Kingdom Bloodline

Chapter 204 Clear
Under the dim, ever-burning light, the soldiers roughly dragged Thales and Little Sly, whose hands were tied behind their backs, into the cell next to Cohen's.

Hearing the sound of the thick iron gate being locked, Thales whispered a few words of comfort to the bewildered little rascal, then turned his head and looked around through the fence.

Why do I feel like I have a special connection with this place?

There were only three bound prisoners—Wyatt, a man, and a woman hidden in the darkness—all staring at Thales in disbelief.

However, there were six guards who stared intently at the prisoners in the cell, their expressions fierce and extremely vigilant.

Thales clenched his fists behind his back, a sense of dejection washing over him: his dagger had been taken away.

He gave the only relatively dry corner in the cell to the rascal, while he himself sat down against the wall on the damp and dirty floor.

“What are you doing here, Wyatt?” Thales looked cautiously at the young man in the cell opposite him and asked in a serious voice, “Where are Putila, Rolf, and the rest of the delegation?”

Could it be that they are all...?

Wyman's face darkened.

“The mute, Lord Ada, and some soldiers, along with I, were sent out to search for you, Your Highness,” the prince’s attendant said, his face covered in scrapes and bruises, his clothes torn. “As for Mr. Putila, he should still be waiting for news from Valhalla.”

Thales frowned and began to think.

"No talking," a tall guard who looked like the leader said, walking up to their cell with his hand on his sword. "Do you want me to teach you how to shut up?"

Wyman glared at him resentfully, clenching his teeth.

Thales ignored him, and the second prince looked up and continued, "So how were you captured...?"

Wyatt was about to answer, but he was interrupted.

"Qiang!"

Amidst the grating sound of metal scraping against metal, the guard had already unceremoniously drawn a section of his sword.

He gripped the hilt of his sword and coldly interrupted Thales: "Kid, I warned you..."

"No talking!"

The little rascal turned pale with fright. She moved behind Thales and nudged the prince's back with her shoulder, signaling him to stop talking.

Thales sighed.

He slowly stood up from the wall and looked directly at the guard.

"The Exter people?"

The tall guard was slightly taken aback:
"what?"

Thales looked calmly at the guard who appeared to be the leader, as if trying to see through the man's thoughts in his eyes.

“I’m asking you,” the second prince said calmly, “are you an Exter, soldier?”

The guards, dressed in patrol uniforms, frowned.

“You were sent to guard me,” Thales slowly shook his head, glancing around at the soldiers. “So, you’re the ones who know?”

"Including those who, without leaving any way out, disregarding sacrifices, and sparing no expense, trekked all the way from the Black Sand Territory to follow Lumba in killing your king?"

The other five guards, upon hearing this, couldn't help but turn around and look, each with a different expression.

The guard, who seemed to be the leader, immediately turned somewhat ugly.

"Killed the king?"

In the next cell, a blond youth exclaimed in astonishment, his mouth agape: "So what Chloeshi said was true..."

“Shut up, Cohen,” a young girl in the opposite cell coldly interrupted him.

Thales heard a somewhat familiar female voice, and a thought struck him as he looked at the young girl.

She is……

The atmosphere in the cell became heavy.

“You,” the guard leader said, his face grim, his eyes filled with complex emotions, his brows furrowing, “you know nothing, brat.”

“But you know yourself,” Thales stared directly into his eyes, unwavering, “when you took up arms and entered Dragonsreach, when you saw the king’s body, were you so at ease, without any hindrance?”

The two guards looked displeased and turned away, no longer looking in their direction.

“Enough, you arrogant prince,” the guard captain noticed his subordinate’s actions, his expression changed, and he hesitated for a moment. “If you think this is how we…”

“I’m not asking anything of you,” Thales shook his head slightly and sighed. “Perhaps you are all forced to obey orders… but you are, after all, people of the North.”

“But the North I know shouldn’t be like this.”

The guard's expression remained unchanged, but a complex mix of emotions flickered in his eyes.

Thales raised his head again, his eyes clear as he looked at the guard leader: "I have only one request."

The guard leader pursed his lips, staring intently at Thales, his brows slightly furrowed.

"You know what crime I was arrested for."

“So, before I’m executed as the murderer,” Thales sighed, his expression somber.
"Let me talk to them for a while."

The leader of the guards stared into the air, his hand pressing repeatedly on the sword that was only half-drawn from its sheath.

A few seconds later, as if he had come to his senses, he turned to look at his colleagues and subordinates.

But everyone else had already turned their heads away, their expressions varied.

"Keng!"

Finally, the leader of the guards let out a cold snort and sheathed his sword.

“No matter how much you say, it’s all in vain,” he said coldly, then closed his eyes, turned away, and like his colleagues, ignored Thales.

Thales let out a deep breath.

“Thank you,” the second prince said wearily but sincerely, “Northerner.”

A wave of soreness washed over him, and he longed to slowly sit down against the wall.

But the prince caught a glimpse of the absent-minded little rascal beside him. The poor girl shrank back into the corner, staring blankly at the empty ground.

Thales felt a pang of sadness.

Thinking of his predicament, Thales shook his head, mustered his strength, and moved to the fence.

It's not over yet.

No rest.

"Where is this place?" Thales leaned against the rough wooden fence, observing his surroundings.

Compared to the dungeons of the Wild Grass Manor, this cell seemed rather simple, with only two eternal lamps burning a small amount of eternal oil.

strangeness.

“I don’t know, Your Highness,” Wyatt’s face appeared from behind the opposite cell, his expression filled with anxiety and anger: “We…we were ambushed, and then they covered our heads…”

Thales frowned slightly: "'We'? You mean..."

Before Thales could continue, in the next cell, a handsome young man, tightly bound by chains, struggled to move his head over.

"Your Highness!"

The poor prisoner seemed to be enduring excruciating pain as he gasped, “Your Highness Thales, I am Cohen, Cohen Karabyan.”

“You may not know me, but I am the guard and patrol captain of the royal capital—I mean, Yongxing City…”

As Thales looked at his face, a scene from the past flashed through his mind.

Karabyan.

It's him.

But how could he...?

“I recognize you, from the Twin Towers Longsword family,” Thales said thoughtfully, his gaze sweeping over Cohen’s blond hair. “I remember you almost got into a fight with your father in the Hall of Stars.”

Cohen's face stiffened, and he even forgot the excruciating pain in his right arm. Was that his first impression on the heir to the kingdom?

“It’s an honor to see you again, and your attendant, Your Highness the Second Prince Thales,” Cohen said with a sullen face, glancing at Wyatt, who was giving a disdainful snort, before listlessly looking at the little girl behind Thales: “And this young lady must be…”

“Um,” Cohen frowned, looked at Thales’ age, then at the girl’s age, and asked in confusion, “Your Highness?”

The female swordsman opposite Cohen raised an eyebrow and chuckled.

Thales's expression twitched.

The little rascal looked at Thales with a mournful face and a nervous expression.

Seeing his companion's chuckle, Cohen awkwardly realized, "That's true, you're not that age yet..."

“Ahem,” Thales frowned. “Thank you for your concern, Lord Kalabyan.”

Cohen, his face covered in dirt, struggled to lift his head and gave the prince a friendly smile.

“As for you, Miss Aarond from Dragonbreaker Fortress,” Thales turned to look at the lightly armored, black-haired woman diagonally opposite him and sighed, “I suppose you’re not here for sightseeing?”

Miranda Aarond, looking disheveled, put away her smile and maintained her indifferent expression.

She turned her head and said coldly amidst the clanking of the chains, "Just like you, Your Highness."

Thales stared blankly at Miranda, then at Cohen.

them……

The heir to the Arend family of the North...

“You two,” he took a deep breath, starting to think again, “do you realize what kind of trouble you’ve gotten yourself into?”

“I’ve heard something,” Miranda’s cool voice came through: “The King of Exeter has been assassinated?”

“It wasn’t just an assassination attempt,” Thales nodded, exhaling with a grim expression. “The king is dead.”

Several guards in the cell glanced at them unconsciously, only to be glared back at by the leader with fierce eyes.

Miranda frowned, and Wyman's eyes widened.

Cohen closed his eyes, lowered his head back to the ground, and said regretfully, "I knew it..."

The cunning young man in the corner of the cell shuddered slightly as he recalled the scene of King Nuen's death.

"So," the female swordsman's voice continued through the fence, "what exactly happened?"

Thales glanced at the sly one, sighed slightly, and then turned to the three men who were staring intently at him.

“I only know part of the truth,” Thales frowned, “and now…”

He raised his head, looked at the three people, and said with a solemn expression: "I need you to tell me exactly what happened to you, both the cause and the effect."

"Let's start with why you ended up in the North."

Ten minutes later.

"Kaslan Lumba?"

Thales couldn't hide the astonishment on his face, nor could he suppress the volume of his exclamation; even the six guards glanced at him.

The prince's hesitant gaze darted back and forth between the gloomy-faced Cohen and the extremely solemn Miranda.

The old man in that tavern.

It looks so reassuring.

and also……

His personality, his compassion and magnanimity, don't seem like the traits of a hypocritical person.

Wyman stared wide-eyed: "That old man in the tavern? Isn't he the former commander of the White Blade Guard? He's very famous."

“Surprising, isn’t it?” Miranda’s voice remained steady, but a suppressed emotion had crept in. “Rumor has it that he has a bad relationship with Chaman Lomba. I thought he was always loyal to the Walton family…”

“That old man with a wolf in sheep’s clothing,” Cohen struggled to his feet, baring his teeth in anger, “He didn’t even properly reattach my right arm; I knew he was up to no good…”

“You two are the closest; you even put your arms around each other when you meet.” Miranda’s cold words immediately exposed Cohen’s lie, making him look embarrassed.

Thales stared blankly at the ground, and some things in his memory began to become clear.

“No,” Thales breathed slowly, his eyes growing brighter, “Kaslan, this explains a lot of mysteries.”

“Nikolai told me that he learned from an old friend in the White Blade Guard that it was the Blade of Calamity that assassinated me beneath the fortress,” Thales’s gaze sharpened, his vision flashing back to the journey he took before entering Dragonsreach. “However, before King Nunn snapped his neck, Grand Duke Pefit told me that it was the Shield of Shadows that assassinated me.”

The 'old friend' that Nikolai was referring to was probably Kaslan.

Cohen and Miranda were both taken aback.

“The Shadow Shield?” Cohen frowned. “So they’re back?”

Thales shook his head, not answering the guard's question.

He must focus on the key points.

Wyatt glanced at Cohen with displeasure.

"The Sword of Calamity—whatever it may be—is a lie and a ruse fabricated by Kaslan and Chaman Lumba, just to lure you here in the name of the Tower of the End," Thales murmured as Cohen awkwardly realized no one was responding. "To be precise, it's to lure you here, Miss Arend, heir to the Duke of the North."

Miranda sighed.

“That’s right, Kroesi only sent back a message; she has no authority to decide who will be sent to the Tower of the End,” Cohen paused for a moment, then realized, “but Kaslan can—he is a close friend of Master Shao and can certainly suggest or even designate the person he wants.”

“The nobles of the Starry North secretly entered Dragonsky City—under normal circumstances, that would be one thing,” Wyatt pondered, picking up the conversation, “but with the king assassinated, the capture of suspicious Starry people, and the capture of the heir to the Northern Duke who had secretly infiltrated Dragonsky City, then the nature of the matter is…”

“A perfect scapegoat,” Miranda said softly as she slowly closed her eyes. “It is far more convincing than a young, vulnerable prince plotting to assassinate the king.”

But Thales didn't say anything.

His brain was working faster and faster.

Finally, in the dark and oppressive prison cell, the second prince spoke softly.

“Not only that,” Thales took a deep breath, the picture in his eyes becoming clearer: “Wyatt is right, you are still the heir to the North.”

“The North,” the second prince squinted, recalling Val Arend’s hysteria in the Palace of Restoration: “South of Dragonslayer Fortress, the Starry North that Lumba has always dreamed of.”

“When Rumba conspired with Duke Val, he was determined to take the Starry North.”

Several people fell silent.

Cohen blinked, seemingly still trying to piece together the clues, Miranda stared blankly at the chains binding her, and Wyman bit her lip tightly.

“I am the scapegoat for the king’s death, but you, Miss Arend,” Thales sighed slowly, “as the most legitimate heir to the North after Val Arend’s imprisonment, you are not only a scapegoat—you don’t even have to be a scapegoat.”

"Not a scapegoat?" Cohen was startled, struggling to sit up despite the pain. "What does that mean?"

Miranda opened her eyes; she understood.

Thales looked up, his mind becoming clearer and clearer.

"Consider this: the highly respected Duke Val Arend, framed and imprisoned by the foolish King Kessel," the prince said softly.

"The Duke of Arend's daughter and heir went to Exster to seek help, trying to uphold justice and reclaim everything that belonged to Arend."

Everyone in the cell held their breath.

Including the guards of the Black Sand Territory.

“What a good story, isn’t it?” Thales smiled wryly and shook his head slightly. “Perfect timing, Prince Star assassinated King Nuen at this time.”

“No way,” Cohen said, his face full of surprise, “they…”

“Chaman Lumba,” Thales sighed slowly, his face full of helplessness, “it seems that his cooperation agreement with Val Arend is still in effect.”

Miranda lowered her head, her face grim.

“And you, Miss Arendt,” Thales sighed, looking at the silent, icy Miranda, “in Rumba’s hands, you will be a pawn that influences the fate of the North in the upcoming negotiations or war…”

"The biggest chip."

"Draft, Draft, wake up! Draft, open your eyes! Draft, you can't die! (Panic-stricken) Draft, didn't we agree to watch Thales grow up, get married, and have children together?! (Kneels on the ground) Why did you die like this, Draft! We were only together for three days!"
(Heartbreaking) My dear drafts! My dear drafts!
You can't die!
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(End of this chapter)