Kingdom Bloodline

Chapter 189 A Symphony Written in Blood (Part 1)
"My Lord!"

Under the morning glow, the order officer Ulad looked at Nicolai and Griveo with a serious expression: "What are you waiting for?"

But the fallen star and the veteran remained motionless.

Until Nicolaimer silently pressed down on his Soulbreaker.

“Urad, I just asked you: Has His Majesty ordered the lifting of martial law?” The Meteorite’s face was cold as he said softly, “Your answer was somewhat strange.”

Griveaux gave a faint, cold laugh.

Urad paused slightly, "But martial law has indeed not been lifted..."

“That’s not the point,” the Meteorite interrupted the Order Officer, coldly saying, “The point is: you answered without hesitation, word for word—'His Majesty has not yet ordered the lifting of martial law.'”

Urad's expression immediately changed.

Nicolai's sharp gaze swept over each patrolman behind Urad, and seeing their flickering eyes, he continued solemnly, "If it is a decree to lift martial law, it will be issued by Prime Minister Count Risban and passed down to Viscount Reston, the Chief Garrison Commander of the Royal Capital. The order offices in each district will only receive the order signed by Reston, and then make arrangements for lifting martial law."

He snorted coldly: "A mere order officer in the capital city only gets specific tasks within the hall, such as clearing roadblocks and restoring traffic. He has no idea whether His Majesty has ordered the lifting of the state of emergency."

Urad frowned: "I..."

Without pausing, Nikolai's gaze made Urad feel as if he couldn't breathe: "Why are you in such a hurry to 'escort' us, even going so far as to make up excuses based on my words?"

Behind Urad, the patrol members exchanged glances, their expressions varied.

All of this was observed by the Meteorite.

This also made him feel down.

So suspicious.

what happened?
“It was just a slip of the tongue,” Urad sighed. “Besides, in this situation, the initial order must have come from His Majesty.”

But Nikolai remained silent.

Griveo, who was being supported by him, spoke up nonchalantly.

“I say, Urad, when did you become so concerned about the affairs of the kingdom?” The lame veteran of the Extreme Frontier sighed: “For more than ten years, from conscription to the clearing of the city, whenever there is any disturbance in the capital, your first reaction is always to shrink back and hide, for fear of losing your interests.”

As Nikolai listened to Griveaux's words, his expression grew increasingly frightening.

"As for leading troops to defend the emperor in times of crisis?"

Greaver raised an eyebrow, his expression as if he'd seen a flying mouse: "Don't be ridiculous."

Urad's face turned very ugly.

“Old cripple,” he gritted his teeth, “I don’t want to argue with you right now…”

But just then, a clear male voice rang out from the crowd: "Enough."

"They've already figured it out."

Urad sighed deeply and stepped aside to make room for the man who emerged from the crowd.

This time, it was Meteorite and Griveo's turn to change their expressions.

The new man was tall and imposing, with a deep and powerful gait and an imposing presence, exuding a strong aura of battlefield toughness.

“A tough guy,” Greaver exhaled. “You know him?”

Nikolai did not respond to Griveaux; he stared straight at the newcomer.

“It’s you,” Nikolai said, his eyes narrowed and his expression grave. “The Fire Knight.”

"Rom Tuleha".

The person stopped and stood in front of them.

"It would be an honor to see you again, Lord Nicolai."

"One of Exter's 'Five Generals'," Tuleha said coldly.

The knight from Black Sand Territory had already removed his gray helmet, but his somber gray armor remained on, along with the long saber at his waist, creating an imposing presence.

“If the Grand Duke of Black Sands wants to attend the banquet,” Nikolai snorted unhappily, “he can simply let us know in advance so we can send out invitations.”

Tuleha met Nikolai's gaze defiantly.

“Kambida mentioned to me what you said to him in the suburbs yesterday,” the Fire Knight said without changing his expression. “So, at your invitation, we’ve brought over a thousand people to ‘take a stroll’ in Dragon Sky City.”

Nikolai sized up the patrol team, his pupils slowly shrinking.

“You are courting death,” the Meteorite said coldly. “There are at least seven or eight thousand soldiers that can be urgently conscripted within Dragon Sky City alone, not to mention the patrol teams and the standing guards of the palace, not to mention the vassals in the suburbs…”

But Tuleha interrupted him without a second thought.

“Yes, Dragon Sky City is very powerful, with countless conscripts and an astonishing standing army,” the Fire Knight said calmly. “But who has the authority to conscript them?”

Nikolai's heart sank, and a bottomless chill ran through him.

He recalled what Urad had said at the beginning: someone was trying to assassinate His Majesty.

"What do you mean?" he asked seriously, a hint of anxiety unconsciously creeping into his voice.

Impossible. His Majesty is guarded by the most formidable melee guards, each possessing exceptional skills, extensive experience, and the resolve to sacrifice their lives. Even the Wrath of the Kingdom could not...

With such a small force, how dare Rumba... what exactly does he want to do?
Nikolai and Tuleha's eyes met in the air, as if sparks were about to fly.

"What I mean is, you don't need to worry about this issue."

The knight of Black Sand Territory said expressionlessly, "Exter will soon be reborn."

Nikolai forced himself to calm down.

"A traitor, isn't he?" The Meteorite gripped his knife tighter.

He said coldly, "How long have you been planning this? To bring two thousand people into Dragon Sky City... neither the chaos caused by the disaster nor a mere gang leader could have accomplished this—who else did you bribe?"

Commander-in-Chief Reston? Or even Prime Minister Lisban?
But Tuleha did not answer his question again.

“Lord Greaver,” the Fire Knight turned to the lame old soldier, his expression respectful, “I have heard of your great name and know that you have always harbored resentment towards the Walton family’s rule…”

Nicolai frowned slightly.

But Grevo reacted even faster than he had anticipated.

“No need to say anything more,” Griveor breathed a sigh of relief and said easily, “I do dislike that Nunn, and our king is indeed a bastard…”

Tuleha's eyes lit up: "Then you..."

“But, Chaman Lumba?” Griveo didn’t give him a chance to interrupt, the old soldier flashing his yellow teeth and grinning like a street thug.

"Although I am poor and miserable, and I don't know many words, I am still a northerner."

“Even if I am dissatisfied with my king, I will not lead my troops into the capital,” Griveaux’s tone grew colder. “I will not sell my loyalty to a patricide and a traitor.”

The Fiery Knight looked regretful, lowered his head, and sighed.

“Few can understand His Excellency’s painstaking efforts and persistence,” Tuleha raised his head and said seriously, as if he did not hear Griveaux’s sarcasm: “But believe me, his efforts and sacrifices, and everything he has done that is not understood by the world, are all for the future of Exter, for the future of the Northlanders.”

Griveaux spat on the ground, looking disgusted.

"To kill one's own brother for the throne of the duke, and to take advantage of the disaster to wreak havoc and plunder the blood of the common people?"

The veteran said fiercely:
"What future can this kind of ruler bring to the people of the North?"

Tuleha did not speak.

Urad, standing to one side, tossed his long braids, his expression sinister:

"Perhaps we shouldn't waste any more time."

The market boss of the sword district whistled, his eyes gleaming with amusement:

"According to the Grand Duke's orders, if we can't fool them, we have to execute Plan B."

“This might hurt a little,” Urad said ominously.

The atmosphere suddenly became tense after these words were spoken.

It's like the balance of a scale has been broken.

Tuleha nodded slowly: "You know, Your Excellency, I really want to test my skills against you."

"To make up for my regret of not being able to slay the Sword of Light with my own hands."

"Then you've got what you wanted today. Those two moves in the snow weren't quite enough." Nikolai drew his sword and replied calmly.

Nikolai's gaze swept over each patrolman.

Fortunately, the number of soldiers in Black Sand Territory was not large, less than a quarter; the vast majority were just a rabble under Urad's command.

Perhaps they can manage by relying on the terrain of the ruins.

But the uneven quality of this "patrol team" did not improve Nikolai's mood: Where are the main forces of the Black Sand Territory now?

Or... do they have a more important mission?

Tuleha showed no intention of making a move, simply watching Urad wave his hand gently.

The patrolmen's expressions grew increasingly serious.

"Can you still fight?" Meteorite released Griveo, letting the veteran steady himself. "Crippled?"

"Don't joke around, you deadpan face," Griveaux, his face contorted in a grimace, coughed violently, wiping the blood from his mouth, and gritted his teeth, "Now?"

"I can crush another hundred more scourges—"

But the veteran's words came to an abrupt end.

As Urad waved, nearly fifty people came to the front of the patrol, forming two semi-circular lines, with the front crouching and the back standing.

Fifty soldiers simultaneously raised their weapons, aiming intently at the two experts at the pinnacle of skill.

Nicolai's breath hitched suddenly, while Griveaux's eyes widened.

That is……

A total of fifty crossbows for infantry.

How do we deal with...the two of them?

All of Griveaux's words converged into one word in that instant.

A word that Nicolai would wholeheartedly agree with:
"Hold!"

The man with eight braids turned slightly to the side and retreated into the ranks of his subordinates.

"My two valiant and renowned lords, please allow me to introduce myself one last time."

“Chai Urad.” “Doing some small business in Dragonsreach,” Urad laughed, seemingly very happy: “From infantry crossbows to magic guns… that’s all within my business scope.”

Nikolai and Griveaux looked at the dense array of crossbows and both sighed.

Urad opened his eyes, which had been narrowed into slits with a smile, but a cold glint flashed within them:

"Sufficient inventory."

Tuleha turned his head, a faint displeasure showing on his face.

The next moment, fifty crossbow bolts rained down on the two Extreme Realm experts without leaving any blind spots.

Black arrows rained down through the air.

It brought out countless bright reds.

----

Grand Duke Lombard lowered his sword.

A dozen or so crossbows were extended from the shoulders of the Black Sand soldiers in the front row.

"arrow!"

The shouts of the White Blade Guards rang in my ears.

Thales and Little Sly were pinned to the ground, blocking everyone's path.

However, the Star Prince's mind was in complete turmoil at this moment.

He knew he couldn't be of any help in such a battle.

Just like last time under the fortress.

All he could do was… Thales looked at Grand Duke Lombard in the crowd.

Thoughts drift away.

No, everything is wrong.

It's so abnormal.

While they were thinking, the dozen or so guards with melee weapons quickly formed a tortoise-shell-like defensive formation in front of the crossbows.

They all knelt down on one knee, leaned against each other, raised the arm shields on their forearms, and held them diagonally in front of them to block their heads and bodies.

"Shhhh-"

The crossbow bolts came whistling through the air.

Thales still couldn't understand it.

Lumba appeared after King Nuen died.

He even implicitly admitted that he was the mastermind behind the murder.

but……

"clang!"

Multiple crossbow bolts struck the arm shield, bounced off, and made a series of piercing, sharp sounds.

Two or three crossbow bolts unfortunately pierced human bodies, producing the distinctive dull thud of flesh entering flesh.

But none of the White Blade Guards uttered a sound; they merely exchanged cold, sharp glances.

After the first volley of crossbow bolts, the guards with white blades immediately stood up.

The leader let out a thunderous roar.

"charge!"

Ten melee guards charged back at the soldiers of Black Sand Territory without hesitation.

To defeat a large number with a small force.

Thales breathed in a daze, completely unaware that he and Little Sly were being carried away from the battlefield by several melee guards.

His mind was filled with questions.

why?
Why did Lumba come to Dragon City?

If it was to resolve the threat from Dragoncity and seek revenge, then Grand Duke Lunba has succeeded.

With the king dead, Exter will descend into chaos, and Walton and Dragonhill will have no chance to unite the dukes and seek revenge on Black Sand Territory.

Black Sand Territory is safe.

Rumba—even if he is the real murderer, why would he appear in this suspicious situation?

To silence them?

No, Rumba doesn't need to show up at all. He can simply stay in his territory and wait for news of the king's death. The king's assassination will just be another headless murder.

Only Saridon will bear the guilt of regicide once again, living up to their reputation as assassins and their regicide family.

Everything was so perfect—Rumba effortlessly dealt with his greatest and most terrifying enemy on this night of calamity.

A deafening battle cry rang out.

"With blade in hand, my life ends in the north!"

"Right attack!"

Ten melee guards, their faces contorted with rage, charged into the enemy ranks, shouting commands with fierce intensity.

The momentum that the Black Sand Territory had built up through sheer numbers and a semi-encirclement was instantly lost.

Grand Duke Lombard frowned deeply.

Dragon Guard.

What a pity.

A guard held his arm shield horizontally, parrying an attack from the enemy on his left, while simultaneously thrusting his longsword forward, working in coordination with his comrade on his right to tear open the abdomen of an enemy.

The other person collapsed to the ground in agony, clutching their protruding intestines and groaning in agony.

But the guards showed no intention of killing him; they simply stepped over him and continued on their way.

Charge into the next wave of enemies.

The Black Sand soldiers had to spare some men to drag their comrades back into the formation.

This reminded Thales of the scene of Kingdom's Wrath and his Wrathguard charging.

Blood splattered among the crowd.

The melee guards work in pairs, one blocking the attack from the left while the other tears open the enemy on the right.

The two moved forward in tacit agreement, switching positions and responsibilities back and forth with a rhythm of one going fast and the other slowing down, stopping and starting.

Even when they were occasionally injured, they didn't care, seemingly only focused on the enemy ahead.

Under the unexpected counterattack of the White Blade Guard, five or six corpses fell instantly on the Black Sand Territory side.

The Dragon Guards, though few in number, were exceptionally fierce. In the instant of their counterattack as the rearguard, they even forced the Black Sand Territory's formation to retreat step by step.

The melee guards wielded their blades wildly, using their rich experience, formidable combat skills, and exquisite teamwork to relentlessly pursue and even counterattack the enemy.

They covered the rear for their evacuating comrades.

Thales was being held under the arm of a soldier, breathing unconsciously.

He pulled his attention away from the fighting and desperately pondered Rumba's unusual behavior.

Rumba made no attempt to conceal his entry into the city with his army, venturing into dangerous territory and only arousing suspicion...

They even... wanted to kill him!
Not only would it expose oneself and invite trouble, but it could also lead to widespread condemnation and make it difficult to escape charges.

Everyone in Exter will not let the assassin who killed the King of the Union get away with it, and the hard-won breathing space in Black Sand Territory will only be lost.

This is not in Rumba's best interest at all.

Thales really didn't understand why Rumba would make such an unwise choice.

Just like that unexpected attack at the Broken Dragon Fortress.

Compared to King Nuen's unfathomable nature, this Grand Duke of Lombardy struck him as elusive and incomprehensible.

Thales even had to wonder again: Has Rumba gone mad?

But then he remembered Putile's words: "Lumba is not crazy."

Chaman Lumba...

What do you want?
The White Blade Guard, who were leading him and Little Sly to safety, crossed an abandoned rooftop, but suddenly stopped.

Thales looked up and his hair stood on end!

Before them stood Els.K.K.D., the tall vassal of Black Sand Territory, Viscount of Menton.

And a row of soldiers beside him.

They all raised their crossbows at Thales, the little rascal, and the four melee guards present.

Thales sighed.

Another crossbow.

Before his eyes flashed the scene of Yodl being struck by a crossbow bolt when he was attacked in front of the Palace of Restoration, facing the assassin of the Duke of the North.

What an annoying weapon.

Thales thought in despair.

He turned to look at the sly one, whose eyes were also filled with fear.

“As the Grand Duke says, Your Highness Thales,” said Viscount Cambida, Grand Duke Lombard’s advisor, with a smile, “please choose your enemies and friends carefully.”

"A lack of discernment is a great taboo for a king."

The next second, the Viscount swung his arm at them.

The bowstring trembled.

The crossbows fired in unison.

(End of this chapter)