shuddered!
Cohen looked at his companion with concern: "Miranda?"

“Cohen,” Miranda’s breathing quickened, her brows furrowed as she looked at Wyah, who lay on the ground, glaring angrily, “what he just said…”

“From Prince Thales’ assassination attempt in front of the fortress, to the rumors in Dragon City, the information Gu sold us, the reactions of the two Swords of Calamity, and Raphael’s words… when all these clues are connected, I suddenly understand…”

Cohen narrowed his eyes in confusion: "What? What have you figured out?"

Miranda stared intently at Wyah, whose face was contorted with rage, and spoke with difficulty, "What he just said reminded me—he's not some sword of calamity, nor has he harmed the prince... If it's true..."

"What do you mean?" Cohen scratched his head. "You mean, what this kid said is true?"

“It’s not just this kid,” Miranda’s speech quickened uncontrollably, and Cohen could clearly hear the tension in her voice, “it’s everything in Dragon City!”

Wyman looked at the two Star Nobles' relatives in front of him with a puzzled expression.

The female swordsman's face was unusually solemn: "The Sword of Calamity exposed itself by assassinating the prince, so we have come to investigate..."

Her voice began to tremble: "But, if Dragon Sky City didn't actually have the Sword of Calamity, and the Sword of Calamity never harmed the prince..."

“What are you talking about?” Cohen shook his head, interrupting her. “We saw them, the master and apprentice in the alley—the power of termination doesn’t lie.”

“No, you don’t understand! What we’ve seen is the real Sword of Calamity,” Miranda gripped the sword tighter and tighter, her face growing paler, “but it’s not the Sword of Calamity we were looking for in the first place!”

"The Sword of Calamity we were looking for in the first place?" Cohen's expression turned thoughtful. "You mean..."

"Think about it, what could have prompted Tari to entrust us with finding the Sword of Calamity?" Miranda turned her head and stared intently at Cohen.

"What happened?" Cohen narrowed his eyes, recalling past events: "When Chloeshe was investigating the truth behind the prince's assassination, she was ambushed by the Sword of Calamity and had her right hand crippled..."

Just now.

Miranda and Cohen's expressions changed drastically at the same time. They turned around as fast as they could, back to back, and looked around.

Someone is approaching!

Using his sword for support, Wyman felt the relentless feedback from the Unreturning Edge and said with difficulty, "There's killing intent from all sides—we're surrounded!"

The sound of neat, powerful, and unhurried footsteps rang out.

One by one, fierce and sturdy figures emerged from behind the ruins.

Soon, Miranda and Cohen, their faces grim, watched as squads of soldiers dressed as Dragonstreet patrols poured into the small ruins from all sides.

More than a hundred people surrounded them completely.

Wyatt stared in astonishment at the cold-faced, fully armed soldiers, their menacing expressions filling him with apprehension.

When were they...?

“They’re all skilled, they’ve killed and seen blood, and they don’t have any good intentions,” Miranda said softly, glancing at the soldiers’ cold eyes.

"Why are we completely unaware?" Cohen looked heavily at the hundred-plus elite soldiers, his sword raised warily.

“First, we’ve wasted all our energy fighting these two,” Miranda replied calmly. “Second, these people are elites, not ordinary patrols.”

The soldiers who had surrounded them slowly began to move, parting to make way for one person.

“Third,” Miranda stared at the figure slowly emerging from the crowd, her face colder than ever before, “their commander, regarding us—whether it's the concealment techniques of the End Tower, our personal habits, or our whereabouts these past few days…”

"They are all too familiar."

The figure emerged from the crowd and stood at the very front of the line.

Wyman stared at the newcomer, puzzled.

Miranda lowered her gaze and let out a deep sigh.

In the light of the sunrise, Cohen could see the person who had come before him—a swordsman dressed in gray armor with a sword at his waist.

He stared in shock, his mouth agape and his eyes wide.

Cohen blinked incredulously.

That is……

They had only met recently...

"K...Kroesi?"

Cohen was astonished. He recognized the female swordsman who was a seeded player from the same class in the Tower of Endings.

“Shouldn’t you be…” The guard’s sword trembled, his gaze involuntarily falling on the short-haired female swordsman’s right hand.

His words trailed off.

That right hand.

Kroeshe's swordsmanship, which should have been crippled by the Blade of Calamity, was still tightly wrapped in bandages just a day ago.

At this moment, however, he held it firmly to the sword at his waist.

He skillfully manipulated his fingers.

"So this is the truth?" Miranda looked at the calm-faced Chloesie, her voice filled with deep weariness and disappointment.

But the new girl, Chloesie, had no intention of catching up with them.

She simply stared coldly at her two contemporaries, as if they had never met.

"In the name of Exter!" Kroesh shouted.

Cohen and Miranda both tensed up.

coming.

The truth of the matter.

At the same time as their final battle, the female swordsman Chloesie Mailke, who should have been lying in bed, gently smoothed her short hair and gripped the hilt of her sword at her waist with a cold expression:

“Miranda Aarond, Cohen Karabyan,” Kroesh said, his expression shifting from the dejected and hopeless look of the day before. His sharp, shrewd eyes fixed on his two colleagues, and he spoke coldly and without hesitation:

"Because they are suspected of secretly infiltrating Dragon Sky City..."

Cohen and Miranda felt a chill run down their spines.

The girl in military uniform continued, "They conspired with the Starry Sky Envoy to harm Duke Conkley Peffert of Beacon City..."

Wyman's expression changed drastically in an instant.

"And the assassination of the Co-op King, His Majesty Nunn Walton..."

The three Star People in the arena were all shocked!
what?
Chloesch's emotionless words continued:
"A conspiracy to stage a coup in Exeter..."

"You're under arrest!"

After Kroesi finished speaking, she stared at them coldly.

With each point she made, Cohen and Miranda grew paler.

Wyman bit his lip tightly.

Miranda watched quietly as her classmates, who were training under the same teacher, looked at her with a complicated expression.

Cohen stared wide-eyed, shaking his head repeatedly, seemingly unable to believe what he was seeing.

"Put down your weapons and surrender," Chloesh, standing before over a hundred soldiers, said coldly, her expression unchanged, as she deftly drew her sword.

"Those who resist will die."

----

"As expected of the elite White Blade Guard, one in a thousand," amidst applause, a rugged middle-aged nobleman in full military uniform parted the crowd and stood before Thales and the White Blade Guard. "So astute and vigilant, they truly deserve the title of Dragon Guard."

The guards with white blades frowned, exchanging surprised and suspicious glances.

But no one could match the sheer awe caused by the Star Prince.

"you."

Thales tried his best to control his breathing.

He raised his eyes and looked directly at the man standing in the crowd.

That person who was both a stranger and a familiar face.

My feelings are complex and subtle.

This result was both unexpected and undeniable.

"It's you."

Thales took a deep breath and unconsciously tightened his grip on the little rascal's hand.

The girl looked at him with concern.

"It was you who, from the very beginning, deliberately used the pretext of escorting me to transport the army to the vicinity of Longxiao City."

"He himself secretly infiltrated and hid in the shadows."

Thales felt his throat go dry and hoarse, and he managed to say with difficulty:

"This is the moment we've been waiting for."

The rugged nobleman opposite him let out a disdainful sneer, but his cold face remained completely expressionless.

“And just now, the one who hired the assassin,” Thales turned around with a chill running down his spine, looked at the long-dead King Nunn, and said with difficulty, closing his eyes, “was it you too?”

The guards' breathing gradually became heavier.

The other person remained silent, pressing his hand on a worn-out old sword sheath at his waist, without saying a word.

"Is it."

Thales opened his eyes and stared intently at the person in front of him.

The other party remained silent.

Until the Star Prince took a deep breath, and amidst the chaos and pain, uttered the other's name, word by word:
"Your Excellency the Grand Duke of Black Sands..."

"Lord Chaman Lumba?"

The rugged, military-clad nobleman, Grand Duke Lombard, shifted his gaze, casting a sharp look directly at Thales.

Thales felt an icy chill in his heart.

A silence.

The eyes of the guards were filled with anger and hatred.

The eyes of the Black Sand Army were filled with indifference and murderous intent.

Until the deep, resonant voice of the rugged middle-aged nobleman, Chaman Lumbar, rang out like muffled thunder.

“What a pity,” the Black Sand Duke said coldly, raising an eyebrow. “How could the great, born king, His Majesty Nunn Walton, have passed away unexpectedly tonight?”

"He should stay in Valhalla."

Thales clenched his fists; he could feel the little rascal trembling again.

“You know, he is my mother’s brother, he is my family.”

Rumba squinted and paced to a spot only two meters away from them, gazing at the corner that was tightly surrounded by the angry White Blade Guards.

"Losing a loved one—it makes me very sad."

Chaman Lumba coldly drew his sword from the worn-out scabbard at his waist.

"Shh!"

The sword he had once personally plunged into his brother's chest during a duel.

The "order officer" watched the Grand Duke's actions and waved his hand gently.

The already tense atmosphere seemed to be ignited instantly.

"puff!"

The Black Sand Territory soldiers in the first row took a step forward, their menacing aura palpable.

Despite their small numbers, the guards with their swords flashed and crouched low, bracing their longswords against the shields on their left arms.

“Step back, you traitors of Black Sand Territory,” the veteran White Blade Guard warned coldly, “or you will taste the wrath of the blade.”

However, the soldiers of Black Sand Territory remained unmoved.

“Very well,” the leader, who appeared to be an order officer, chuckled. “We’ve been waiting for this for a long time, gentlemen of the capital.”

The atmosphere became increasingly tense.

"Can we talk, Your Excellency?"

Thales let out a breath, looking at Grand Duke Lombard with a complicated expression, at the stark contrast in numbers in the arena: "Regarding tonight's events... perhaps there's another way to resolve this."

Chaman Lumba turned his head slightly.

He looked at the Star Prince with complete indifference, his eyes showing no emotion whatsoever.

It was as if I were looking at a corpse.

“Have you forgotten, Your Highness Thales?” Grand Duke Lombard raised an eyebrow, his face as cold as ice. “I have spoken to you about it.”

The little rascal hid behind Thales in fear.

"Unfortunately..."

The second prince frowned, looking at the other person in disbelief.

He recalled their first meeting.

Rumba remained expressionless and slowly shook his head, saying, "Children shouldn't drink alcohol."

Ugh.

Thales closed his eyes and gently exhaled.

Damn.

The next second, the Black Sand Grand Duke gently pressed his sword, exhaled, and his eyes were filled with bottomless coldness.

"Be swift," the Grand Duke ordered his army expressionlessly. "Leave no one alive."

"Especially that boy."

This chapter touches on much of the content from the previous chapters, such as Cohen and Miranda's initial arrival in Dragonfall City and the plot of their quest for the Sword of Calamity.

Thank you to all the readers who gave me tips this week!
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Thank you for your continued support of "The Fallen Schoolgirl" (also known as "The Passion of the Prince")!

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(End of this chapter)