Kingdom Bloodline

Chapter 269 The Grand Duchess

The atmosphere outside the corridor remained tense.

Faint voices could be heard coming from inside the Hall of Heroes, but they were not clearly audible from outside.

Thales was so exhausted that he didn't even have the strength to activate the Sin of the River of Hell.

Nikolai released his hand from supporting Mailk, letting him rest on his own—the latter stared painfully at the female warrior on the stretcher among the Black Sand Territory crowd.

"Boss!" Lord Justin of the White Blade Guard stepped forward, looking at the Meteorite with astonishment: "You've been missing since last night, how come..."

“Ah, Justin,” Nicholas said somberly, waving to his vice commander from a distance, “you did a good job—at least you held the palace.”

"It left us with a glimmer of hope."

Justin looked stunned.

Nicolai approached Thales with a complicated expression: "In fact, I never thought you would have any chance of success."

The prince, who was sitting on the ground with his hands supporting him, raised his head and glared at him weakly.

“I know,” Thales replied hoarsely, sounding like a hapless man who had just drowned. “You’re probably thinking: This guy’s gone to his death.”

Nikolai looked at him, his eyes narrowing slightly, as if he were thinking.

“I must admit,” Nicolai nodded almost imperceptibly after a few seconds, pursing his lips, “you do have some tricks up your sleeve.”

"little Prince."

After speaking, the Meteorite turned around and walked toward Prime Minister Lisbon.

Thales let out a breath and rolled his eyes.

"Would it kill you to say 'thank you'?" he said irritably from behind the Meteorite.

Nicolai put his hand behind his head and waved it nonchalantly.

"What an awkward guy..." Thales thought to himself.

Amidst the strange looks from the two groups of people in front of the hall, their men returned one by one.

Wyatt felt ashamed and guilty, and apologized for not being able to fight alongside His Highness.

As Rolf removed one of his prosthetic limbs, revealing his bleeding knee, he gestured to him with a "terrible" sign.

Cohen told him excitedly and with great satisfaction that it was an honor to fight alongside him.

Thales could only smile at them over and over again.

On the other side of the wall, Raphael helped the weak Miranda sit down slowly.

But Miranda grabbed Rafael's hand.

The female swordswoman weakly raised her head, enduring the pain in her abdomen, and looked sadly at the expressionless Raphael.

A second later, Miranda, her eyes slightly red, reached out and wrapped her arms around the man's neck, trying to pull him closer to her.

Raphael was slightly startled, and his heart tightened.

“No,” he instinctively pressed Miranda down, shaking his head with a grim expression, “we’re still on enemy territory…”

The weakened Miranda remained silent, simply staring at him quietly.

this……

idiot.

The next moment, Miranda tightened her grip on the man's neck!

Raphael was slightly startled and was pulled forward by Miranda.

The two were only inches apart.

The female swordsman looked at him seriously and solemnly.

Those eyes...

Just like many years ago: the girl who earnestly told him to "smile" in the snow.

"Listen to me carefully, word by word."

Miranda spoke slowly and deliberately, as if reprimanding a new recruit, saying to him in a soft but stern voice, "I almost died there today."

“I almost didn’t make it back.”

"Did you hear that clearly?"

Miranda's gaze pierced Raphael's eyes, making him feel a pang of sadness and leaving him unsure how to react.

Raphael sighed, looking at Miranda's sharp expression with mixed feelings.

The girl in the snow... has grown up.

The two looked at each other silently.

“So,” she said firmly, “when I want to kiss you, Raphael Lindbergh.”

The young man from the secret service stared blankly at Miranda.

As her face drew closer, I watched her black hair, damp with sweat, cling to her forehead.

Miranda slowly smiled:

"Then I'm going to kiss you."

The next second, the female swordsman raised her head and kissed his lips without hesitation.

Completely oblivious to the stares of those around them.

At that moment, Raphael felt a tremor in his heart.

The pain and bitterness that he had been suppressing in his chest seemed to vanish in an instant, leaving only the pounding of his heartbeat.

It overshadowed the other pulses in his broken body.

Even the things inside his body quieted down without him realizing it.

On the Black Sand Territory side, Viscount Cambida frowned as he approached a stretcher and looked at the wounded man on it.

"How is it, Ashe?" the Viscount asked casually.

“Ankle, and a stab wound to the chest,” Kroesh on the stretcher turned his gaze away from Miranda and Raphael, who were embracing and kissing, and then swept it over the somber-looking Michael and the relieved Cohen, and gave a cold smile: “He’ll be bedridden for months.”

At the last moment, both she and Miranda held back.

Perhaps they all knew that this would never be their end.

The next second, Chloe's face twitched as she endured the excruciating pain: "Also, don't call me Ashe."

That title doesn't belong to you.

“Okay, Ash,” Cambida nodded in realization, “Would you like some painkillers?”

Kroeshe frowned.

She glared at Viscount Cambida with displeasure and gave a cold snort.

The Viscount looked back at her without any guilt.

“You’d better stop talking about medicine,” Chloe said a few seconds later, turning her head away and saying rudely, “I’ve had enough of your medicine.”

Kambida chuckled to himself.

"You're still holding a grudge, huh..." Kambida rolled her eyes and curled her lips into a smile: "About me drugging you?"

Kroeshe suddenly turned around!
She stared directly at Kambida with a fierce look in her eyes.

"Hmph." Chloeshi snorted coldly.

Kambida patted his head helplessly.

"I might have drunk too much that night, but..."

"Besides taking off a few pieces of your clothes, I didn't do anything else, did I?" Viscount Mandon shrugged, narrowed his eyes, and glanced at Chloe's ample breasts: "You know I'm not interested in big-breasted women."

Kroeshe gazed at him silently.

His Excellency felt somewhat disheartened by this.

"Yes, you didn't do anything else."

Kroeshe said softly, "But you destroyed my faith with a night of drunken ramblings."

With LS·Kambida.

You destroyed my belief in making a living with a sword.

You were the one who made me realize for the first time what I really am.

Wherein lies my value?

“And another thing,” Kroesh said, her eyes flashing coldly as she looked directly into Cambida’s eyes, “whatever you’re interested in has nothing to do with my breast size.”

Kambida smiled slightly.

"If it can destroy your beliefs, then drunken words are truly worthwhile."

“And you think your breast size is only a matter for you,” the Viscount sighed, extending his finger without hesitation to poke Chloesie’s leather armor as if it were a piece of ordinary pork. “But the world doesn’t think so.”

Just as Chloeshe's gaze could kill, the doors to the Hall of Heroes opened.

Everyone outside the hall turned their heads at once.

As footsteps, some steady, some light, some heavy, some hesitant, sounded, a group of people filed out.

The soldiers and guards immediately stepped aside respectfully to make way for them.

Thales frowned: the Black Sand Grand Duke walked at the very front, while the other grand dukes accompanied him with varying expressions—their faces grew even more grim after seeing the murderous and nervous Black Sand army.

The first person to react was the long-awaited Prime Minister of Lisbon. The Prime Minister patted Nicolai on the shoulder, ending their whispered conversation, and then strode over to him.

“Chaman Lumba,” the old prime minister said with a steady gait and an unfriendly tone, “what a pleasant surprise.”

"Whether it was last night or this morning."

Rumba's expression was complicated. He pursed his lips, making his weathered face appear even more serious.

"The Earl of Lisbon".

He ignored the meaningful greeting from Lisban.

The Grand Duke turned around and nodded to Kambida, then looked at the others who had come out with him.

Oleshu, with a stern face, stepped aside, while Ronnie looked away disdainfully.

Under everyone's gaze, High Priest Holm of the Bright Moon Temple slowly stepped out from behind them.

Thales was nervous and held his breath.

She remained veiled, her eyes melancholic and hazy, only occasionally glancing at Thales, always making the prince uneasy.

The high priest held Selma's hand, appearing peaceful and serene.

Selma searched anxiously for something until her gaze met Thales's, at which point the girl seemed to relax and let out a sigh of relief.

Thales responded with an encouraging smile.

The girl still looked disheveled, but at least her dusty little face had been cleaned up and her original appearance was visible.

As a vassal of Dragonstreet, Count Risban's serious and solemn gaze was focused on Selma, as if he were pondering something.

Rumba slowly raised his hands, and the whispering crowd immediately fell silent.

Rumba calmly declared, "I hereby declare to the entire Exeter."

His voice wasn't loud, but it was exceptionally powerful, echoing in the corridor with considerable force.

"Last night, afflicted by disaster, our esteemed King, His Majesty King Nunn VII, has passed away."

In that instant, Thales clearly saw that, apart from the expressionless Lyco, the other grand dukes all had very unpleasant expressions.

Count Lisbon fixed his gaze on Rumba's face.

silence.

Despite being prepared, despite the rampant rumors, and despite the fact that the king's delayed return already indicated something.

But upon hearing the news, everyone's breath caught in their throats.

Nikolai and his group of White Blade Guards looked extremely grim.

In an instant, the warriors of Black Sand Territory and the palace warriors were in an uproar, whispering among themselves.

What started as whispers escalated into a growing uproar, as if a nameless panic was spreading.

Until Rumba raised his hand again: "Quiet!"

“As his granddaughter and blood relative,” Rumba said with a complicated expression, turning her head away and saying softly, “Selma Alex Suril Walton will inherit his position.”

Following the Grand Duke's gesture, everyone could see the bespectacled little girl standing helplessly beside the High Priest.

"To become the next Longxiao City..."

"Grand Duchess".

This time, compared to the gradual panic caused by the king's death, the entire hall erupted in an uproar!
That girl.

Grand Duchess?
Whether it was the soldiers of Black Sand Territory, the subordinates of the various dukes, or even the palace guards who were already loyal to King Nuen and Dragonstreet City, they were all shocked and looked at each other.

If most of the people weren't soldiers, the situation might have already spiraled out of control.

Only the guards, including Nikolai, remained unusually calm.

But the dukes, including the Lisbon Prime Minister who looked ashen-faced, showed no surprise.

Seeing Selma's face turn from red to white and her panicked state under the gaze of everyone, Thales felt very bad.

Rumba stared solemnly at the entire audience, remaining motionless.

Just then, the Prime Minister of Lisbon stepped forward.

His actions attracted everyone's attention.

Count Risban approached Selma and slowly knelt down.

"My lady, are you alright?" he asked softly, as if comforting a child's murmur.

Selma stared at him in a daze.

The count's wrinkles trembled slightly: "I am Charles Risban."

"He was your grandfather's vassal and his prime minister."

"Greetings." Perhaps at the high priest's prompting, Selma answered timidly, "Your Excellency..."

Lisban shook his head, his eyes filled with pity and sorrow.

“No, please remember,” the count said solemnly, “I am your vassal.”

"I will be loyal to you."

Selma was stunned, staring at the count's serious expression.

In the noisy corridor, Selma nodded and pursed her lips.

“Hello,” the girl said, trying to appear resolute. “Charles.”

A smile finally appeared on Lisban's wrinkled face as he slowly stood up.

Amid the commotion, Chloesh, half-sitting on a stretcher, shook her head sarcastically: "Ha, in the end, it is our enemy who has produced a Grand Duchess."

"How ironic."

Viscount Cambida turned around: "Is that really what you think?"

Kroeshi replied with a disdainful look: "Isn't that right?"

Kambida chuckled and quickly poked her head.

“No, no, Ashe,” under Chloeshi’s murderous gaze, the Viscount deftly withdrew his right hand before the female warrior could break his fingers: “Listen carefully with your cute little brain.”

Kambida's sharp gaze shifted to Selma, then to the figures of the dukes, observing their faces—some ashen, some calm, some filled with barely suppressed rage—and he sighed, "The reason the North has its first female duke is not due to coincidence or any other reason."

"And it is precisely because we swung the first hammer."

"For the first time, those ironclad rules that had haunted the North for thousands of years were shattered."

Kroesi paused slightly.

"Because we swung this hammer," the Viscount said meaningfully, a slight smile playing on his lips, "that amidst the rubble and chaos, the unprepared Northland and its people were able to accept the first Grand Duchess."

Perhaps it's not just the Grand Duchess.

There's something else.

"Did you remember?" A strange flame burned in Kambida's eyes as he spoke, enunciating each word clearly:
"He who does not labor will not reap."

Chloe lowered her eyes, lost in thought.

Just then, High Priest Holm released the girl's hand and slowly stepped forward.

Grand Duke Lombard gracefully stepped back to make way for her.

The high priest spoke slowly.

The commotion outside the hall had not yet subsided, and her voice was not very loud.

But unexpectedly, the high priest's words rang clearly and directly in everyone's ears:

"As the spokesperson for the bright moon, I hereby solemnly declare to the entire Kingdom of Exter."

Everyone immediately fell silent.

"The forty-fifth co-ruled king of Exter, Grand Duke of Dragonstreet, Nuen Nekaru Kahn Walton."

He died today.

There was still silence, but the atmosphere was no longer as oppressive as before.

Because everyone knows what's going to happen next.

High Priest Holm said calmly:
"In accordance with the co-governance oath of Nakaru 662 years ago."

"Now that the old king is dead, a new king shall be established."

"The bright moon bears witness here."

"Under the sacred power of the Nekaru Co-rule Oath, in the great and solemn election of kings, one person has received the most votes and has been elected as the next Co-rule King."

At that moment, everyone's eyes turned to the several grand dukes present—almost all of them had unpleasant expressions, and Ronnie even turned his head away disdainfully.

In the oppressive atmosphere, Chaman Lumba, expressionless, flicked his cloak and slowly stepped forward.

Stand under the scrutinizing gaze of everyone.

Two more chapters and we'll reach the end of the volume.

I was writing and deleting as I went yesterday, and I didn't finish coding until very late, so I didn't update.

The ending is quite difficult to polish, as it connects the previous and subsequent parts. The outline for the next volume needs to be revised to continue the story, and suitable supporting characters need to be selected from the reader's character pool to develop the plot. Therefore, it will take more time. Please forgive me.

The next chapter will be released after 12 o'clock.

P.S. Oh crap, my eyes are failing me! I put Chapter 83 in a new volume... I'll go see the editor tomorrow to see if I can get it changed back. (My OCD is driving me crazy!)
Chapter 84 has been updated, but due to the silly mistake mentioned above, you need to go back to the previous chapter to find it.

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(End of this chapter)