Kingdom Bloodline

Chapter 231 Rumba's Plan

For three seconds, no one spoke.

until……

"Stop talking nonsense," Nikolai said, turning his head slightly to reveal the hilt of his sword, his eyes flashing with a fierce light, his words as cold as ice: "Or do you prefer to joke?"

Cohen narrowed his eyes.

Even the little rascal shook his head.

Thales raised an eyebrow and gave an awkward laugh: "But I'm serious..."

He felt a chill run down his spine when he saw the unfriendly and questioning looks on everyone's faces.

The prince could only shake his head in the end: "Alright, let's get to the point..."

“Since King Nunn’s assassination, I have gathered a lot of intelligence while on the run,” Thales sighed, “a lot of details about Lumba’s plan.”

Putila and Raphael exchanged a glance, secretly surprised.

Miranda frowned slightly: "Gathering intelligence while on the run?"

Thales shrugged: "We can't just panic and run for our lives."

Nikolai's gaze sharpened: "For example?"

“For example, Lumba’s true purpose,” Thales’ breathing slowed down, “whether it was the army he didn’t need to bring, or his own appearance, it has far exceeded the scope of what is needed to ‘counterattack Nunn to protect himself’.”

“We discussed this in the cell,” Miranda said shrewdly. “Do you have an answer?”

Under everyone's gaze, Thales lowered his head slightly.

He recalled the oppressive conversation that took place in the carriage.

“When King Nuen died and I fell into Lumba’s hands, he said something to me,” the second prince said absentmindedly, recreating the scene in his mind: “That sentence has been bothering me until just now.”

Raphael unconsciously leaned forward slightly and squinted his eyes.

“Charman Lumba’s exact words were,” Thales said in a rough voice, mimicking the tone of that tyrant:

“'We must go and save this country.'”

Everyone except the little rascal was stunned.

There was silence for a few seconds.

"What?" Putila asked, bewildered.

Raphael and Miranda, meanwhile, were deep in thought.

“Hmph,” Nikolai shook his head and exchanged a glance with Milek: “The self-justification of a shameless man, the sophistry of a regicide.”

But Thales shook his head solemnly.

“No, I can sense it,” the prince exhaled, his eyes filled with seriousness. “He’s serious: Rumba truly believes that what he’s doing is saving Exter.”

The expression on the face of the meteorite slowly froze.

Cohen scratched his head: "Maybe we should stop this guessing game and get straight to the point, saying something I can understand?"

“There’s something wrong with that statement,” Putila said, taking a drag on his cigarette, a glint in his eyes. “What does this country have that needs to be saved?”

"Could it refer to the overthrow of King Nunn?" Miranda crossed her arms and pondered. "And as far as I know, Nunn VII's thirty-year reign instilled both respect and fear in the grand dukes."

"For Lumba, Nunn's death is the rebirth of the nation; they can finally escape the oppression of Walton and Dragonsreach?"

Michael sighed.

But the prince still shook his head.

Thales took a breath and said quietly, "The biggest reason why Lumba wants to overthrow King Nuen is because he is afraid of King Nuen's retaliation against Black Sand Territory. It is for self-preservation."

“But that problem has been solved,” Thales said, looking up and combining the elements in his mind: “King Nunn is dead and will not crawl out of the River of Hell to look for him again.”

Raphael didn't say a word, but suddenly smiled.

“According to Rumba’s original words,” the young man from Miko said with a scrutinizing look, “he was about to ‘go’ to save the country—at this time, King Nuen was already dead, so it doesn’t make sense chronologically.”

Thales nodded absently.

“Unless Rumba has never taken a grammar class and can’t even distinguish between present and future tenses,” Thales said casually.

"Otherwise, what he called saving the country..."

Thales raised his head, his eyes filled with solemnity: "It's not just about overthrowing King Nunn, or even just about getting rid of the oppression of Dragonstreet, or just about changing the king."

He wanted more.

"He wanted unprecedented change."

"I want to 'save this country' in the most thorough way possible."

Everyone fell silent.

“I bet,” Thales exhaled, his tone serious and earnest, “that’s why Rumba brought his army to Dragonsreach, that’s why he’s heading to Valhalla right now—and that’s the key to our counterattack.”

"He'll save the country by taking an army to Valhalla?" Cohen asked doubtfully. "What's he going to do? Slaughter all the nobles in Dragonrise City, from the Grand Duke down to the Earl?"

Putila gave a cold laugh.

“In the first few decades of my life, I learned one thing,” the deputy envoy said quietly, exhaling a puff of smoke, “violence is the quickest, simplest, and least effective of all the means of solving problems—it is best used as a last resort.”

Thales sighed, all the clues becoming clearer in his mind.

“During that memorable journey, I heard another detail.”

All eyes were once again drawn to the prince.

“The Shadow Shield told Lumba,” Thales said quietly, “that when Saridon assassinated King Nunn, he spent a long time searching for the king’s whereabouts.”

Putila suddenly looked up!
It's like I thought of something.

Raphael also opened his mouth in surprise.

Thales lowered his head:

Thank you, Kaslan...

Thank you for giving me Gu's hiding place...

otherwise……

Otherwise, I probably wouldn't have witnessed the meeting between Rumba and the Shadow Shield.

He thought to himself silently.

Wyman raised an eyebrow: "Is there something wrong with it?"

“This is highly inappropriate,” Putila said, his brow furrowed and his voice tense. “To arrange an assassination without being able to determine the target’s location or the timing of the assassination…”

The gaunt man's eyes hardened: "For an assassination operation that requires prior planning and meticulous preparation, this is one of the most fatal and unforgivable mistakes."

"This means... that the assassination attempt on Shadow Shield and Saridon took an unexpected turn."

“Oh,” Cohen slapped his forehead in realization, then gave a thumbs up and said sincerely, “Looks like you’re very experienced, Uncle.”

At that moment, Putila's eyes dimmed.

Thales took a deep breath and looked up.

“The Flying Locust Blade leaped down from Sky Cliff to assassinate the king,” the prince said solemnly. “He had been hiding on Sky Cliff all along.”

Even Ashida and Black Sword failed to spot him.

Thales clenched his fist, thinking and organizing as he went.

“How did he get up there?” Nikolai asked suspiciously. “Even at night, it would be impossible for Saridon to climb up Sky Cliff unnoticed.”

Thales shook his head.

"It does not matter."

“The important thing is,” the second prince’s pupils contracted slightly, “that the Cliff of Sky connects to only one place.”

Lord Mehrke, who had served as the King's official for many years, had a flicker of emotion in his eyes and gave the answer: "Valhalla."

No one spoke, but everyone knew what it meant.

“In other words,” Thales nodded slightly, “Baannet Saridon intended to enter Valhalla from Skycliff to assassinate King Nunn.”

"Valhalla is the place where King Nunn was originally planned to die."

Raphael gave a strange smile and quietly watched the prince.

Thales pondered in a daze: "After Nunn's assassination, Rumba appeared out of the blue with an army and even tried to silence us—but he shouldn't have done something so unwise and suspicious."

Snapped!
Thales slammed his fist into his own palm, his eyes gleaming.

“Now I understand why Rumba and the army were there,” he exhaled, “because the assassination plan went awry: King Nunn shouldn’t have died in the Shield District, but in Valhalla—just like the unexpected turn of events in the Dragonblood plan.”

Raphael gave a silent, cold laugh.

“Sariton couldn’t find the king in Valhalla, so Lumba had to risk sending troops into the Shield District to anxiously search for King Nunn,” Thales clenched his fist. “And after confirming that Sarridon’s assassination was successful, his first thought was to kill the witnesses to silence them.”

Nikolai, however, turned pale and looked pained.

“Your Majesty Nunn,” the Meteorite said bitterly, “when he was fighting the Calamity, he should have been safely in the Palace of Heroes, but he chose to set off with the White Blade Guard and come outside the palace.”

"He said he believed that the place where the White Blade Guard was located was the safest place in the world."

Michael lowered his head, his voice hoarse: "We have all failed our duty."

Thales' eyes dimmed: "Choosing to leave the palace, although it may inevitably lead to the tragedy of being assassinated, may be the wisest decision the old king made before his death."

"It has left us with a glimmer of hope."

The guard raised his hand.

"What does this mean?" Cohen waved his hand, deep in thought. "Rumba doesn't want people outside the palace to know that Nunn is dead?"

Miranda looked up, her eyes filled with coldness.

"If King Nunn dies mysteriously in Valhalla according to Lumba's original plan," the female swordsman asked coldly, "what would happen then?"

Putila shook her head: "It's not about how the situation will unfold..."

Thales hummed in agreement, several high-ranking figures flashing through his mind. He pondered for a moment before continuing the deputy envoy's words: "But rather, they were four friendly and amiable old friends who were also in Valhalla at the time..."

"It's up to them what they'll do."

Thales abruptly raised his eyes and looked at everyone. "Let's go," he said decisively.

"Where to?" Nicolai squinted.

Thales smiled.

“Go and verify my final conjecture,” the prince said softly, “find Rumba’s weakness.”

----

Meanwhile, in the Hall of Heroes in Valhalla, the conversation among the five grand dukes grew increasingly tense.

"Regarding His Majesty's misfortune..."

Chaman Lumba looked coldly at the four grand dukes before him: "It seems you have something to say?"

Ronnie from Qiyuan City snorted coldly:
"Don't treat your peers like fools."

Grand Duke Ronnie coldly replied, "We are not those noble background figures in chivalric novels who only serve to highlight the protagonist and give their daughters to him for nothing."

Rumba squinted.

“As His Majesty’s greatest enemy, Charman,” the bearded Aurelius raised his chin, crossed his arms, and said solemnly, “you knew of his death so much earlier than the rest of us. That’s quite remarkable.”

Grand Duke of Black Sands gave a soft snort.

"And not too early, not too late, appearing shortly after His Majesty's assassination?" Grand Duke Trudida hid half his face in the shadows beyond the firelight, stroked his beard, and said sarcastically, "It seems the horses of Black Sand Territory are really fast, almost catching up with dragons—how about selling me some?"

Grand Duke Lombard raised the corners of his mouth slightly.

“I thought,” the mature and composed Grand Duke Lyco shook his head, making his bald head even more conspicuous, with a glint of shrewdness occasionally flashing in his eyes, “that if you’ve only come to talk to a few of us… you’ve brought far too many ‘attendants’ outside the door, haven’t you?”

"And... how did you get through the first gate? Did the soldiers just let you through like that?"

Chaman Lumba looked up and glanced at the dragon spear stone carving in the clouds above.

His hand rested on the old sword at his waist.

The next second, he slowly nodded.

But on Rumba's unsmiling face, his eyes grew colder and colder.

"I didn't know you'd started learning stage acting," the Black Sand Grand Duke said with a low hum, glancing around at the four of them.

"One line per person?"

boom!
Grand Duke Ronnie slammed his fist on the rectangular table, his eyes turning cold.

"Stop with the nonsense," the Grand Duke of Qiyuan City said fiercely, "What on earth is going on with that big head of yours that's been blown by the southern sandstorms for forty years!"

"Kill the king, and destroy the greatest rules and tacit understandings we've had for over six hundred years?"

"Do you think you can escape?"

The dukes stared coldly at Rumba, offering no response.

Rumba frowned as he faced Ronnie's questioning.

A few seconds later.

“I thought you would be happy,” Rumba said softly, his voice a little hoarse. “After all, he’s dead, and you can finally get rid of that tyrant.”

"Get rid of his officials."

"Get rid of his unreasonable demands."

"Get rid of his ever-growing greedy desires."

"Get rid of his ever-growing power."

"Get rid of his unreasonable meddling in the affairs of your respective territories."

Chaman Lumba coldly surveyed the dukes: "Isn't that so?"

At that moment, a different color flashed in the eyes of each of the four dukes.

There was a moment of silence in the room.

Grand Duke of Weyland, Rebian Aurelius, stepped forward.

The bearded duke's lips curled into a smile, and he said in a cold tone, "But that's not how you play this game."

"You can't overturn the chessboard just because you're at a temporary disadvantage."

He narrowed his eyes: "You're behaving like a reckless gambler, which makes us very nervous."

Rumba snorted coldly, seemingly disdainful.

"nervous?"

He stretched out his palm, patted his chest, and said in a deep voice, "Ask yourselves, my great dukes."

“In the past thirty years, the past sixty years, the past ninety years,” Rumba’s expression was icy and his words were sharp as swords, “whether it is me, or those few Waltons, the kings who have used all sorts of means and overwhelming power to suffocate you, who makes you more nervous?”

The dukes remained silent; years of experience had long since taught them to keep their emotions hidden—not everyone was as young as Peffert.

Rumba took a step and walked towards the rectangular table.

“Of course, Nunn and Walton are both very good at this game. They manage their chessboards very well,” Rumba said in a cold voice. “Look at that throne. It’s been sitting in Dragonstreet for almost a hundred years!”

The Grand Duke of Black Sands waved his hand, pointing to King Nuen's location, his eyes cold: "Don't you find it strange?"

Archduke Aurelius spat out a harsh "Pah!"

“This has nothing to do with us,” the Grand Duke of Wilan stepped up to him, confronting Lombard without flinching. “But you have indeed broken the co-rule oath—His Majesty remains your co-ruler.”

Boom!
Rumba suddenly took a step forward!
His forehead was almost touching Aurelius's forehead.

But Aurelius did not back down, his eyes fierce.

The atmosphere between the two dukes grew increasingly tense.

“Then you should know,” Grand Duke Lombard squinted, slurring his words in a chilling way, “that if he were still alive, in two months my head would be placed in a box for you all to see.”

"How do you know that the head in the next box won't be one of yours?"

"Enough with the nonsense," the oldest Duke Lyco said, raising his head with a serious expression. "Trying to make us believe that the Star Prince murdered the King is not a good way to divert attention."

“The people of the North have their own way of doing things,” Grand Duke Ronnie continued, his voice deep and resonant. “Just follow it.”

Grand Duke Lombard narrowed his eyes, seemingly quite displeased.

Grand Duke Trudida clapped his hands.

“I don’t think he wants to follow the North’s ways,” said the notoriously cunning Grand Duke of Rebuilding Tower, tilting his head. “Look at that bunch of clueless soldiers outside the door.”

Grand Duke Ronnie sneered, "What, are you planning to wipe us all out here?"

Grand Duke Lombard looked at the four grand dukes, his expression growing increasingly cold.

He clenched his fists.

But the four dukes before him showed no sign of backing down. Whether sitting or standing, they stared coldly at Rumba, refusing to compromise.

After a while.

Rumba loosened his fist, lowered his chest, and slowly exhaled.

"I am not here to threaten you," the Grand Duke of Black Sands said solemnly, "nor do I intend to harm you."

Grand Duke Lecce narrowed his eyes, seemingly deep in thought.

Rumba suddenly raised his head: "I am here today for Exter."

Archduke Aurelius and Archduke Ronnie exchanged a glance and simultaneously let out a cold laugh.

"Come on," Ronnie shook his head. "Does a kingslayer want to make conditions?"

"For the sake of Exster's future," Rumba said solemnly, "I have an important proposal to make to you all."

The Grand Duke of Black Sands raised his head, his face cold, but his eyes burning like flames.

Flames in ice.

“There is no more direct heir in Dragonsky City,” he said calmly. “I believe that neither the selfish Walton family nor this Grand Duchy that has burdened Exter for over six hundred years…”

"They should no longer exist."

Trudida looked puzzled.

Grand Duke Lecco's expression changed.

Aurelius pursed his lips, a hint of surprise in his eyes.

Ronnie's smile froze on his face.

But Rumba continued talking.

"The western territory of Longxiao City can belong to Qiyuan City," he said casually, as if he were talking about a trivial matter from last winter's hunt.

"The northern part could be placed under the jurisdiction of Jieshou City."

“The rest,” Rumba squinted at Olech and Trudida, “will be given to the Wilan Territory and the Reconstruction Tower respectively.”

The Grand Duke kept his mouth shut and waited quietly for a response.

No one speaks.

It seemed as if the air itself had frozen.

Until Grand Duke Lecco's incredulous voice, trembling, rang out:

"What did you say?"

Rumba turned to him.

“Did you hear what I said?” Rumba’s eyes widened slightly, and he said in a deep voice, “We’re here to jointly manage this land…”

"Take Dragon Sky City..."

"Let it become our new territory."

Many of the details Thales mentions in this chapter were mentioned intermittently in the previous dozen or so chapters about his escape and capture; readers who missed them may wish to go back and take another look.

Also, I saw that a donation of 10,000 yuan has been made...

Um, bookkeeping (on its last legs)...

By Wujian, who was so tired he was sticking out his tongue.
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(End of this chapter)