Kingdom Bloodline

Chapter 226: The King's Killer

Just as Thales and his companions were fleeing the city gates, a tense standoff, rarely seen since the founding of Exter, was unfolding in front of the Hall of Heroes within the Palace of Heroes.

In the flickering firelight, the guards of the four dukes and the retinues of a few special nobles—the other nobles at the banquet were not allowed to bring their own retinues—stood together with the remaining White Blade Guards and palace guards. With the tacit understanding unique to the northerners, they formed a battle formation, bows drawn and swords unsheathed, their expressions grim as they blocked the entrance to the Hall of Heroes, protecting the nobles in this oval stone hall.

Opposite them were a large number of unfamiliar soldiers of unknown identity, who firmly guarded the corner and the corridor.

Their men, all dressed in patrol uniforms and equipment, stood densely packed, filling almost every doorway outside the hall. These soldiers trod on the historic floor tiles, and many couldn't help but gaze with a mixture of curiosity and awe at the surrounding decor, seemingly unfamiliar with this palace of such significance to the North.

Even more strangely, the leader of this group of uninvited guests was a short-haired female swordsman with a calm and fearless gaze, her right hand constantly flicking her fingers on the hilt of her sword.

Illuminated by the brazier, Grand Duke Ronnie of Qiyuan City emerged from the dimly lit Hall of Heroes with a face full of coldness and anger. The guards and attendants on both sides made way for him, but their vigilance never wavered.

The long-haired Duke of Qiyuan waved away an attendant who was about to drape a cloak over him, and coldly stared at the uninvited guests before him, his gaze lingering on their swords.

"Show yourself, there's no point in hiding anymore."

Grand Duke Kulikun Ronnie withdrew his sharp gaze and said coldly, "Even through three stone steps, we can smell the disgusting stench unique to your territory—although we are both from the North, your soldiers are quite different."

The soldiers in the first row of the "patrol" exchanged a few glances, but they seemed well-mannered and remained silent, only coldly staring at the guards and garrison defending the Hall of Heroes.

"Where is the Fire Knight?" Grand Duke Ronnie sneered, not even glancing at the female leader in charge: "Whatever you intend to do—be it besieging Valhalla or assassinating the Grand Duke—you don't need to send a weak woman to lead the troops, do you?"

The short-haired female swordsman's face turned cold.

Her right hand stopped moving and gripped the sword hilt tightly, taking a defiant step forward.

“Be careful, Your Grace,” she said in an unfriendly tone, her eyes filled with contempt and disdain, “your life is in the hands of this weakling.”

“Little girl,” Grand Duke Ronnie shook his head dismissively, “go home and weave cloth. Longswords are heavy.”

Sonorous!

The female swordsman's weapon suddenly came out of its sheath.

Like a flock of birds startled by a bowstring, the guards around the Grand Duke, whether they were the White Blade Guard, the Palace Guard, or the attendants from Qiyuan City, all rushed forward in a tense manner!

But they stopped in their tracks: Archduke Ronnie raised his right hand, firmly blocking them at his side.

The female swordswoman stared at the Duke of Qiyuan City with a frosty expression, her sword tip poised at the Duke of Ronnie's throat.

The Grand Duke remained motionless, staring back at her without flinching, as if the sword pressed against his throat was not the only weapon at hand.

“It doesn’t matter,” Ronnie said coldly. “Let’s see if our little darling really has the skill to wield a sword.”

A cold glint flashed in his eyes: "And the audacity to kill—to murder a grand duke."

The female swordsman's gaze turned cold, and her sword pierced forward without hesitation, touching her skin.

Ronnie's pupils contracted.

He felt a chill on his neck; blood was already flowing.

Behind the Grand Duke, the gasps of his attendants could be clearly heard.

But Ronnie's resolute face remained expressionless.

Just then, a deep, resonant male voice came from the "patrol team".

“Be polite, Chloeshi,” a middle-aged nobleman in military uniform with a weathered face and steady steps slowly stepped out of the crowd. “We are not here to fight.”

Behind him followed two nobles, one dressed in plate armor with a stern face, and the other tall and thin with sharp eyes.

The female swordsman, Chloeshe, scoffed lightly before stepping back and sheathing her sword.

Ronnie slowly lowered his head, reached out and wiped his neck, looking at the blood on his hand with a subtle expression.

The patrol soldiers made way for the newcomers.

“There’s no need to be so tense, gentlemen,” the tall, thin young nobleman smiled slightly and bowed politely to the guards. “We are not enemies and should not draw our swords against each other.”

Ronnie lowered his hand, his gaze sweeping over the three newcomers, and gave a dismissive snort.

“As expected, surprises never come late,” Grand Duke Ronnie’s face grew increasingly cold as he stared intently at the middle-aged nobleman.

"Chaman Lumba".

His entourage all frowned.

Grand Duke Lombard nodded almost imperceptibly.

The two dukes' eyes met in mid-air, one cold as ice, the other calm and indifferent.

The next second, Ronnie's gaze shifted back to the female swordsman.

“Hey, Chloeshi, is that so?” Grand Duke Ronnie changed the subject, his eyebrows arching with amusement, a different look appearing in his eyes: “Your sword is very steady.”

He looked at Chroeshe's longsword, felt the pain in his neck, and nodded approvingly: "Very brave."

But Chloe simply stared at him coldly, without saying a word.

Grand Duke Ronnie's eyes flickered.

My wife passed away a year ago.

“Both the Ronnie family and Qiyuan City are lacking a Grand Duchess,” Grand Duke Ronnie said, his gaze sweeping over Chloeshi from head to toe without restraint, before asking seriously, “Are you interested?”

Rumba frowned slightly as he watched their interaction.

Kroeshe also narrowed her eyes.

“Go find a docile weaver, Your Grace,” she sheathed her longsword, her words cold and ruthless, “so that I won’t…”

Kroeshe made no attempt to hide her glance at the Grand Duke's waist: "Chop off your 'family heirloom'."

Grand Duke Ronnie laughed heartily, but his gaze toward Chloesch grew increasingly subtle.

"To openly poach my subordinates," Grand Duke Lombard said calmly, "isn't that inappropriate?"

Grand Duke Ronnie turned to Rumba, his resolute face losing all warmth from his previous smile: "Asking won't hurt you."

Rumba raised an eyebrow.

The tall nobleman beside him, Viscount Cambida, whispered a few words in the Grand Duke's ear.

"What, if I hadn't taken this sword," Grand Duke Ronnie pulled his long hair back to his neck and said coldly, "would you have never shown up again?"

“Of course not,” Rumba said, his expression unchanged. “I just wanted to wait for everyone to arrive.”

At this moment, another voice broke into the conversation amidst the swords and spears.

“No need for that,” a smooth, experienced voice cleverly interjected during the pause in their conversation: “We’ve all been waiting for your arrival.”

A man with a bowl cut stepped out from behind Grand Duke Ronnie—Grand Duke of the Tower of Reconstruction, Perseus Trudida of the Trudida family, with a playful smile, but his eyes were full of vigilance and coldness.

"When was the last time we met, Chaman?" Trudida asked with a smile. "Twelve years ago?"

Rumba looked at his neighbor, the Reconstruction Tower, who was also located south of Exter and adjacent to the Black Sand Territory, with a look of apprehension and deep thought in his eyes.

“Five years ago,” he said calmly, “when Starry Sky was at war with the orcs, we three dukes in the south held an emergency meeting.”

“Oh? Is that so?” Trudida slapped his bowl cut and said in a flash of realization, “That’s right, there would be no such thing without profit, that’s just how you are.”

He chuckled.

"The one who ignored the king's invitation, yet led thousands of men to storm the Hall of Heroes only when the king disappeared and Dragon City was in chaos—the Grand Duke of Black Sands?" Grand Duke Trudida's protruding chin twitched slightly as he looked at the soldiers around Rumba and asked meaningfully.

"This is why I have come to see you all," Grand Duke Lombard said slowly. "We are facing an extraordinary situation that concerns your vital interests."

Grand Duke Ronnie turned his head away and scoffed disdainfully.

"An unusual situation?" another deep voice entered the conversation: "What do you mean by that?"

The rugged-looking, classically dressed Rebian Aurelius also appeared at the entrance of the Hall of Heroes. The Grand Duke of Wielan's beard was incredibly striking and left a deep impression.

At this moment, he stared coldly at Rumba, his eyes filled with suspicion and wariness.

Rumba's gaze swept over the three grand dukes one by one.

“The King died last night,” Charman Lumba said casually, as if recounting a trivial matter. “We need to talk—about the future of Exter.”

These words caused quite a stir on both the Black Sand Territory and the Hall of Heroes side.

Viscount Cambida and Chloeshi were disgruntled and suppressed their subordinates.

But Rumba's brows furrowed inwardly. He could clearly see that the three dukes before him remained as composed and unperturbed as ever.

It was as if they already knew everything.

Ok.

It seems to be more difficult than I imagined.

Rumba thought to himself.

But so what?
However, there is another hurdle to overcome.

However, there is another Nunn.

"Oh?"

Finally, an aged voice rang out behind the three dukes. The most senior duke of the city, the bald Rogers Lyco, coughed as he slowly stepped forward: "That is truly unfortunate."

“I think, regarding the king’s death,” the old duke sighed, “you, Chaman, who has suddenly appeared here, have some important news to tell us?”

“As you said, Rogers,” the Grand Duke of Black Sands said solemnly, “I have something to tell you.”

Grand Duke Lyco chuckled, gazing at the floor tiles of Valhalla, and said with amusement, "Then why don't we... talk about it in the Hall of Heroes?"

He raised his eyebrows slightly, stepped aside to let the door of the stone hall open, revealing the flickering light of the brazier: "The five of us are enough."

"We don't need so many pawns."

Upon hearing this, the three dukes from the Hall of Heroes all looked at Rumba, their expressions differing.

But all of them harbored deep suspicion and wariness.

This is Ext.

Rumba sighed softly to himself, then hummed softly.

My Exter.

His gaze gradually focused.

Under the gaze of four high-ranking and powerful Dukes of Exeter, who were on equal footing with him, Charman Lumba calmly reached out and stopped Count Levan and Viscount Cambida behind him from speaking.

“Of course,” he said, his gaze sharpening as he swept over his four colleagues and the guards and palace guards who stood in a semi-circle, firmly guarding the entrance to the Hall of Heroes. He nodded and said, “This matter can only be circulated among the five of us.”

Kroesi cast an inquiring glance at Rumba, but Grand Duke Rumba simply extended his palm and made a downward pressing gesture.
The next second, Chaman Lumba strode forward without hesitation, leaving the Black Sand Territory soldiers' encirclement alone under the gaze of countless people.

He walked past countless gleaming weapons and headed towards the stone gate of the Hall of Heroes.

He walked into the impenetrable ranks of the Valhalla soldiers, leaving them staring at each other in bewilderment.

He walked past Ronnie, who was at the very front, and received a surprised and admiring look from the latter.

He walked past Archduke Aurelius, whose bushy beard caused him to frown, his thoughts unreadable.

He walked past Trudida and Leko, who exchanged a glance, revealing worry and unease.

On the cloak of the Black Sand Grand Duke, the iron fist pattern representing the Rumba family is faintly visible.

It wasn't until he had completely entered the dimly lit Hall of Heroes that the four dukes came to their senses and exchanged glances.

Cambida and Count Levan glared at them fiercely, and Chloesh even tapped the hilt of her sword, the threat unmistakable.

"What do you say?" Trudida rolled his eyes.

Aurelius and Lyco both frowned and remained silent.

“No,” Ronnie said coldly, looking into the dimly lit hall, “let’s see what he has to say.”

Chaman Lumba stood quietly in the Hall of Heroes, beside the long, dark brown table. The large braziers on the six iron racks cast flickering light on his face, making him appear unpredictable.

He knew that just last night, the young Grand Duke Conkley Peffert had his neck broken by King Nunn, just two steps in front of him.

But at this moment, Rumba simply stared quietly ahead, at the head seat at the far end of the rectangular table.

He remembered that throughout the many years of his life, his father and mother had brought him and Harold here countless times to bow and pay their respects to the main seat.

King Nunn Walton VII sat there, in that principal seat, issuing commands to the citizens of Exeter, from the Grand Duke to the officials, from the nobles to the commoners.

The co-ruler, King, sits here and controls the entire Northland—no, most of the Northland, since the northern border of the Stars is not yet in Exter's hands.

His gaze swept across the stone hall, lingering briefly on the dragon-spear banners amidst the clouds that could be seen everywhere.

The gun rack on the innermost shelf, which should have held the Soul-Slaying Spear, was now completely empty.

Just like Walton, who was once at the height of his power, and like the Cloud Dragon Spear that shook the North.

Dragon Spear in the Clouds.

At that moment, Rumba actually wanted to laugh.

“Alright,” Archduke Aurelius’s voice came rudely from behind, “we won’t invite you to sit down.”

“Speak,” the bearded man said coldly.

Rumba closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

Then slowly open your eyes.

“Star Kingdom,” Chaman Lumba slowly turned around to face the four dukes, his eyes sharp: “that Star Prince, and their secret society, meticulously plotted a conspiracy against Exter.”

Grand Duke Ronnie frowned slightly.

“They even took advantage of the disaster,” Lumba said calmly. “Unfortunately, King Nuen died in a conspiracy.”

Leko and Trudida exchanged a knowing glance.

Rumba stepped forward, clenching his fist.

"The Dragon Kingdom is facing unprecedented difficulties," the Grand Duke of Black Sands said coldly, his voice carrying an undeniable authority: "It is time for us to unite."

Rumba finished speaking.

The four dukes looked at each other in bewilderment.

No one said anything.

No one moved.

No one responded.

Several seconds later, the four dukes chuckled in unison.

A light laugh turned into a loud laugh.

The laughter turned into a cold laugh.

The sneer lasted for almost a minute.

Grand Duke Lombard frowned as he watched the dukes' sneers.

Aurelius's smile carried a deep chill, Trudida's smile held a profound and intriguing meaning, while Lyco's smile was forced, perhaps because he didn't want to smile at all.

Only the laughter of Grand Duke Ronnie was the loudest, longest, and coldest, and the knightly crest of the City of Qiyuan shone brightly on his shoulder.

Rumba's expression also turned cold.

Finally, the Grand Duke's laughter subsided.

The next second, Archduke Ronnie stepped forward and stared directly into Rumba's eyes without flinching.

Kulikun Ronnie, with his characteristically bold voice, spoke coldly and without any politeness:

"Go home and fuck yourself, Chaman Lumba."

He spat fiercely, his eyes filled with disdain and contempt, as if they held the icy depths of millennia.

"The regicide."

Hmm, I saw that Dao Xuan'an also tipped 10,000 Qidian coins yesterday, okay...

I'll leave one chapter unfinished for now, to keep track of.



(End of this chapter)