Kingdom Bloodline

Chapter 247 An unexpected encounter
This is the second corridor leading from the rest room to the Hall of Heroes; it's narrow but very open.

His decades-long career, from serving in the White Guard to working for the King, made him extremely familiar with the palace.

However, for Byrne Myrk, from the moment King Nunn roared his exile, from the moment he left Valhalla in a daze, clutching his daughter's body, the once familiar Valhalla became a place of pain he could never face in his entire life.

As an unforgivable and irreparable sinner, returning to Valhalla was like a long, unattainable dream for him.

So when Michael stood there again a few hours later, he felt like he was dreaming.

But what does it matter?

Michael gripped the hilt of his knife, telling himself that part of his heart had died twelve years ago, and another part had died twelve years later.

What he was doing now was nothing more than habit and instinct—that's how he convinced himself when he received the summons from Nikolai.

Although he had prepared long ago and believed he could accept whatever the situation might be...

But when the enemy's figure actually emerged from the shadows, Michael couldn't help but shudder.

It wasn't until this very second that Michael realized that his heart wasn't completely dead; a last part of it still lived on.

But now it seems that this part is also going to die.

Looking at the familiar yet unfamiliar enemy ahead, Myrk sighed.

The faint sounds of fighting could be heard nearby.

Michael knew that elsewhere in the palace, their scattered forces had already begun encountering the enemy.

Just as the Star Envoy had predicted—Mairk sighed inwardly: The enemy wouldn't launch a major offensive, but they could send elite squads to intercept these invaders in every corner of the palace, not to annihilate them, but to stop them.

Drain their energy, bind their hands, and restrict their movement.

and so……

Michael raised his head and looked at the silent figure in front of him.

The former officer gave a wry smile.

Hopefully, that star person's plan will work.

Michael took a step forward.

“You know,” Myrk said, rubbing his dry lips, his voice heavy with sorrow and grief, “when the White Blade Guards spread the word that Chaman Lumba of Black Sand Territory was plotting a rebellion, I kept telling myself: this has nothing to do with you.”

"You won't participate..."

"It couldn't be you..."

Michael stared sadly at the motionless enemy before him, his incredulous gaze even carrying a hint of pleading: "Why..."

On the other side of the corridor, the silent enemy slowly raised his foot and walked towards him, but did not answer.

It was as if Byrne Miles was a complete stranger.

At that moment, Michael's expression showed even more pain.

When they were only a few steps apart, the enemy raised his eyes and stared at him coldly.

Michael simply stared back at him quietly, as if expecting something, or hesitating about something.

Finally, the enemy slowly began to speak.

"So, you've become the king's aide," the enemy's words seemed to carry a hint of sarcasm and mockery, along with a subtle streak of hatred and loathing: "Congratulations on rising from a commoner to a member of the elite guard, and then to a close advisor to the king..."

Lord Byrne Mailk.

"How glorious, how dazzling."

Michael was struck dumb, his whole body swaying.

He lowered his head and gently closed his eyes.

The sounds of fighting came from elsewhere again, growing increasingly intense.

“I once sent people to Black Sand Territory to look for you,” Myrk’s voice was filled with complex emotions, his tone trembling slightly, “Back then, they all said you didn’t want to come back…”

The enemy sneered, "But I'm back."

"Bring me your sword!"

The moment the words left his mouth, the enemy's weapon was drawn without any warning!

"Qiang!"

The blade sliced ​​through the air, exuding a chilling aura, before colliding fiercely with another blade in mid-air!

"clang!"

The piercing metallic sound echoed in their ears.

Lord Milek held his sword horizontally, pressing on the hilt and the back of the blade, parrying the enemy's double-handed slash from below, his face contorted with pain as he said, "Yes, you're back."

"Shh!"

The enemy instantly withdrew his weapon and made a move to retreat, but just as Michael attempted to slash horizontally in the opposite direction, a sword slashed horizontally at his wrist!

Michael was startled.

Years of instinct allowed him to twist his wrist in time and step back!

With a harsh, grating metallic scraping sound, his hilt guard deflected the blade, saving Michael from the fate of losing his wrist.

“You’ve changed too,” Mylke said gravely, glancing at the swordsman who had nearly died, then at the murderous enemy before him, his eyes filled with a complex and subtle expression. “No wonder it’s the Tower of the End.”

“You’re not bad either,” the enemy said, flicking his sword and glaring at him. “It’s not common for someone to be able to interrupt my moves.”

Michael frowned, his heart growing increasingly bitter.

This is……

My own destiny?

As Your Majesty said, shall he atone for the mistakes he has made for eternity?
"Just you? Where are the others?" the enemy asked coldly.

Michael sighed softly and shook his head:
"They are where they belong."

The enemy didn't answer, but just snorted and immediately stepped forward, launching another sword attack!
Michael gritted his teeth and, relying on his combat experience and instincts, advanced instead of retreating.

"Clang!" Swords clashed.

This time, before his opponent could change his moves again, Michael struck the edge of his opponent's sword, interrupting his opponent's continuous attacks and rhythm.

Amidst the enemy's surprised gasps, Myrk continued forward, pushing the blade along with the enemy, while painfully questioning, "Why?"

"Why you..."

Caught off guard by the attack, the enemy retreated continuously, but when they reached their sixth step, they calmly planted their foot on the ground.

The power of termination surged within him, and the enemy, wielding his sword with both hands, instantly slid past the center of gravity of Michael's blade!
clang!
The blade gripped the parry tightly, and the two were locked in a stalemate once again.

"It's been more than ten years..."

“You’re only asking me why now?” At that moment, the enemy gritted his teeth, staring at Lord Byrne Mailer with an expression full of anger and disdain: “Isn’t it too late?”

The former officer's rival, the female final swordsman, Chloesie Mailke, gripped the hilt of her sword tightly with both hands, her eyes bloodshot, as she forced out that unfamiliar and subtle word:

"Father!"

----

Meanwhile, Raphael, who was near the armory, also heard faint sounds of fighting coming from the surroundings—sounds traveled very fast in this rugged palace.

But he made no attempt to stop and think of a solution, or to rush to the scene of the fight to help.

At this moment, Raphael felt only a deep chill and fear.

No matter how hard Raphael tried to suppress it, his arms continued to tremble, and strange rustling sounds could be heard beneath his skin.

Like an animal that senses danger.

Raphael squinted, staring at the corner ahead: he heard footsteps approaching.

His arm trembled more and more violently, the temperature of the flesh under his skin rose, and its activity increased rapidly, surging back and forth like an erupting volcano.

Raphael had rarely encountered such a situation since reshaping his arm amidst endless pain and torment.

Oh, only once.

Raphael's eyes flickered; he recalled a scene from two years ago.

At that time, he stood respectfully behind the Black Prophet, awaiting His Majesty's summons.

A short, stocky man with a menacing air emerged from His Majesty's audience chamber, glancing at Raphael as he passed by, seemingly intentionally or unintentionally.

That was the first time his arm began to tremble.

Later, Raphael learned who the fierce-looking man was.

Arakka Mu.

From that moment on, Raphael knew it was his arm's instinct urging him to flee.

They escaped a danger that even the two of them combined could not withstand.

But he can't leave.

Raphael frowned.

Putila's strategy was very simple.

They had one advantage over the enemy, and that was their only advantage: they knew what the enemy wanted to do, but the enemy did not know their purpose.

and so……

They need to maintain this advantage until they succeed.

Thinking of the Little Prince, Raphael took a deep breath with mixed feelings and looked at the corner ahead.

His arm was trembling so violently that it began to spiral out of control, and Raphael even had to use his power of termination to forcefully suppress the increasingly volatile arm.

Finally, the enemy emerged from around the corner.

Raphael's eyes narrowed.

He recognized the man—his portrait was always among the top twenty on the wall of important figures in the Secret Service's "Extreme Intelligence Room".

Raphael sighed.

Looks like I'm the unluckiest one.

and……

Raphael looked at the weapon in the other man's hand, his brows furrowing deeper and deeper.

An unstoppable and powerful destructive force.

Both their willpower and reaction time are top-notch.

Proficient in the use of most weapons.

Rare battlefield judgment.

And the most terrifying thing of all... an almost unparalleled wealth of experience.

This kind of opponent...

The enemy stopped in their tracks; their towering figures were extremely imposing.

“Strange,” the newcomer said, looking at him in a thick Northern accent, “you still dare to disperse your forces under these circumstances.” “Are you trying to cover something up?”

Raphael was slightly taken aback.

He then spread his hands.

That being the case.

no solution anymore.

“Yes, we’re planning it…” Raphael smiled easily and shrugged.

"you guess?"

The enemy paused slightly, seemingly unaccustomed to Raphael's attitude.

The enemy hesitated for a moment before speaking, then said, "I suggest you..."

But before he could finish speaking, Raphael unexpectedly turned around, turned his back to him, and ran away!

Footsteps sounded rapidly.

This……

The enemy was only slightly taken aback, but their fighting instincts immediately took over.

He grabbed his weapon and, with heavy but never clumsy steps, chased after Raphael, who was trying to escape!

Raphael was startled when he heard footsteps behind him.

At this speed, we'll catch up...

But before he could finish thinking, a chill ran down his spine!
call.

The wind howled.

Raphael instinctively tilted his head.

A black, sharp blade grazed past his left ear!

The moment the young man from the secret service tilted his head, his enemy nodded approvingly.

A good crisis response.

He has potential...

But before the enemy could react, Raphael, who was desperately trying to dodge, suddenly stopped.

Boom!
The young man's legs slammed into the ground, his right hand gripped the enemy's long weapon, and he turned to face the enemy!

The enemy, still charging forward, saw Raphael's eyes clearly: they were filled with murderous intent.

The enemy instantly realized: he was the prey being targeted.

You underestimated him.

I originally thought he was just a young man with good potential.

but……

The enemy thought to himself: He had been away from the battlefield for too long, and had made the most fatal mistake—arrogance.

But he had no time to reflect on himself.

next moment.

Raphael's expression became incredibly terrifying, as if he were suffering from pain and madness.

A piercing and frightening rustling sound erupted from his right arm, and the exposed skin beneath the torn sleeve began to swell, radiating endless red light along the veins!
It's the color of lava.

Raphael gripped the enemy's weapon with his right hand and, following the enemy's momentum, pulled sharply!
The enemy gripped his weapon with both hands, ready to wrestle with the other.

But just as the enemy exerted force, his expression suddenly changed drastically.

No, that force...

It's definitely not a normal person...

With a sharp scraping sound, the enemy couldn't hold onto his weapon and was disarmed by Raphael's strange right hand!
In the brief moment of surprise as the enemy lost his balance and fell toward Raphael, the latter coldly stomped the ground and charged toward his opponent.

His left hand made an equally eerie rustling sound.

It's like thousands of tiny insects gnawing continuously.

The next second, Raphael calmly swung his left elbow horizontally, unleashing a devastating burst of finishing power that slammed into the enemy's chest!
The enemy knew something was wrong, but had no way to dodge for the moment. He could only cup his hands and block the dangerous elbow strike from the front.

"Boom!"

A heavy, muffled thud.

Using the enemy's fall and his own strength, Raphael roared, and the continuous force in his arm surged like a wave!
"boom!"

The enemy took the elbow strike head-on and was slammed to the ground.

As the enemy felt the numbness and excruciating pain spreading from his arms to his back, he exclaimed in astonishment: This power of termination is...

But it's not over yet.

Raphael's right hand spun around in the air.

He had turned the enemy's long weapon upside down, with the sharp blade aimed at the enemy on the ground!

The enemy's eyes narrowed, and his pupils contracted slightly.

Oops.

His arm was still numb.

There was no way to resist or react.

And that weapon...

It's really annoying.

Are young people these days really this scary?

The enemy thought dejectedly.

In that instant, Raphael stared at the enemy on the ground with an utterly cold gaze.

Stab with sharp blade!

At the critical moment, the enemy used the strength of his legs and abdomen to flip himself up from the ground!

As he flipped over, he twisted his body, avoiding the deadly weapon.

"bass!"

The sharp blade pierced the ground, kicking up countless pieces of gravel.

"Boom!"

An enemy in the air delivered a headbutt, striking Raphael on the head!

It was a headbutt that bounced off the ground, but the angle and force of it made it seem like it was shaking the heavens and the earth.

In that instant, Raphael felt dizzy and a shiver ran through his entire body, causing him to involuntarily take a step back.

He gripped his weapon tightly to avoid falling backward to the ground.

But the next moment, the enemy steadied themselves.

The enemy's right fist struck Raphael's cheek, and the latter gritted his teeth, tightening his arms again in an attempt to grab the enemy's hand.

But the enemy's left hand was faster than his right fist, instantly forming a knife with his fingers. In the gap when Raphael raised his hand to block, it bypassed his pair of strange arms and forcefully imprinted itself on Raphael's chest!

"Boom!"

Raphael felt a chill in his heart, followed by a sharp pain in his chest.

The next second, he lost his grip on the enemy's weapon and flew out, falling to the ground.

The battle, which was swift and decisive, ended in an instant.

The winner has been decided.

"That was... almost fatal," the enemy said, taking a deep breath after unleashing his combo, pulling his long weapon from the ground. "Even more dangerous than last time."

The enemy looked at Raphael on the ground and murmured:

"It's rare to be so young in the field—all you lack is experience and familiarity."

A few seconds later, Raphael convulsed and rolled over, spitting out a mouthful of blood in agony, his arms trembling uncontrollably in excruciating pain.

With his movements, Raphael's muscles and bones creaked and groaned like rusty bellows.

But Raphael ignored them and just stared blankly at the enemy in front of him.

Not really.

That kind of killing move...

None of them worked?
“You have a lot of ideas; you’re not just working yourself to the bone.”

The enemy pounded his chest, exhaled with difficulty, and seemed very tired: "Your observation was very accurate, your timing was excellent, and most importantly, you were able to unleash your full power with decisiveness and determination in an instant, exceeding your limits."

Even if you know that after this blow, you may be powerless to fight back.

Raphael sighed, and then coughed up blood amidst the excruciating pain in his chest and abdomen.

"Kroeshe said that this time, several of her classmates from the Tower of Endings have come—all of them Seeds," the enemy said calmly, his tone somber.

I really miss it.

The enemy took a deep breath.

Raphael was slightly taken aback.

The enemy caught his breath, raised his head, and looked Raphael in the eye with certainty and determination: "I recognize this style."

"This is an extreme fighting style that seeks survival in desperate situations, and is cruel and resolute."

"And your Sword Washing Lament—even if it's the one from the Sword of Calamity,"

Before Raphael stood the legendary commander of the White Blade Guard, "Earthshaker" Caslan Rumba, exhaling a breath, his eyes filled with melancholy.
“You are Shao’s student—a seed of the ‘Sinful Tragedy’ lineage in Tali.”

His tone was very certain.

Raphael stared blankly at the old man, unsure how to react.

But Kaslan merely gripped his Soul-Slaying Spear, looking at Raphael with pity and regret, and sighed softly, "So, after the Sin of the River of Hell, that compassionate yet cruel fellow has set his sights on this one?"

Kaslan gave a bitter laugh, a laugh tinged with sarcasm and regret.

He looked at Raphael's trembling hands, and what he said shocked Raphael:

"Demons from the underworld..."

"That bizarre flesh and blood that multiplies infinitely?"

The charge was 3600 words, but the actual word count was 4900 words.
So, what kind of fan title would you all like? I saw that we discussed it in the group all day the day before yesterday, but we still haven't come to a conclusion.

(I think "lowly people" or "despicable people" is pretty good—seriously)

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(End of this chapter)