Kingdom Bloodline

Chapter 197 Behind the Scenes (Part 2)

"How do we end this?"

Inside the moving carriage, Rumba lowered his head, absentmindedly fiddling with his sword, his expression subtle, but he did not answer.

“King Nuen is dead, but Dragonstreet City remains powerful, and there are still four very important dukes in the Hall of Heroes. I don’t think they are all fools,” Thales said cautiously, observing the dukes’ expressions. “And the Star Prince’s assassination of the King of Union—this result certainly won’t satisfy everyone, especially given the sudden appearance of the Black Sand Territory’s army.”

Thales stared intently at Rumba's face and said softly, "How do you plan to explain this to them? Or will you simply not explain anything and just kill them all?"

Rumba remained silent, his expression wooden.

Thales clenched his fist slightly.

The carriage was still moving, and it was unclear how far it was from Valhalla.

I have no idea how far away my life is from ending.

no solution anymore.

Strong medicine is needed.

“If nothing unexpected happens, once news of Nunn’s death spreads, the election of kings will be held immediately,” Thales took a deep breath and spoke calmly, “Do you think you still have a chance?”

Sure enough, Rumba's eyes flickered, and he looked at him.

Thales suppressed his nervousness and responded with the calmest expression.

“Not to mention you are Nunn’s enemy and have a terrible reputation for fratricide,” Thales said, emphasizing each word. “The dukes will not let you become king.”

Rumba's gaze was fixed on his sword.

"King?" The Grand Duke's voice rose as he pronounced the word in a questioning tone, then he gave a soft, cold snort and repeated it sarcastically:
"king!"

“You were born into the Starry Sky royal family, a descendant of the emperor, the natural, legitimate, and legally ruling family of the entire Star Kingdom,” Rumba said quietly, “Of course you don’t have such concerns, right?”

Thales felt a sudden jolt; in that instant, it was as if he had grasped something.

"Concerns?" he asked naturally.

Lumba ignored him, his sharp gaze still fixed on his old sword: "From Nuen's grandfather onwards, they have regarded Black Sand Territory as a thorn in their side. At that time, Walton had already begun to monopolize the throne in Dragonsreach City."

The little rascal blinked.

“By the time of Nunn’s father, the Walton family began to try to control the Black Sand Territory,” Lumba continued, his gaze somewhat lost in thought.
"For example, summoning the youngest son of the Black Sand Duke to the White Blade Guard, or, in the name of the King, marrying his daughter, the noble Princess Exter, to his father—the heir of the Black Sand Duke."

Thales frowned slightly.

During the duel between King Nunn and Pefit, he seemed to have heard a similar story.

“That’s how my parents got together,” Rumba sighed, then a rare smile appeared on the face of the Grand Duke of Black Sands. “Unexpectedly, this marriage, which was based purely on the king’s will, turned out to be quite good. The old servants said that my mother did everything she could to make my father fall in love with her and bore him two sons and three daughters. This love continued even after my father became the Grand Duke.”

The carriage drove into a narrow alley, seemingly taking a shortcut or a longer route.

Rumba continued speaking:

"And so, my father single-handedly resisted the encroachment of Dragon City, even though this encroachment originated from the woman he loved most by his bedside—family and power. He spent his whole life wavering on this balance."

Thales and the little rascal listened quietly.

Such a Black Sand Grand Duke is a rare sight.

“From a very young age, Harold and I were taken by our mother to travel between Dragonsreach and Black Sand Territory,” Grand Duke Lomba sighed, his eyes filled with nostalgia, “until we came of age, until Harold began to take over the governance of Black Sand Territory.”

“Harold?” Thales’ heart skipped a beat; the name seemed somewhat unfamiliar. “He is…”

Lumbar paused for a moment.

“Harold Lumbar, my elder brother,” the Grand Duke said, his eyes flashing with gloom and mockery, “a ridiculous fool.”

"There is no one more foolish than him in the world."

He said quietly.

The little rascal seemed to remember something, and she looked at Rumba, whose face had turned slightly pale.

From Rumba's tone, Thales sensed a different kind of emotion.

“You don’t have any brothers, do you?” Rumba’s gaze remained fixed on the sword. After a few seconds, he said desolately:
"What a blessing."

Thales raised an eyebrow: he remembered the two small stone urns in the Starry Sky Chamber, his nominal sister and brother.

Lydia and Luther Star.

Rumba gently drew his sword.

The Grand Duke's expression was complex as he gently traced the sharp blade with his fingers.

“Until twelve years ago,” Rumba slightly raised his head, looking at Thales, his tone turning cold:

Everything has changed.

His actions chilled the prince to the bone.

and many more.

Thales' brain started working.

Twelve years ago... twelve years ago again?
That means……

"The Star Kingdom is in an unprecedented civil war, in complete chaos," Lumba's voice rang out in the carriage, recounting a history that Thales knew all too well: "Since the Fourth Continental War, Exter has had a once-in-a-century opportunity: to reunify the North and completely eliminate the threat from the Dragon Fortress."

Thales stared blankly at the sword in Rumba's hand.

“Nun is ready to march south. He has contacted almost every grand duke. In response, Harold, as the heir to the Black Sand Territory, has been sent to attend the council of lords in Dragonsreach,” Rumba slowly inhaled a breath of cold air and continued:
"An accident has occurred."

Thales' heart skipped a beat.

“One of Harold’s followers suddenly sprang into action and assassinated Nunn’s eldest son,” Rumba’s rough voice was deep and authoritative, as if it contained a hidden power. He sneered, “That arrogant, cruel, and bloodthirsty Prince Suliel, who was just like his father, died in Harold’s ranks.”

At that moment, Thales' heart skipped a beat.

The second prince remained motionless, digesting Rumba's story, while his hand was held firmly by the little rascal, the grip tightening.

He had heard this story before.

Just last night.

“The news has reached Black Sand Territory—Harold’s followers assassinated the prince,” Lumba said, pressing his hand on the hilt of his sword, his face cold. “Nun will not let us off the hook. For this reason, Father has even prepared to go to war with Dragonsreach.”

“Surprisingly, Harold, who should have been held responsible, was not reprimanded in the slightest, let alone imprisoned or detained.”

“Nun comforted him gently, spoke up for him personally, and even continued to let him participate in the meetings, and sent him back to Black Sand Territory with great courtesy,” Lumba sneered. “Even though Nun lost his most important eldest son, Harold was not harassed—Father sensed something was wrong at that time.”

Rumba looked at his sword, but his eyes began to lose focus, as if he were looking at something else: "I still remember the day Harold returned. At the dinner table, he reported Nunn's opinions, advising his father to support Dragonstreet City, and even to accept the king's officials to be stationed there in preparation for the war."

"His father and he had a fierce argument."

"I had to stand in the middle to prevent them from drawing their swords against each other," the Grand Duke said slowly.

"It was also on that day that Father suddenly realized that Harold Lombard, his eldest son and heir on whom he had placed his hopes, like his youngest brother Caslan, had long since become the most steadfast supporter and follower of Dragonstreet and the King of the Commonwealth over the past thirty years."

Thales frowned deeply: "Like Beacon City?"

Peffert's despairing face flashed before my eyes.

Rumba turned to him expressionlessly.

Thales felt a chill run down his spine.

“Just like Fengzhao City,” he affirmed Thales’s words with a faint tone, “Father cannot bear such a fact.”

“Father thinks that if things continue like this, it will only be a matter of time before Harold inherits the Black Sand Territory and we become the king’s vassals,” Rumba’s face was chilling. “Even the position of Grand Duke of Black Sand will soon become a vassal matter that Dragonstreet City can decide at will.”

“My father tried everything to change Harold’s mind: earnest talks, threats, scolding, lectures, and even having me persuade him from the sidelines.”

"But all efforts were in vain."

The little rascal, pale-faced, shrank back behind Thales.

The fearsome Grand Duke of Black Sands lowered his head, his face rather somber: "Finally, Father has made up his mind to reclaim Harold's right of succession."

“Things got out of hand at that time,” Lumba slowly shook his head: “My father mentioned the idea to the vassals, and he was immediately met with fierce opposition and advice.”

"Moreover, from the day Father insisted on stripping Harold of his inheritance rights, harvests decreased, finances suffered, and trade routes were blocked: troubles within Black Sand Territory also increased strangely. What once happened in Beacon City is now happening in Black Sand Territory."

Rumba sneered, his tone filled with deep sarcasm:
"When the entire Black Sand Territory was in an uproar, Father was awakened to the fact that in the past thirty years, Dragon City had not only been infiltrated by the bloodline of the Rumba family, but Nunn had also done more than just win over Harold."

“Harold refused to yield, and Father refused to compromise. The situation in the territory was getting worse and worse: the forces supporting Harold, both internal and external, had exceeded Father’s ability to handle. He was becoming more and more desperate and haggard,” Lumba’s tone grew lower and lower, and the emotion in his words became paler and paler: “Black Sand Territory is no match for Dragon Sky City at all.”

"Finally, on the day when the king's messenger arrived again."

“My father, who was exhausted, called me to his room.”

Thales felt a chill run down his spine.

He couldn't help but recall Chaman Lombara's infamous, or rather, notorious, and even infamous deeds.

Lumba raised his head and looked out at the streets of Longxiao City: "I still remember my father's eyes, which were full of determination and gloom."

Thales couldn't help but grab the little rascal behind him.

“He talked to me for a long, long time,” the Black Sand Grand Duke’s gaze grew colder and his tone calmer. “I clung to his leg and wept, pleading with him with every word I could think of.”

“I even pulled up my sleeve to show him the wound I had when I was fourteen and hunting—Harold had dragged me out of the mouth of a snow leopard.”

The Grand Duke's words became increasingly bland.

But Thales' heart tightened more and more.

Grand Duke Lombard, seemingly unperturbed, recounted: "'Child, we are Lombards, of the blood of the rebellious king,' Father said. 'Our tribal word is 'never yield,' whether against external forces or internal ones.'"

"'Whether to the emperor or the king.'"

The Grand Duke exhaled, his eyes filled with unfathomable darkness, his tone resolute and unwavering: "'We will never yield.'"

Thales listened intently to Rumba's words.

The little rascal's eyes widened.

Rumba scoffed softly, then lowered his head to look directly at the weapon in his hand: "In the end, he gave me this sword."

That old weapon with a worn-out scabbard and a frayed hilt.

It was as if that was his most important treasure.

“A week later, I publicly challenged Harold to a duel.”

"Father approved it."

Thales held his breath, not daring to utter a sound.

“Mother knelt before the study and wept all night, while Father sat in the study with the lamp burning all night,” Rumba slowly turned his sword and stroked the iron fist emblem on the hilt: “until Mother fainted and was taken away by the servants.”

There was a moment of silence inside the carriage.

For a moment, all that could be heard was the sound of wheels scraping against the ground.

“This is…” Thales opened his mouth with difficulty to speak, but was interrupted by Rumba.

"On the day of the duel..."

“Harold, he had at least three chances to end my life, and his brother’s life,” the Grand Duke said calmly, though his voice was hollow and trembling.

"At least three times."

Rumba's hand, which had been stroking the sword hilt, stopped moving.

His voice became ethereal, as if he were speaking from a very, very far place.

"Finally, when I pierced his heart, I saw his face," the Grand Duke said calmly. "He was smiling."

Rumba took a deep breath, his head bowed and his expression unreadable: "The same smile as the day I was dragged out of the snow leopard's mouth."

Thales sighed.

This is simply...

“Harold grabbed my collar and whispered his last words in my ear,” Rumba hummed softly, as if recounting a story someone else was going to tell over tea: “'Remember, Charman.'”

"'We will never give in.'"

Rumba chuckled softly, his emotions indiscernible.

Thales looked up, staring blankly at his sword.

The sword that belonged to the Grand Duke of Black Sands, the one used to kill his brother.

"The next day," Rumba's voice drifted into my ears:

"Mother jumped from the highest watchtower in the castle."

Thales and the little rascal remained motionless.

A silent sorrow permeated the train carriage.

The story of the Rumba family filled him with mixed emotions.

Lumba took a deep breath: "On the third day, Nuen, in the authority of the king, ordered me to go to Everstar City to declare war on the entire planet."

The carriage trembled slightly as it passed over a ditch.

“A few months later at Lehman Pass, when the Wrath of the Kingdom broke through with its last remaining strength and reached my father, he did not dodge or raise his sword, but let Mu twist his neck,” Rumba chuckled softly. “It was only later that I suddenly realized: my father was probably looking for death.”

"Perhaps beneath the River of Hell, he can reunite with his mother and Harold."

Rumba stopped talking.

Thales slowly exhaled.

The little rascal covered his mouth tightly, his face filled with fear.

The carriage was eerily quiet, almost suffocating.

until……

"so."

"Is everything you've done for revenge?" Thales frowned, asking with difficulty, "Do you want Nunn to pay the price, or do you want Dragonsky City destroyed?"

Rumba gave a mocking laugh, slowly leaning back to reveal his face to the light again: "Hatred? That ridiculous thing?"

“Don’t compare me to a coward like Peffert,” Thales frowned.

"Then why are you telling me this story?" the prince asked, puzzled. "Don't tell me you just want to talk to someone who's about to die."

The Black Sands Grand Duke's eyes slowly darkened.

Rumba looked down at him, slowly shaking his head. His voice was low and cold, his words chilling: "You are indeed special, child, but your vision remains at the level of those mediocre people."

“As for what I really want, it’s more than self-preservation, more than revenge, more than the death of a king, more than the destruction of a territory,” Rumba took a slow breath, his tone firm: “just a little bit more.”

Thales stared intently at Rumba's face, his mind racing as he tried to decipher his thoughts.

“Of course,” Rumba snorted, “You were born into the royal family of Shining Star and live in an era after the ‘wise king,’ so you wouldn’t understand this kind of sorrow.”

The Grand Duke said no more. Rumba sheathed his sword and said nothing more.

Thales was slightly taken aback.

A wise ruler.

This wasn't the first time he'd heard this name from the mouths of the northerners.

The last time I heard him was from King Nunn, and Thales didn't realize it at the time.

But this time, Thales remembered.

He instinctively reached for his chest.

Wise ruler, Mindis Canxing III.

One of the Three Kings of the Stars.

A true king does not prioritize bloodline, yet bloodlines are honored because of the king.

Why? Why did both King Nuen and Grand Duke Lomba mention this supreme king of the stars from over a hundred years ago?
What did he do?
But what exactly does Rumba want?
Thales lowered his head deeply.

“I don’t understand,” Thales gasped, trying to make sense of everything that was so confusing. “I thought everything last night was just a desperate counterattack, a last-ditch effort to protect yourself, a swift move to fight back to the death…”

"If Black Sand Territory doesn't do this, then Dragon Sky City will..."

Rumba turned his gaze and looked at him with a meaningful expression.

Thales bit his lower lip.

"To win over external forces like Shrews, to mobilize so many troops into the city, to switch them out right under the nose of the 'Dark Room,' and to even hire assassins to kill the king," the second prince looked up and said urgently, "your plan is simply not sound at all."

"If it weren't for the coincidence of the calamity invasion that kept the king away from the protection of the White Blade Guard, you wouldn't have been able to succeed at all..."

Just then, Rumba snorted coldly, interrupting Thales's words.

"coincide?"

The Black Sands Grand Duke's gaze sharpened once more.

“Indeed, under normal circumstances, my flawed plan wouldn’t have had any chance at all,” Rumba said calmly.
"King Gongju, heavily guarded by the White Blade Guard, sits in the highest palace in the city, possessing the impregnable Dragon Sky City, commanding the most abundant and powerful troops, enjoying the richest and finest supplies and weapons, and also having eyes and ears like the Dark Chamber."

“Even if all two thousand of my men were warriors at the highest level, it would be impossible for us to kill him under these circumstances.”

Thales was slightly taken aback.

and so……

“You’re right. If it weren’t for the unexpected disaster that brought chaos to Dragon Sky City, the oversight of the city gates and sluices, the king’s conscription order, the White Blade Guard’s mistakes, the emptiness of the Hall of Heroes, and the martial law in the Shield District,” Rumba said softly.

"It would be impossible to accomplish this by my cooperation with Shrews, Urald, or other allies alone."

Thales's gaze froze.

He picked up on another layer of meaning in Rumba's words.

Thales's expression slowly changed.

"What do you mean by this?" the second prince asked slowly and with difficulty in his most cautious, careful, and lightest tone.

No.

impossible.

Rumba gave a faint, cold laugh.

"They didn't tell you anything, did they?"

The Black Sands Grand Duke spoke as if mocking an ignorant child: "Whether it was the calamity or the assassination."

"Disaster? Assassination?"

The little rascal instinctively sensed that something was wrong.

"them?"

Sure enough, the next moment, filled with incredulous suspicion, Thales leaned forward abruptly, instantly raising his voice, almost shouting as he demanded:
"'who are they?"

"What does this have to do with disaster?"

"Who else is cooperating with you and the Black Sand Territory?"

Rumba slowly shook his head, his eyes filled with contempt and sneer.

“Guess,” the Grand Duke of Black Sands said calmly, as if this were the most relaxed conversation imaginable:
"What kind of allies and forces could cover everything up for me, pull strings, devise plans, and even create such an impossible 'coincidence' as a disaster to support me in accomplishing this feat?"

"What kind of being could possibly stir up such a storm in Dragon Sky City?"

Thales was dumbfounded.

He dared not think about the answer in his heart.

No way.

Will not.

Just then, the carriage stopped.

Thales snapped out of his daze and glanced out of the car.

“This isn’t Valhalla,” the second prince said, startled. “What are you trying to do?”

Rumba slowly exhaled: "One of my collaborators wants you dead."

Thales' eyes widened.

“Let’s take a look,” the Grand Duke of Black Sands said coldly, opening the carriage door. “What price can you offer?”

----

Star Kingdom, Eternal Star City, an unnamed underground area.

The torches were gradually going out.

The sound of the iron gate opening and closing was rough, and the noise of a group of guards changing shifts could be heard through the layers of iron curtains.

A rough voice echoed from the closed cell:
"The sun has risen."

Outside the cell, the muscular figure sitting in the chair paused for a moment before slowly raising his head.

“Yes,” the robust figure wearing the crown said calmly, “the sun has risen.”

“I guess you’re not the kind of person who can sit across from a traitor from behind a cell door for half the night,” the Duke of the North asked sarcastically through the gate of the cell door. “What happened?”

The figure in the chair spoke in a deep, authoritative voice: "You figured it out?"

“Whenever you have something on your mind, you just sit there lost in thought,” Val Arend scoffed. “I remember when you were punished by being sent to the West City Police Department for your rampage on Red Street.”

"You came back looking like this on your first day on the job, all bruised and battered."

His strong figure trembled slightly, and in that instant, his voice carried a hint of agility and laughter: "You know, Ginny is very strong."

His response was a disdainful snort from the Duke of the North.

silence.

A moment later, the robust figure stroked a glittering star badge on his hand and asked calmly:
"Wa, will you miss them?"

The prisoner behind the small gate seemed to pause slightly in surprise.

"Who?" the Duke asked dejectedly.

A pair of tired blue eyes, filled with an unreadable emotion, were revealed beneath his robust figure.

“Family,” he said calmly, his voice still low, “those we take for granted in our daily lives, but only remember after we lose them.”

The people in the cell remained silent.

Then the robust figure continued:

"For example, the old Duke Aaron, and your brothers, Rohan, Kur, Nolan Nur, and your sister, your wife, your eldest son and your second son..."

"Boom!"

A loud thud came from behind the cell.

"Enough," the Duke said, panting heavily, his voice laced with pent-up anger, "What's the point of saying all this now?"

A few seconds of silence.

"No, it makes sense."

The robust figure slowly rose to his feet.

"That's about it," he said calmly.

The prisoners behind the cell did not answer.

“I’m here to tell you,” the visitor outside the cell said slowly, “that the culprit behind the bloodshed in the North twelve years ago…”

"King Exeter, who gathered his army and marched south to invade."

The Duke of the North paused slightly behind the prison door.

His face reappeared on the gate.

His breathing became heavier and heavier.

There, he looked out of the cell, at the supreme king of the Star Kingdom, King Kessel V, who, with his tall and robust figure, spoke in the coldest and most terrifying tone:

"That guy who massacred the city for three days after breaching the Dragon Fortress, and then marched his troops into the northern border in the spring."

“The sinner who hanged your father on the city gate, chopped your brother into mincemeat, caused your sister and wife to disappear, your two sons to die, and your youngest daughter to be paralyzed.”

"That tyrant who committed countless crimes in the North, burning, killing, looting, and plundering on your family's lands."

"That hateful enemy who made the disaster in the Star Kingdom even more severe..."

The Duke of the North gripped the iron gate railing tightly with both hands.

"Boom!"

His knuckles were pale, and his fingertips trembled slightly.

"Nun Walton VII".

King Catherine V said in an unquestionable, cold voice:
"The so-called born king has already paid the price for his atrocities."

"Tonight."

Dead silence.

It felt like an eternity before the Duke's heavy breathing finally subsided.

"What did you say?" The Duke's voice trembled.

“What have you done?” Val looked up, casting an incredulous gaze at his former close friend, now the king.
"Kai!"

"How did you do it?"

"What exactly did you do?"

Kessel did not answer, but simply stared coldly at the Duke and slowly spoke:
"Last night, dragon blood flowed across the northern lands."

"The chaos of Exter begins here, and the dragon kingdom will perish from this moment on," the king's voice carried a terrible chill: "With a blood-red light, the long-dimmed stars will rise again."

"Radiant and dazzling".

"Even better than before."

As soon as Kessel finished speaking, he turned around without hesitation and left the cubicle.

Behind him came the hysterical, frantic questioning of the Duke of the North.

"Kai!"

Val Arend shook the bars frantically, his voice echoing through the cell: "You damned bastard... tell me, tell me!"

"What the hell have you done?!"

"Kaiser Star!"

But the King of Stars walked alone in the narrow corridor, paying no heed to the prisoner's words.

He just kept moving forward.

In the dim light and in the decaying air, I walked further and further away.

The Supreme King, expressionless, pushed open an iron door and walked out into the corridor.

There, an elderly figure wearing a black cloak and leaning on a cane bowed slightly to the king.

"Is everything going smoothly?" the king asked coldly.

“Of course,” Morat, the kingdom’s chief intelligence officer, master of the secret department, and ‘Black Prophet’, smiled slightly. He stood up, his tone relaxed and calm: “My Majesty.”

"There was only one small accident."

It's almost the end of the month, and your monthly pass will be wasted if you don't vote now. Come on, vote now!

By Wujian, who looked completely serious.

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(End of this chapter)