Kingdom Bloodline

Chapter 205 Execution on the Spot
The cell fell silent.

"Will something happen in the North?" Wyatt asked, sounding somewhat dejected. "Will Exter really use the assassination of the king as a pretext to send troops south?"

“This is what Lombard intends, isn’t it? With this reason, he might be able to easily gain the support of his people,” Thales said, looking at their expressions. “But I think the other dukes won’t agree—each of them can see that this is Lombard’s scheme.”

“What happened before has already proven it,” Thales shook his head, “Black Sand Territory alone simply cannot take down Dragonbreaker Fortress.”

“But they have Miranda,” Cohen sighed, gritting his teeth, “her safety will affect the attitude of the Northern vassals—and the supplies and support for Dragon Keep depend entirely on the stability of the North.”

Miranda shook her head.

“After my father was imprisoned,” Miranda said slowly, clearly upset, leaning against the fence, “His Majesty has dispatched special officials and nobles to Coldhold and increased the standing army at Dragonstalker Fortress in an effort to stabilize the situation in the North.”

"Even if I am captured—the North will not be so badly affected that it cannot even support the logistics and support of the fortress."

"Don't worry, after the lesson learned twelve years ago," Wyman sighed slowly, offering words of comfort rather than substance, "His Majesty will not let his guard down."

“But war is inevitable, isn’t it?” Cohen’s voice came in a low, dejected tone: “Because of us.”

No one speaks.

A silent sense of loss and despair permeated the prison cell.

Thales frowned.

Something's not quite right.

He had overlooked something regarding the ownership of the North.

“Sigh,” Cohen sighed in frustration, slamming the back of his head against the ground twice. “Damn sword of calamity…we shouldn’t have come here.”

And then, Cohen thought sadly to himself: If only we had listened to Raphael and disappeared immediately…

Upon hearing the name of the Sword of Calamity, Thales suddenly looked up.

Wait, there's still one more point of doubt.

Nikolai told him that the Sword of Calamity was behind the assassinations of the two princes—Thales in front of the fortress and Moral in the Star Kingdom.

This led to the involvement of Archduke Peffert.

The former was intelligence passed on to him by Kaslan, while the latter was an investigation sent to the stars by the king himself.

Now that the former has been proven to be a lie—the Sword of Calamity has nothing to do with the Magic Gun incident—then the latter…

Thales frowned, his mind continuing to race.

Having experienced the panic of the assassination attempt, the turmoil in Gu's butcher shop, the disbelief in the carriage in Shanliu City, and now the deep contemplation in prison, the originally confusing clues have gradually become clear. One by one, the conjectures and elements are slowly being incorporated into that incomplete and chaotic puzzle.

Only a few pieces left.

“I’m starting to understand,” the little prince said, squinting his eyes and nodding absently. “How Rumba’s plan unfolds.”

Miranda raised her head, her sharp eyes fixed on the prince.

"What?" The guard grimaced in pain, rubbing his right arm against the ground as if trying to straighten it.

Cohen shook his head, only to find once again, embarrassingly, that no one was responding to his words.

But this time Thales quickly came to his rescue.
The second prince looked serious and spoke slowly as he pondered.

“Half a month ago, Duke Val Arend’s conspiracy at the Palace of Restoration was exposed,” Thales’s voice echoed in the small cell, his tone ethereal: “The fact that Rumba killed Moral has been fully revealed.”

It all starts here.

"At that time, Lombard made up his mind that he would not rest until King Nuen and his entire army crushed him," the second prince struggled to his feet, looked up in the dim light, staring blankly at the pitch-black ceiling, the cold face of Grand Duke Lombard vaguely appearing before his eyes:
"A desperate gamble, a counterattack from the brink of defeat."

Seeing the prince's serious expression, Cohen and Miranda exchanged glances, while Wyatt sighed.

The little rascal bit his lower lip, on the verge of tears.

Rumba's behavior in the carriage flashed through his mind.

Chaman Lumba.

Thales told himself: This terrifying Northern tyrant, in the most dangerous situation, gradually collected scarce chips and pieces, and in a limited time, completed a counterattack game with no way out.

“Pefit bribed the Shadow Shield to try to assassinate me in front of the fortress and frame Lumba, but he failed,” Thales’ thoughts became clearer and clearer. He said calmly, “Why would Grand Duke Pefit betray Lumba? At first, I thought that the cowardly Pefit was afraid that he would be exposed because of Lumba, so he chose to strike first.”

“Pefit of Fengzhao City?” Cohen asked doubtfully. “First King Nuen, then Lumba, and finally betrayed Lumba—who is he really on?”

“It doesn’t seem that simple now,” Thales’ pupils slowly narrowed, as if he could see Pefit’s hysterical state at the last moment: “I’m afraid Pefit was terrified by Rumba’s last desperate gamble, so he tried to end Rumba’s madness in one fell swoop with my death and the power of the stars before Rumba dragged him to hell.”

"After suffering a setback at the fortress at the hands of the magic-wielding troops, Rumba pursued the assassin all the way, and finally, he found the Shadow Shield," Thales recalled the fair-skinned northerner codenamed "The Finger," his interactions with Rumba, and the scene of him menacingly reciting the phrase "The Shadow Never Dies," a sense of unease creeping into his heart: "However, Rumba chose to make peace with the Shadow Shield and begin a new cooperation—the target should be King Nunn."

"The Shadow Shield, it's them again?" Cohen's expression changed, revealing surprise: "Good heavens—do they really not want to stay in the Western Continent anymore?"

Thales shook his head absently, ignoring the guard.

The latter was thus once again put in an awkward position.

"At the same time, Lumba began to contact other allies," Thales took a deep breath, sorting out and reconstructing the conspiracy one by one: "Marquis Sles Bemula, who has a cooperative relationship with King Nunn, Ulad, who is the underground force and order officer of Dragonstreet, and even the famous former White Blade Guard commander Kaslan Lumba—I don't know how he found these people."

No.

A voice whispered in Thales's heart: Actually, you know.

You've always known.

You just don't dare to think about it.

The lights in the cell flickered eerily, causing the light and shadow to tremble.

Miranda stared intently at Thales, her eyes filled with astonishment.

As Thales spoke, even the six guards in the cell gradually turned their heads to listen to the prince's reasoning.

Thales let out a long sigh, feeling that the future was bleak and uncertain.

He roused himself and continued, "Through Kaslan's channels, Lumba betrayed Pefit—another mastermind behind Moral's death—to King Nunn."

The thought of Kaslan's magnanimous and generous image, combined with his betrayal and hypocrisy, made Thales feel very uncomfortable.

"So, under the instigation of that Marquis of Cornmus, both King Nunn and I focused our attention on Pefit, on revenge, and on the treacherous maneuvering with the Grand Dukes," Thales recalled the smiling Marquis and the dazzling duel, his eyes growing increasingly solemn.

"Chaman Lumba, taking advantage of King Nuen's inattention, hid in the shadows to accumulate strength and formulate a plan."

Rumba, wiping his sword blade, recounted the tragedy of the Rumba family twelve years ago with a blank expression, appearing before Thales once more. Thales's gaze slowly sharpened.

King Nuen VII used ruthless schemes and tactics to completely erode the Black Sand Territory and the Lombard family.

Meanwhile, Chaman Lumba, the young nobleman from the North under the protection of his father and brothers, grew into the new Grand Duke of Black Sands amidst the darkness and bloodshed left behind by Nuen.

Thales unconsciously clenched his fist slightly and adjusted his breathing.

“First of all, it seems that Lumba used two thousand men to escort me to Dragon City,” Thales shook his head, shaking off his thoughts and returning to the present, “but in reality, he used me to escort his loyal warriors to Dragon City.”

Thales couldn't help but recall the Viscount Cambida's respectful escort along the way, and at the same time, the moment when he ruthlessly ordered the crossbowmen to kill him.

"Secondly, Rumba also used Caslan's channels and the Sword of Calamity as a cover to lure the heir of the Duke of the North, Miss Miranda Aarond, to Dragonstreet."

“He even dares to use the Tower of the End,” Miranda sighed softly, “He’s really meddling in everything…”

A gust of cold wind howled past the cell, its mournful sound echoing through the crack under the thick door, interrupting Miranda's words.

“Their division of labor is very clear,” Thales said, noticing the little rascal shivering in the corner behind him. He unconsciously shifted his body to block the cold wind as he continued, “Kaslan delivers carefully crafted intelligence to King Nunn and brings in a scapegoat; Shadow Shield finds him the world’s best assassins and arranges the assassination; Marquis Bemula bewitches the king in the palace and monitors the situation; and Urad uses the black market to disguise the Black Sand Territory’s army as a patrol, preparing supplies and arranging their entry into the city.”

"Doesn't he think this plan is too ambitious?" Wyman asked, his face contorted with discontent. "If any part of it goes wrong..."

"Whoosh—" Another gust of cold wind blew, even louder than before.

The imprisoned men fell silent.

Until Miranda broke the silence again.

“There are two questions that I still can’t answer,” Miss Aaron said calmly.

Cohen raised an eyebrow: "What?"

"The army," the black-haired female swordsman raised her head, the dirt on her face not diminishing her heroic spirit in the slightest, "and calamities."

Thales' eyes lit up, and he looked up to meet Miranda's gaze.

A sense of exhilaration arises from the feeling that "talking to smart people is so easy."

“I’ve had this question from the beginning,” the prince nodded firmly. “From weakening the enemy to seeking allies, from planning to final implementation, Lumba has done everything he could. He just needs to leave the rest to the Shadow Shield, go home, lather up in a bath, and pray that King Nunn’s head rolls.”

Cohen raised an eyebrow.

Thales wore a thoughtful expression:

"But he not only came to Dragon Sky City in person, but also brought an army—just to capture the two of you?"

"Is there anything in Dragonsreach that he absolutely needs to accomplish with an army?" Wyatt couldn't help but ask. "Sack and destroy Dragonsreach? Or capture and threaten the other grand dukes in Valhalla, and make them kings?"

“No, it won’t happen,” a small female voice timidly rang out from the corner: “Dragon Sky City is the capital. The Prime Minister and the General Order’s patrol team, the Palace Guard directly under the Hall of Heroes, and the White Blade Guard directly under the King’s command, number between two thousand and three thousand five hundred. If Walton’s private army is mobilized, they can even gather a conscripted force of nearly ten thousand in a short time. Add to that the layers of city gates and terrain… two thousand people simply cannot take down a single city gate—King Nightwing proved this three hundred years ago.”

Thales paused, then looked at the girl in the corner along with the others.

The little rascal snapped out of her daze and realized that everyone was watching her. She turned pale with nervousness and shrank back into the corner.

“And another thing,” Thales realized and quickly came to her rescue, “the four Grand Dukes are not pushovers that Rumba can easily manipulate…each of them is no ordinary person.”

Miranda nodded in agreement, saying, "As long as Rumba isn't a fool, he wouldn't do something like that, as if he wanted to die even faster."

“Two thousand people, two thousand people who can’t fight or arrest anyone,” Cohen seemed much better. He tilted his head back, his eyes darting around. “They can’t just be here to die, can they? Some kind of evil god ritual that requires two thousand lives as sacrifices or something…”

The entire cell fell silent.

Everyone else turned to look at Cohen.

"what?"

Cohen noticed the stares, and his expression froze on his face.

“Well… it’s often mentioned in novels and bard poems…” The guard seemed a little embarrassed, and he chuckled dryly, “Of course, I was just saying.”

Wyman withdrew his disdainful gaze, turned his head, and said with concern, "Moreover, with such a large commotion of two thousand men, how exactly did they manage to send the army into the city?"

“This is the second question,” Miranda continued, her eyes filled with seriousness: “Calamity.”

Thales' expression darkened, and he remained silent.

“From the devastation and chaos to the assassination and entry into the city, Rumba’s timing was impeccable,” Miranda said, her brow furrowing deeply. “It was almost like…”

Miranda raised her head, glanced around at the others, and then said solemnly:

"It was as if disaster was conspiring with him."

Upon hearing the name of the calamity, the little rascal seemed to remember something and bit his lip in grievance.

Cohen's expression changed, and he seemed to be deep in thought.

At that moment, the guard leader spoke again.

“Alright, you lot,” he said coldly, walking to the middle of the corridor and glancing around at the cells. “You’ve talked long enough. Even death row inmates deserve this much treatment.”

“Now,” the guard leader turned and looked directly at Thales, “you better shut up.”

Thales frowned, preparing to argue his case, when suddenly there was a knock on the thick door separating the cell from the outside world.

As the thick door opened, the cold wind and light once again entered the small cells.

Another soldier from Black Sand Territory, dressed in patrol uniform, entered the cell, seemingly to deliver an order.

Thales' heart tightened. He shifted his body and leaned against the fence, trying to get a better look at what was happening outside. The little rascal followed him cautiously.

The same goes for Cohen, Miranda, and Wyman.

The messenger carefully closed the thick door before turning around, pulling out a scroll, and handing it to the guard leader.

"The Grand Duke has arrived at Valhalla. This is his order," the messenger whispered, his eyes lowered, as he approached the guard's ear. "Execute it immediately."

The guard leader frowned, opened the sealing wax on the scroll, and checked the seal on it.

A moment later, the guard's expression changed drastically. He suddenly raised his head and looked at the messenger.

"This is real?"

The guard leader stared grimly at the new messenger: "Execute them on the spot? All of them?"

The draft is back to life!
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(End of this chapter)