Kingdom Bloodline

Chapter 280 Target
When Thales, filled with resentment, rode through the First Gate under heavy guard back to Valhalla, his mind was filled with countless doubts.

According to Ashida, there are very few magic users to begin with, yet there are still many different factions:
Led by B, the radicals who started the war, once the most powerful faction, the real "catastrophe" with a long list of crimes: according to Ashida, they are a bunch of complete madmen who will destroy both the world and themselves, but is that really the case? Thales always felt that even the incomprehensible Giza did not seem to be such a crazy being.

Represented by Ashida, these are the moderates who reject war: Ashida describes themselves as a group of pacifists who do not want to fight. The world is scattered and disorganized, but in Thales' view, as things stand, whether it is controlling the underworld of the Star Kingdom or chasing Thales, the air magic master is the most active magic master who wants to change the status quo.

The two confused individuals, who identify as human and therefore oppose the radicals, have a strange attitude towards Ashida: neither hatred nor approval, but rather a deep, poignant pity. Where are those two now? What is their situation?
Furthermore, Thales felt a pang of anxiety at this thought:
Bloodthorn and Black Orchid.

The traitors known as the Magic Queens, the sorcerers, are shrouded in the greatest mystery: Why did they betray us? And how did they betray us? Why does Ashida hate them more than the Chaos Ones who stand on the side of the world? And what has become of them?

Thales sighed, dismounted by the stables at Valhalla, took the book from the saddle, and, while comforting the reluctant Jenny, handed the reins to the groom.

Having just taken his "first lesson," his confusion about the world only increased: the more he knew, the more questions he had.

As he was deep in thought, Wyatt nudged the young prince from behind, his tone cautious and wary: "Your Highness."

Regaining his senses, Thales looked up and saw the object that had made Wyatt and Rolf quite uneasy.

It was a pale-faced man, leaning against the stable with his arms crossed, a black-handled saber strapped diagonally to his back.

He raised his head toward the prince and his entourage, revealing a sharp and unfriendly gaze—including Lord Justin, whose guards and palace guards all nodded to him—and exuded an aura of danger that kept strangers at bay.

Just like when Thales first met him.

“It’s already six o’clock,” the man said coldly, “but I said five o’clock.”

Thales rolled his eyes helplessly at the setting sun.

"Shouldn't you be busy protecting Her Majesty the Grand Duchess?" The prince brushed the dust off his clothes, bid farewell to Jenny, and once again watched the beautiful young woman being led into the stable, causing a stir among his fellow riders.

"Why do you have time to visit a powerless and ineffective foreign prince at this time?"

Lord Nicholas?

Serri Nikolai—the legendary commander who was demoted from the White Blade Guard to the Grand Duke's personal guard—is now middle-aged. After the upheaval six years ago, with the wrinkles around his eyes increasing, this once most trusted guard of King Nunn has become more steady, reliable, and cautious.

Wyatt turned around anxiously, trying to find Ada, but a few seconds later, he sighed and turned back—the dwarf had probably abandoned the prince again and gone hunting in the countryside.

The Meteorite snorted coldly.

“Others may think you’re unremarkable, that you usually just read books, play chess, skip a class, or play hide-and-seek,” Nicolai said, his usual unpleasant scrutinizing gaze sweeping over his target, his tone unfriendly. “But I know…”

The meteorite lowered his arms, his eyes sharp:

"You are the most troublesome person in Valhalla."

Thales sighed helplessly, turned and walked out of the stable, brushing past Nicolai.

"Thank you for your praise, please excuse me..."

Just then, Thales's shoulder suddenly felt heavy!
"Snapped!"

The prince turned his head and looked at the hand that the meteorite was pressing on his shoulder, his brows furrowing slightly.

Wyatt and Rolf reacted quickly, taking two steps forward. The attendant placed his hand on his single-edged sword, while the Wind Demon drew two short swords from his waist.

Those around them reacted quickly: the Star People formed a semicircle, keeping the equally tense Northern People outside.

"Release the prince."

Wyman looked at him and warned him with a serious expression.

“Relax, relax,” Thales exhaled before things got out of control, waving his men away. “Lord Nicolai always likes to joke with me.”

The prince looked at the Meteorite who was still holding his shoulder and raised an eyebrow: "Is that so?"

Nicolai stared at him for a full five seconds before releasing the boy in front of him.

Wyman, who had been on guard, finally breathed a sigh of relief, and the tense atmosphere around them eased.

But just as Thales shrugged, the Meteorite suddenly reached out again.

"Snapped!"

Nikolai's movements were so swift and unpredictable that the prince couldn't react at all. He could only watch helplessly as the Meteorite's hand swiftly pulled away from his left hand—forcibly snatching the thick brown book that he had taken out of the palace!
But at that moment, Thales' expression changed drastically, like a lion cub whose mane had been ruffled.

The Sin of the River of Hell, like a most loyal companion, originated from every inch of his body, surging up his left arm and filling every joint from his shoulder and elbow to his wrist.

The instant the book left his hand, Thales' left arm moved with several times the speed of usual, swiftly seizing it with a backhand!

"Boom!"

He held onto the spine of the book tightly!
The sins of the River of Hell surged back, filling his arm muscles and gradually increasing the force in Thales's hand, not yielding an inch.

The attendants' hands rested on their weapons again: the tension in the air returned.

"Your Highness!" Wyman cried out anxiously, "Be careful..."

“Step back, Wyatt!” Thales said gravely, stopping his subordinate from drawing his weapon. “Lord Nicolai’s joke went a little too far, that’s all.”

Damn.

This guy… Thales stared intently at Nicolai:
He just won't let me go.

The brown book stopped in mid-air—the Star Prince and the Meteorite each grabbed one side of the book, locked in a stalemate.

“Oh, that’s quite rare,” Nicolai said, feeling the increasing pressure on his hand, unable to hide his surprise. “If you could perform like this in your daily sword practice…”

“You’ll fuck me even worse then,” Thales interrupted him coldly, refusing to put down the book in his hands.

Nikolai curled the corners of his mouth.

“You know, I’ve always been curious,” the Meteorite said, a strange, cold light gleaming in his eyes, “won’t you get tired of playing chess with yourself in an empty private room for three years in a row?”

“There’s nothing we can do,” Thales retorted without backing down. “It’s your fault for not knowing how to play chess, and the Grand Duchess’s chess skills are terrible.”

“Is that so?” Nicolai sneered. “There must be people in Mikori who can play chess.”

Thales gritted his teeth, sensing something was wrong.

“Perhaps you shouldn’t have been so rude to me,” the prince sighed, his arms, trembling from the struggle, beginning to ache. “Your Excellency, Grand Duchess…”

"Her Majesty the Grand Duchess must remember how her grandfather died!" Nicolai interrupted him even faster, his expression reminiscent of a hunter catching his prey.

"Isn't it?"

Thales was speechless for a moment.

The next instant, Nikolai pushed and pulled the book in his hand!
Thales had no way of knowing how to counter his opponent's sudden change in technique and strength. The speed and power brought by the Sin of the River of Hell were useless. He could only stare helplessly as Nikolai took the book back.

"I didn't know you were still interested in the Knights' Temple," Nikolai said, glancing at the title on the cover and then at the Star Prince, whose face was grim. "However..."

With a single slap of his hand, the Meteorite opened the book to the page the user most frequently turned to, and it lay flat on Nicolai's calloused palm.

A thin, sky-blue sheet of paper was tucked between the pages of the book.

Thales clenched his fists, his breathing quickening.

That is……

“Oh, that explains it…” Nicolai narrowed his eyes, a smile playing on his lips, and gently picked up the thin blue paper, watching Thales’s ashen face with interest:

"A message? Is that why you went to play chess?"

That's an invitation.

Thales said silently, suppressing his anxiety, and reached out to stop his subordinates from acting.

“It’s just a meaningless sentence,” the prince said calmly. “You know that…”

Nikolai interrupted him with a light laugh.

“Then let’s see…” In front of the prince, Nicolai, with a confident smile, tossed aside the thin piece of paper and read aloud the words on it:
"fall from the sky……"

But Nikolai’s pale face changed slightly after he uttered only the first syllable.

He abruptly raised his head, shifting his gaze from the thin paper back to Thales.

Thales blinked.

Is this some kind of joke?

The Meteorite coldly replied, "Little Prince."

He turned the cardboard in his hand over, and the light blue paper was spread out in front of Thales.

Wyatt and Rolf both leaned forward.

The thin piece of paper in Nicolai's hand contained only a single line of neatly written Common language in standard patterned script:
[The Meteorite is a big idiot.]

Rolf whistled and pulled his head back.

Wyatt muttered something, suppressing a laugh, and avoided looking at Nicolai's expression.

“See, I said something completely meaningless,” Thales said awkwardly, scratching his head to ease the soreness from the Sin of the River of Hell. “You were the one who insisted on reading it.”

Nikolai stared into the prince's eyes, his own eyes blazing with fury.

His second-in-command, Lord Justin, frowned slightly and stepped forward to remind him, "Boss, it's getting dark."

The Meteorite then closed his mouth in dissatisfaction and snorted through his nose.

With a sour expression, Nicolai crumpled the thin paper in his hand into a ball and threw the book back to Thales.

"Little Prince, you'd better watch out."

“Try a new word next time,” Thales said, catching the book and pretending to blow the dust off it. “I’m used to it.”

"Do not."

“What I mean is,” Nicolai’s eyes turned cold, his tone carrying a deeper meaning, “be careful.”

At that moment, Thales' pupils contracted.

"What do you mean?" the prince asked calmly.

From Nikolai's words, Thales sensed something unusual.

"That's what it means literally."

Nicolai coldly tore the thin paper in his hand to shreds: "Dragon City has been anything but peaceful lately."

"And you are the most interesting bargaining chip in Dragon Sky City."

As the Meteorite tore at the thin paper in his hand, he slowly stepped forward, approaching Thales' face with overwhelming force, his tone growing increasingly frightening: "Of course, if you and the hand behind you want to do something..." Thales frowned.

Just now.

"enough!"

It was a clear and loud female voice, slightly childish, that suddenly rang out in the open space outside the stables.

Thales let out a breath, and in response, Nicolai gave a disgruntled snort.

Wyatt relaxed, turned around, and mouthed "I'm saved" to Rolf.

Footsteps could be heard outside the stables.

A blonde girl in a dark brown dress arrived at the stables, flanked by the Grand Duke's guards. An elderly but dignified nobleman walked briskly beside her, while the prim and proper Lady Jinx followed behind them with two maids.

Beside the stables, both the Grand Duke's personal guards and the palace guards stepped back and bowed respectfully.

“Lord Nicolai,” the girl who had suddenly appeared continued in her bright voice, like the chirping of a lark, giving one the feeling that the setting sun was about to rise again, “Prince Thales is our honored guest and an ally of Dragon Sky City. He represents the friendship between the Star Family and the Star Kingdom.”

“And you should show the demeanor and actions befitting the honor of the North, my captain of the guard.”

The girl's gaze was fixed on Nikolai, who was confronting Thales. Her expression was calm, yet there was a strange sense of indifference about her.
"After all, we fought alongside him."

The Meteorite took a deep breath, glanced at the prince, then stepped back and bowed slightly to the girl.

“Of course,” Nikolai said coldly, “as you wish.”

"Your Excellency the Grand Duchess."

Thales shrugged, turned around, and gave the girl who had come to his rescue a friendly smile.

He didn't know when it started, but the slovenly little rascal he had met six years ago had become a bright and beautiful girl of fifteen or sixteen—although, nominally, as the daughter of Prince Sulir, she should be eighteen.

The current Grand Duchess of Dragonstreet—Selma Walton—amazed even Thales, who lived with her day and night.

The girl blinked her bright blue eyes, which were more expressive than ever before. Her nose was upturned in an adorable curve, making one want to reach out and gently pinch it. Her lips were slightly full, yet they had a unique texture. Her bright cheeks glowed with a healthy blush, making the two strands of platinum hair that fell from her chest appear even brighter.

The only thing that detracted from her overall brightness was probably the pair of large, thick, black-rimmed glasses on her face.

“Good night, my esteemed and noble Duchess of Dragonstreet, the beautiful and elegant Lady Selma,” Thales said with a relaxed smile. He raised his right hand to Selma, lightly pressed it to his left chest, and gave an elegant, proper bow that no one could find fault with. “Lord Nicolai was just joking with me, please don’t be too harsh on him.”

The girl, Selma, looked at him quietly, her eyes revealing no emotion.

“But I still appreciate your concern, and I will keep that gratitude in my heart,” the prince said, pulling his lips into the perfect curve that Lady Jinx had described, and nodding slightly. “I hope you have a pleasant day, madam.”

“And you two—Count Lisbon and Lady Jinx.” Thales raised an eyebrow, watching as the serious-looking Lisbon and the calm-faced Jinx returned his greeting.

Finally, Selma frowned slightly, pursed her lips into a slight upturn—which made her even more adorable—and slowly stepped forward, looking Thales straight in the eye.

The girl walked up to Thales, pouted, stretched out her hands, and gracefully lifted her skirt, revealing a pair of small deerskin boots and a pair of beautifully curved calves beneath it.

Thales straightened up and couldn't help but notice that the girl's once dirty little hands had become white and smooth, lightly clasped around her waist. Beneath the well-tailored dress, her neck appeared slender, her waist upright, and her slightly ample breasts were firmly held in place by her tight-fitting shirt, radiating youthful vitality.

However, just as Thales thought the Grand Duchess was lifting her skirt to return the bow...

"Boom!"

Thales cried out in pain, stumbled back two steps, and crashed into the stable behind him.

He bent over in pain, rubbing his leg bone where he had been kicked.

Behind the girl, Count Lisbon and Lady Jinx both frowned, while the two maids simultaneously covered their mouths and gasped. Nicolai scratched his neck and shook his head slightly.

Selma snorted and retracted her boots, then with a flick of her wrists, angrily flung off her skirt. With the Grand Duchess's playful gesture, the jeweled headdress around her full forehead shone brightly in the setting sun, and even the dragon spear emblem on her sleeve seemed to gain an extra touch of color.

Prince Xingchen, who had been inexplicably kicked, looked up with an expression of disbelief.

"Hey," Thales protested, feeling the pain in his leg and full of complaints, "Why?"

Selma walked up to Thales, slightly taller than him, and pouted, staring at the guest of the stars with displeasure.

Wyatt and Rolf looked at each other, and wisely stepped back, choosing to abandon their duty and leave their prince behind.

“From the Star Kingdom, esteemed, noble, handsome…” The girl with the icy expression emphasized the last two words: “Prince Thales! Your Highness Thales!”

Thales sighed.

“If you speak to me like that again,” the Grand Duchess glanced unhappily at the large black horse behind him, which was leisurely munching on hay and watching the scene, and threatened in her clear and bright voice:

"Then don't live in the courtyard anymore—come to the stables and sleep with your beloved Jenny!"

Selma snorted, turned around abruptly, her deerskin boots stomping loudly enough to be heard twenty meters away, and stormed off in a huff.

The girl's long hair swept across Thales's cheek, carrying a faint fragrance.

But the unfortunate prince had no energy to care about these little romantic moments. He looked up with a wronged expression at the indifferent Count of Lisbon.

Lady Jinx and her two maids hurried after the Grand Duchess, with the former giving Thales a furrowed brow—as if it were his fault.

“Charles, I’m very tired today,” the Grand Duchess’s clear voice rang out, respectful and polite, a stark contrast to her previous demeanor. “Let’s talk about it tomorrow. I’ll leave the rest to you.”

The Regent of Dragon City, Count Lisbon, also dressed in formal attire, sighed and nodded slightly to the girl's retreating figure: "Of course, my lady."

The Meteorite shook his head dismissively and followed the Grand Duchess.

Selma's footsteps faded into the distance.

"At today's hearing," Thales straightened up, exhaled with displeasure, and said to Lisban, "who has offended her again?"

“No one,” the Regent shook his head expressionlessly, but then he nodded contradictorily, his expression darkening.
"Everyone."

Thales looked puzzled and said with dissatisfaction, "So I'm just destined to be that unlucky target?"

Count Charles Risban, the regent of Dragonsky City who was over sixty years old, probably didn't like Thales much from the first moment he saw him, but this time, the count surprisingly shook his head and apologized to him.

“On behalf of the lady herself, I apologize for her behavior—it was indeed inappropriate, Prince Thales,” the Regent of Lisbon said solemnly. “I will advise her when the time is right.”

"Believe me, this is not her usual behavior."

Thales, who was being wronged for no reason, rolled his eyes.

“Then I shall take my leave, Prince Thales,” the Regent of Lisbon said slowly, watching the Grand Duchess’s retreating figure. “Please convey my gratitude to Lord Putilay.”

Thales nodded helplessly.

Accompanied by his attendants, the Regent turned and left.

Thales watched Risban's departing figure, and his heart sank slightly.

nobody?
Everyone?

According to Lisban... what exactly happened at the hearing?
Add to that Nikolai's recent warning that "Dragon City will not be peaceful," and his inexplicable yet hostile search...

Also, Putilai arrived in Dragon City at this time.

Thales, who had been deep in thought, looked up, a slight unease creeping into his heart.

Something big has happened.

He needed to find Putilay as soon as possible to hear the Lord's report.

The big black horse poked its head out of the fence and playfully touched the prince's cheek.

“As expected,” Thales said, putting aside his complicated thoughts. He hugged Jenny’s head and sighed deeply, “You’re still the best, Jenny.”

At this moment, Ada, who had been missing for a long time, suddenly appeared out of nowhere.

Clutching two dead rabbits in each hand, she exclaimed excitedly to the stunned Wyatt and Rolf, "Hey, little Thales, look what I've hunted! Tonight we'll set fire to ourselves, we'll definitely..."

The prince turned to her seriously.

“Eda,” Thales’s expression changed, and he put on a fierce look, coldly snorting at the elf, “If you ever slack off and go hunting again…”

"...Then don't live in the courtyard."

"Move in here and sleep with Jenny!"

Ada stood there, stunned.

Just then, the Grand Duchess's angry shouts rang out again from afar:
"Thales!"

"What are you still dawdling about!"

"Do you want to eat dinner or not?!"

Thales took a deep breath, pulled at his face, and reversed his demeanor from "the wronged prince" back to "the cheerful young man".

Dinner.

Of course I do.

I just don't want to eat with a little lioness who's been provoked.

The young prince could only sigh to the heavens, muttering to himself, "How cute he was when he was little," while listlessly shouting, "Here he comes, here he comes!"

Without hesitation, Thales turned around and strode toward Selma.

Ada, who was holding the rabbit and looked completely bewildered, looked at Wyatt and Rolf in confusion.

Jenny snorted in the stable and lowered her head to continue enjoying her meal.

"What's wrong with those two little brats?" Ada, under the cloak, glanced at Jenny and shook the rabbit in her hand.

“You know,” Wyman sighed, touching his nose:
"It's nice to be young."

In the distance, Count Lisbon stopped and slowly turned his head to glance in the direction of the stables.

Yes, you were used as a target for Her Majesty the Grand Duchess's anger, Prince Thales.

however.

She'll only see you as a "target".

This is where the problem lies.

With a deep gaze, the Lisbon Regent turned and left.

The reason why weekends are called weekends is because they are days when both authors and readers can rest.
So... extra chapters and stuff... you know what I mean.

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(End of this chapter)