Kingdom Bloodline

Chapter 224 The Little Rascal's "Comfort"

The little rascal sat blankly on a wooden crate, watching in a daze as the White Blade Guards bustled around him, treating patients, changing clothes, and discussing matters, making final preparations before their departure.

They all treated her with utmost respect, and even in the busiest times, they never forgot to clear out a resting place for her, ensuring she had plenty of clean water and food.

She was very sleepy.

But the fear and tension that constantly assaulted her mind acted like an alarm bell, waking her from the brink of sleep every time.

This made her feel like she was living in a state between dreaming and waking.

But that's not wrong, is it? The little rascal lowered his head and asked himself bitterly.

From last night until now, hasn't everything I've experienced been a nightmare?
But myself...

The little rascal sniffed and touched his face, which had been wiped clean.

She sat alone on the wooden crate, watching people come and go.

Although the clothes she had just put on were warm, she felt that she had never felt so cold before.

Feeling lost and lonely.

Without anything to rely on.

Just now.

"You're here."

A low sigh was heard.

The little rascal turned around and, to his surprise, saw Thales walking over with a bitter expression.

The second prince of Xingchen didn't stand on ceremony and plopped down on the empty ground next to her.

“Tails,” the little rascal said, somewhat surprised and delighted, “how did you…”

Thales was in a daze. He picked up a piece of bread from the plate next to the little rascal, completely ignoring the angry look on the face of a White Blade Guard member in the distance.

“The food they’re preparing for the Star People is terrible—the priests are also from the North,” Thales casually took a bite of his fluffy bread—the bread offered to the temple was indeed different—and buried half his face in it, humming and mumbling, “I’m just here to share yours.”

The little rascal stared at him blankly.

Thales gritted his teeth and pulled his face out of the bread with all his might.

The second prince didn't look up; he just chewed hard while staring down at the half-eaten bread in his hand.

His eyes were unfocused.

The little rascal looked at him like this, blinked, and for a moment seemed to have forgotten a lot of his own troubles.

“You weren’t with them,” Thales swallowed a mouthful of bread without a second thought, feeling his stomach slowly fill up, and gestured towards Nicolai and Myrk, who were discussing something in the distance: “They weren’t nice to you?”

The little rascal looked up and hesitated before glancing at the two people in the distance.

“No, they respect me,” the girl shook her head, almost shaking her glasses off, then quickly pressed her hand to her nose, saying aggrievedly, “That’s why I’m scared.”

The disheveled girl bit her lip: "You know, they were all there, they all know..."

“It doesn’t matter anymore,” Thales’s voice suddenly rang out.

The little rascal glanced at the prince with surprise.

Thales held the bread in his hand, staring straight ahead, but his eyes were unfocused.

It only chews occasionally.

“Whatever happened in the Hall of Heroes,” Thales said bitterly, narrowing his eyes, “what does it matter now?”

He shook his head indifferently: "After we escape this nightmare, none of this matters anymore."

Thales was lost in thought.

There is only one point.

We can escape nightmares, but nightmares will not let us go.

“Tails,” the little rascal put his hands on his sides and leaned forward worriedly, “Are you...are you alright?”

Thales snapped out of his daze and glanced at her.

“No,” Thales lowered his head and sighed deeply, “I’m not well.”

The little rascal smacked his lips timidly, looked at Thales, and blinked helplessly.

"Little slippery man."

Thales stared at the wooden box beneath the girl, gazing blankly at her small feet dangling in the air.

“You know,” the prince said absentmindedly, “I came here on a mission, even though it wasn’t my own choice.”

The little rascal stared at him blankly, unsure how to react.

“But I failed,” he concluded dryly.

His voice was filled with hesitation and pain.

The little rascal simply nodded instinctively.

Thales suddenly burst out laughing.

“And now we have to run away, leaving behind a mess,” his laughter was desolate and forlorn, making the little rascal feel a pang of sadness: “and then slink away in disgrace.”

Thales listlessly put the bread he had only taken two bites of back onto the plate, leaned back, and rested his back against the wooden box where the little rascal was sitting.

He stared silently at the dim ceiling, vaguely recognizing the mural above—three blurry figures emerging from a pale sphere.

This must be a place belonging to the gods.

Thales thought absentmindedly.

According to High Priest Holm, the Moon Goddess probably wouldn't care about or be bothered by these mortal disputes.

If only I could be like them, indifferent to everything.

Thales gave a wry smile, then his expression relaxed again.

The little rascal watched him quietly, without saying a word.

Like a docile kitten.

“You know what,” Thales continued, staring at the ceiling, his gaze unfocused, his voice ethereal, as if through a veil, “that Exter might very well use my assassination of the king as a pretext to send troops south—and not just one grand duke.”

The little rascal nodded slightly:

"Ah."

Thales' vision blurred, and he seemed to see the figures of Arakka and Sonia, and the figures of the Fury Guard falling one by one: "Dragon Fortress may fall, the North may fall, we can't stop them."

"Ah."

“Many people will die,” Thales seemed to see countless deaths again, in abandoned houses, in manors, on streets, in birch forests, in front of fortresses, and in Dragonstreet—which made him feel even more tired and weary. “They die in war, in famine, in chaos, in a world without order or reason.”

"Ah."

"Furthermore, because of the mission—and the incompetence and failure of the heir, the Starry Sky royal family will likely face the most severe accusations and blows in its history, and the nobles are all hoping for this opportunity," the prince said casually, as if it were a trivial matter.

"Ah."

“And Rumba, Rumba will get whatever he wants, whatever it may be.” Thales rested his head on his arms and said blankly, “He is the ultimate victor, standing on our defeat—you know, I even made a lot of noise in his tent, mocking him for being despicable, shameless, and heartless.”

"Ah."

Thales gave a cold, ambiguous laugh.

“You little rascal,” his voice grew lower and heavier, “I have failed—and I am powerless to stop it.”

"Ah."

“I always thought I could do it,” Thales said with a wry smile, recalling Gilbert’s earnest teachings in the Mindis Hall: “I’m not exactly smart, but I’m not too stupid either, and I also have the help of Putila and the others…”

“Hmm.” Thales suddenly felt a pang of sadness.

“But I can’t do it,” the prince said bitterly, as if his tongue weighed a ton: “It’s too difficult.”

The little rascal jumped down from the wooden crate, sat down next to him, and nodded slightly: "Mm."

Thales closed his eyes tightly and let out a long breath.

An overwhelming sense of frustration and resentment welled up inside me.

“It’s not just Rumba, it’s not just King Nuen…”

"The arrogant Secret Service always wants to control everything..."

"A so-called father who acts arbitrarily never cares about the wishes and feelings of others..."

“They always catch me off guard,” Thales rubbed his temples, as if venting a month’s worth of frustration. “I really want to do something…”

"Ah."

“Of course, they’ll probably blame me for being too clever and ruining their plans,” Thales then sneered, adding sarcastically, “Of course, if it weren’t for me, they’d probably be celebrating their victory in some corner.”

"Ah."

Thales sighed.

“And I have neither the right nor the standing to criticize them,” the prince said forlornly. “Just like you, I am nothing at all.”

"……Um"

"Stop saying 'um'."

"Ah."

"Okay, it seems you really are spacing out."

"Hmm—ah?"

The little rascal looked up as if he had just woken up.

Thales leaned against the wooden crate, turned his head, and stared at the frightened girl with a helpless smile in his eyes.

The little rascal lowered his head in embarrassment, covering his face with his hands: "Um, I just..."

Thales exhaled through his nose and smiled slightly.

"never mind."

He shook his head helplessly: "Okay, thank you for your kind 'comfort,' and thank you for patiently listening to my complaints..."

But at that moment, Thales suddenly felt a weight on his shoulder.

He turned his head in surprise and saw the little rascal come close to him, open his small arms, one in front and one behind, and tightly hug his neck.

Thales stared blankly at the little rascal so close to him, at her clean, white face after washing—only her large eyes behind her thick-rimmed glasses stood out.

"What are you doing?" he asked, bewildered.

The little rascal pressed her chest tightly against Thales' shoulder, her expression sincere and serious: "To comfort you."

"Comfort?" Thales paused, puzzled, then felt a mix of amusement and exasperation.

“A long, long time ago, my mother did this,” the little rascal tightened her arms around Thales’ neck, her expression particularly stubborn and serious: “When I was sick or hungry, my mother would hold me—I didn’t want to, but she would hold me from the side like that, from dark to dawn.”

Thales, who was being held in her arms, narrowed his eyes: "You remember your mother?"

The little rascal rested his chin on Thales' shoulder: "Hmm, but I don't remember very clearly."

Seeing her serious expression, Thales instinctively asked, "And then? What happened to her?"

The little rascal's body trembled slightly.

Her expression darkened.

“She sold me,” the little rascal said sadly. “She was very poor. She went to work very early every day and didn’t come home until very late, with very little food.”

“She has no choice but to sell me, otherwise,” the little girl said quietly, her face showing an unusual stubbornness, “otherwise she won’t be able to survive.”

Thales sighed.

Nikolai, who was in the distance, saw this scene: the two children were huddled together.

The Meteorite frowned and strode out.

But a hand gripped his shoulder.

“They’re just children.” With a cold expression, Michael pressed on Nicolai’s shoulder and shook his head slightly.

Nikolai gave his former colleague a deep look, then said nothing more.

"So, this is how you comfort me?" Thales chuckled softly.

“I have a suggestion: when you grow up, you should change this habit—you can’t comfort people like that.”

The little rascal nodded innocently and said, "Oh."

“Alright, let me go,” Thales patted the little rascal’s hand and said with a smile, “before Nikolai rushes over with his knife.”

The little rascal then released the little prince.

"Um... don't worry about failing." She seemed unsure of the effectiveness of her reassurance, and continued to murmur:

"A momentary victory or defeat is but a fleeting moment, while a century-long game is the foundation for eternity."

Thales raised an eyebrow, pondering the words: "Who... said that?"

The little rascal's eyes lit up, seemingly overjoyed to have found a topic that would interest Thales: "Your King."

Thales frowned: "Ours?"

"Ah."

“The ‘wise ruler’ of over a hundred years ago, Mindis Star III,” the little rascal nodded, seemingly entering a reading state with her eyes shining again: “He ascended the throne after the nightmarish and bloody reign of the ‘Red King’ and governed the country with superb political skills, safely weathering the Fourth Continental War.”

Thales' heart skipped a beat.

Mindis III.

“I remember now, Mindis III’s reign was much later than that of Midil IV,” Thales thought to himself, “but in the currency of the stars, Mindis’s portrait was engraved on silver coins, which were worth more than Midil’s bronze coins.”

and many more.

A wise ruler?

This title...

Both King Nuen and Chaman Lumba mentioned him, their words tinged with emotion.

On the way to the North, Putilai also mentioned that Mindis III was the one who spearheaded the alliance across the sea and between the two countries—thus changing the nature of continental warfare.

"A game of chess that lasts a hundred years is the foundation for all ages?" Thales murmured.

Thales turned his head sharply.

“Tell me about Mindis III,” the little prince said, his serious expression seemingly startling the mischievous boy. “What did he do to be called a ‘wise ruler’?”

"After Grand Duke Solon, the library's collection increased very little, but," the little rascal said timidly, "although he is called a 'wise ruler' in the Star Kingdom, but..."

"Among the famous Star Kings, the Northlanders most admired the 'Oathkeeper' Midil IV, who went north alone to aid the enemy, followed by the Restoration King who expanded the territory. On the contrary, they did not think much of the 'wise king' who did not achieve much in terms of military achievements. In fact, the Northlanders' 'Brief Account of the Political Affairs of the End of the Calendar 500-600' even said that he was a weak king who compromised with the common people."

Thales felt a slight jolt in his heart.

The King of Weakness?

He realized what was happening, and his eyes sharpened.

“Go on,” Thales said seriously.

(End of this chapter)