Kingdom Bloodline

Chapter 211 A Game in the Dark (Part 1)

Thales rubbed his forehead in pain.

He felt that his originally clear and well-defined journey to the North had suddenly been drawn into a tangled mess.

Ironically, it was precisely one of Xingchen's own people who brought him to this point.

He really didn't know how to react.

Should we yell "You guys are terrible!" at the secret service?

“As mentioned before,” Raphael’s voice came steadily, “our chosen person has successfully activated the Blood Calamity, and it has found Ramon as planned.”

Thales frowned.

The pre-selected candidates.

Did Black Sword realize that he too had become a pawn?

"But the Blood Calamity behaved strangely: it unleashed its power recklessly. We had assessed its strength against that person beforehand—it didn't have to do it at all."

“That’s strange,” came Morat’s hoarse voice from the disgusting black hole in Raphael’s hand, sounding somewhat tempted. “That serial killer has always been cunning… what is it that makes him risk his life?”

Upon hearing this, the little rascal glanced at Thales curiously, only to be glared at by the latter with a frown.

Damn.

Thales swore he had done his best to control his movements and expressions so as not to give himself away in front of everyone.

I.

He thought to himself: The reason why Giza Trillman lost his composure...

it's me.

And there's Ashida.

That's terrible...

Thales felt his heart pounding faster and faster, maintaining a stiff expression without uttering a word.

“Perhaps that person’s strength has exceeded our expectations, enough to stand up to the calamity head-on,” Raphael whispered. “You know, he’s growing very fast.”

Thales' heart sank: the image of that cold figure holding a sword in one hand flashed before his eyes.

Finally, after a few seconds of silence, the Black Prophet spoke.

"Let's postpone this for now," the Black Prophet said slowly and thoughtfully. "I have a feeling that the truth is more than this, and it will be very interesting—the Blood Calamity, hehe."

Upon hearing this, Thales took a deep breath while trying his best to pretend.

Their tone really seemed like...

It's as if magic users are just pawns to be kneaded at will.

Thales recalled that night on Red Street, the scene of Ashida sitting quietly moving chess pieces in the card room.

Air magic users, and blood magic users...

Sometimes crazy, sometimes wise, they possessed power that was almost unparalleled for a time.

Countless lives within the shield zone... Thales recalled the flesh monsters of Giza and the strange currents of Aishida.

Is it really possible that someone would treat them as pawns?
Moreover—Thales couldn't help but lower his head and glance at his palm.

That was a wound he had made himself with a dagger; it had already closed and was scabbing over.

"What do you mean?" Cohen scratched his head, blinking in confusion. "Why does releasing a mage's power mean risking their life?"

“Don’t ask,” Raphael said nonchalantly, hiding his expression in the darkness where the light didn’t reach. “How to deal with the disaster is the business of the Secret Service.”

“Oh, come on,” Cohen frowned, displeased. “In the past few hundred years, some members of our family have held positions in the Secret Service. Back then, the Secret Service was…”

“Young Master Karabyan!” Raphael suddenly called out, interrupting the guard.

“That’s precisely why, because of your family’s connection to the Secret Service,” Raphael gave Cohen a deep look, his red eyes flashing in the darkness, forcing the guard to swallow the rest of his sentence: “You should be the one keeping your distance from the Secret Service.”

"That's advice."

The black hole in his hand trembled slightly.

Cohen was stunned and speechless.

Miranda looked at Raphael thoughtfully. "And then?" Fearing they would linger on this topic too long, Thales quickly interrupted, "What were the consequences of this unexpected turn of events?"

Wyatt, who was keeping watch by the door, glanced through the crack in the door and then turned to Rolf, giving him a reassuring gesture.

Raphael sighed: "In the madness of the calamity, not only was the Shield Zone destroyed, but the White Blade Guards that went to stop it also suffered a devastating blow, to the point that King Nunn emptied the available troops of Dragonsreach City so thoroughly that he was not even able to defend himself properly."

“King Nuen died too quickly, and Black Sand Territory won too easily,” the young man from the Secret Service continued, “Now, the entire Dragon Sky City is in chaos, and we have lost control of the situation.”

"Isn't this exactly your plan?" Cohen, who had just suffered a humiliating defeat, said with a look of disgust, "To paralyze the defense mechanisms around King Nunn VII."

“That is indeed our purpose in luring disaster,” Raphael said calmly, “but the process should not be like this.”

Miranda raised an eyebrow: "The process?"

Raphael nodded: "In the original plan, from the start to the end, the power of Dragonstreet City and Black Sand Territory should have been kept in balance, and King Nuen and Chaman Lumba should have stood on both sides of the scale."

Thales' heart skipped a beat.

"What do you mean?" The prince raised his head, a sense of doubt creeping into his heart: "Wasn't your original intention to help Lumba kill King Nuen?"

Raphael gave Thales a deep look, his expression solemn.

The black hole on his arm twitched slightly, and the sharp teeth around it seemed to be alive, rubbing against each other a couple of times.

Miranda frowned.

“Of course not—not entirely,” Raphael said seriously. “As I just said, the goal of ‘Dragonblood’ is not revenge, not slaughter, but chaos—and Exter’s predicament.”

“Miko’s cooperation with Lumba is not to help him; Miko plans to assassinate King Nuen, but he doesn’t necessarily have to die.”

In that instant, it seemed as if a spark flashed through Thales' mind.

“But Nuen fell too soon,” he murmured, the image of King Nuen’s head rolling in his mind replaying over and over again. “So, Black Sand Territory won too easily, didn’t it?”

He figured it out.

Raphael looked at Thales with a serious expression, and after a few seconds slowly nodded.

"You mean," Miranda asked instinctively, her eyes gleaming as everyone else looked on with suspicion, "that Rumba and Nunn shouldn't have decided their match so soon?"

“Damn it, can’t you speak a language I can understand?” Cohen punched his right shoulder hard. “You just said the accident happened to both the disaster and Rumba? What was the original plan that didn’t involve the accident?”

Raphael gazed at his former classmate, and couldn't help but recall the image of Cohen roaring and wielding his sword in the Tower.

Looks like this guy has improved too.

It's unclear whether it was the Western Front or the Guard Bureau's doing, or perhaps both.

Raphael sighed and said:

“If Exster is a fierce pack of wolves, then what we did last night was to have one of the wolves challenge the alpha wolf, and let the other members of the pack clearly see the two fight to the death.”

"To achieve this goal, we need to make the fight between the two wolves fierce, long, and evenly matched, rather than creating a new wolf king."

Morat on the other side of the black hole remained silent, simply waiting quietly for his student.

Raphael's pupils contracted in fear. Just then, Thales also raised his head and looked into the eyes of the man from the Secret Society.

“According to our plan, in the duel between Nunn and Lumba, once the balance of power tilts to one side, we will appropriately support the other,” Raphael nodded slightly to the Second Prince, “to ensure that this battle does not end too quickly.”

"For example, if Lumba's plot is discovered in advance, we will provide him with the necessary assistance and intelligence for his next move. Conversely, if King Nuen is at a disadvantage in this coup, we will help him through special means—adapting to the situation until the two sides, who are in a bloodthirsty frenzy, decide the victor."

Cohen sighed, looking exasperated. "After all this talk... Walton and Rumba, Dragonlance and Ironfist, who do you want to win?"

Raphael looked at the guard with a sharp gaze and a solemn expression, which startled Cohen.

"It doesn't matter who wins."

"The important thing is that in the deadly battle between the two, the Secret Society, as a third party, holds a small, inconspicuous weight that can affect the balance of the scales, until both sides bleed to the last drop, and finally achieve the result we want," Raphael said seriously. "The Secret Society will decide who is the survivor of this deadly battle, and whose victory is more in the best interests of the stars, depending on the situation of the struggle."

"A decision?" Thales's expression shifted. "Who will make that decision?"

Raphael turned to him, his red eyes filled with determination:

"I."

I suddenly realized I posted two updates today.

Good heavens!
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(End of this chapter)