Kingdom Bloodline

Chapter 285 The Glory and Shame of the Dragon (Part 1)

In the corridor of Valhalla, Thales, with a headache, straightened his sleeves, trying to smooth out the nine-pointed star emblem from his upper arm to his shoulder, as he walked step by step beside Selma.

“Based on the experience of the past six years,” the second prince said, with a hint of annoyance and worry, “the king’s envoys usually arrive during the change of seasons, don’t they? And they usually come for…”

“To check on you,” Selma nodded absentmindedly. She looked at the flustered Thales, sighed, rolled her eyes, reached out to help him straighten his epaulettes, and said irritably, “to confirm that some unfortunate prince is still in his pet cage.”

“Oh,” Thales frowned and snorted expressionlessly, “thanks for reminding me, really.”

The Earl of Lisbon behind him coughed softly.

The Regent silently reached out and placed his hand on Thales' shoulder.

“...and to monitor, remind, and warn Dragonstreet—we are the greatest threat in King Chaman’s eyes,” Risban said solemnly, subtly pushing him two steps away. “This has never changed, even when Walton lost the throne and Dragonstreet was in a state of panic.”

"Especially when the future of both Starry Sky and Walton lies in Dragon City."

Thales raised an eyebrow, looking at Risban, who had unknowingly walked between him and Selma.

In dealing with Thales, Count Risban's attitude was always one of distance and vigilance, even with an undeniable hostility. However, when facing the Black Sand Territory and King Chaman, this most trusted vassal and assistant of Nun showed rare signs of trust and goodwill in their shared hatred of the enemy, and frequently reminded Thales that they were on the same side.

Thales recalled what Putila had told him: "If I remember correctly, King Chaman is still arguing with his vassals over the new decree of fiefdom, while Grand Duke Ronnie of Qiyuan City and his allies are waving flags and shouting throughout the land, denouncing the king's disrespect for tradition..."

"That seems to be Charman's most pressing concern, rather than worrying about two powerless brats?"

Selma rolled her eyes at him.

“So this is the interesting part,” Risban said, seemingly oblivious to Thales’s sarcasm, his gaze sweeping over the two teenagers. “Guess why they’re here?”

Thales let out a sigh of relief: "To win over Dragon City, to gain external support for Rumba's pitifully low popularity at home, and to fight against opponents like Ronnie?"

Selma's face darkened.

But she immediately took a deep breath, trying her best to show a solemn and indifferent expression, just like in the past six years: "Then they have made a mistake. Dragon City is the least likely force to stand with him—we all know what happened six years ago."

"No one can forget."

Thales smacked his lips as he recalled that night and sighed, "So that's what I was worried about."

Lisban snorted coldly, his eyes filled with vigilance: "We'll find out."

The next moment, they turned a corner, and Nicolai and Justin, who had been waiting in front of them, nodded to them and pushed open a door that was extremely familiar to both Thales and Selma.

Surrounded by guards on his back and sides, Prince Star walked behind the Grand Duchess and the Regent and stepped into the solemn oval stone hall.

The Hall of Heroes has changed a lot since six years ago. The biggest difference is that the heavy rectangular table that represented the King and the nine Grand Dukes has been removed.

It seems to have disappeared from history along with the reign of the born king.

Only one heavy, simple cedar chair remained in the hall, perched atop three steps.

On the fireplace behind, the famous Soul-Slaying Spear still lay quietly on its rack.

Thales stopped at the foot of the steps below the chair, while Nicolai and Risban stepped up one step before turning to face the hall. Only the Grand Duchess, with a serious expression, lifted her skirt and walked up the steps toward the chair.

The prince watched with mixed feelings as Selma skillfully and nervously sat down in the chair that was almost four or five people wide, reserved exclusively for the lord of Dragonsky City. She first placed her arms on the armrests like a kitten stepping into unfamiliar territory, then took a deep breath, straightened her back and puffed out her chest, and looked up at the hall with feigned arrogance and aloofness.

Like a lion cub that has just learned to walk, it lets out an immature roar at the pride.

Judging from the girl's expression, sitting on it probably wasn't very comfortable.

Six years.

She's still not used to it.

She got this position because of me.

Because of me, she had no choice.

Selma seemed to sense something, and the girl stiffly turned her head to look at Thales, her eyes revealing an discomfort that only the prince could understand.

For a moment, Thales didn't dare to look at the chair and its owner anymore. He turned his head slightly and stared at the floor tiles with a gloomy expression.

The next moment, the messenger's deep and melodious shouts rang out in the hall:

"The Viscount of Menton, from the Black Sand Territory, the King's special envoy and Goose Keeper, and the Second Assistant Advisor to the Royal Council, is LS. Cambida!"

The atmosphere in the entire Hall of Heroes instantly became tense.

Nicolai casually swung the hilt of his sword over his right shoulder, while Risban habitually put his hands behind his back.

The guards on both sides straightened their backs, pursed their lips, and even the veteran guards who had served in the White Blade Guard unconsciously adjusted their breathing and showed the most serious and fierce expressions.

They knew who the visitors were.

As two footsteps approached, a man and a woman appeared at the entrance of the Hall of Heroes.

Thales narrowed his eyes.

Six years had passed. Kambida, King Chaman's chief strategist, the tall lord who once led two thousand soldiers to "escort" the prince to Dragonstreet, appeared much more mature. Compared to his military attire back then, he was now dressed simply, but his steps were still brisk, and coupled with a polite smile that held a scrutinizing air, Thales couldn't help but feel that he was more difficult to deal with than before.

But he wasn't the most eye-catching person.

Kambida's companions passed by the messenger but stopped in their tracks.

This is a female warrior with a buzz cut, fully armored, whose aura is no less imposing than the latter. The longsword hanging at her waist has a familiar white hilt.

"What?" The female soldier turned her sharp gaze and looked directly at the messenger at the door:
"Isn't it customary to register female guests?"

At the far end of the hall, several people, including Thales, looked curiously toward the entrance.

"It's always been this way, no need to worry about it," the messenger said, looking back at the female warrior with a wary but unyielding gaze, and gave a soft snort through his nose: "Welcome to the North."

The female warrior chuckled softly: "Is that so?"

"Even if you've been ruled by a woman for six years?"

The messenger frowned, seemingly taken aback by those words.

Cambida, who was walking ahead, had to stop.

"Aishie," he said softly to his companion, rubbing his forehead with a hint of helplessness.

“It’s alright,” the female warrior said, seemingly ignoring Kanbida’s warning, still staring at the disdainful messenger. “I’ll do it myself.”

The next second, the round-faced female warrior turned around and faced the entire hall!
She looked straight to the other end of the hall and spoke loudly without hesitation: "The deputy commander of the White Blade Guard from Dragonsky City, Ironclad County, and Peck Village, His Majesty Charman's aide and personal guard..."

"Lady Chloesie Mailke!"

"We have come here to pay our respects..."

"Grand Duchess of Dragon Sky City!"

The woman's voice was melodious and bright, echoing in every corner of the hall.

Even to Thales, who was standing on the other end, the voice was clearly audible.

The guards on both sides of the hall changed their expressions. They looked at the deputy commander of the White Blade Guard, who had signed up, with astonishment, as if he were a rare sight at a market.

Thales frowned slightly, but then a smile appeared on his lips.

Lady, with an audience with the Grand Duchess.

Could people in the North have imagined this scene six years ago?

"Have you learned it now?"

Kroeshe raised an eyebrow, calmly looking back at the speechless, bewildered messenger. She snapped her fingers in front of him without any attempt to hide it, snapping him out of his reverie: "And..."

The female warrior let out a pleasant hum:
Welcome to the North.

The messenger stared at her blankly, unable to react for a long time.

Viscount Kanbida sighed, closed his eyes, and urged the person behind him in a pitiful tone, "Aishie—"

But before he could finish speaking, Chloesh shoved him onto her shoulder without any mercy, and he staggered forward!

“Focus on your business,” the female warrior said with a sneer as she resumed her steps, “and don’t call me that again.”

Caught off guard by the sudden shove, Kambida gave an awkward laugh and turned around to wave sheepishly at the messenger: "Sorry, Ashe is always a bit too—ah—passionate!"

With a cold expression, Chloe gave him another push, and the Viscount had no choice but to force a smile of compromise, straighten his clothes, and walk into the hall.

From the distant seat of the eldest princess, Selma frowned, looking at the two who had just caused the commotion: "Were they doing this on purpose?"

Lisban shook his head: "I don't know, but at least the viscount didn't deliberately stop it."

"That says a lot."

“That being said,” Thales shrugged, looking at Chloe in the distance, and couldn’t help but remark, “But… she’s quite a special lady.”

Especially in the north.

"So free-spirited and unrestrained, it's truly astonishing."

The prince stared in a daze at the elegant Chloesie, and couldn't help but think of Sonia Sathere, the fortress flower who laughed heartily in the pool of blood and tossed her hair.

The next moment, Thales realized that the three people on the steps were looking at him with strange expressions.

The prince then stopped smiling and coughed lightly:
"sorry."

The two men, Kambida and his companion, finally stopped five meters away from the main seat. The Viscount looked at the young Grand Duchess in the seat with great interest.

Selma silently endured his gaze, her grip on the chair tightening.

The Earl of Lisbon frowned slightly.

"Good day, Madam, Miss, Her Excellency Grand Duchess Walton." Viscount Cambida bowed slightly, seemingly oblivious to the tense atmosphere in the hall. "Please allow me to convey the King's greetings and blessings: May your reign in Dragonsreach be successful."

Thales clearly sensed that the gesture was somewhat disrespectful; in comparison, Chloesie's bow was much more sincere. Selma nodded slightly, glancing at Risban before speaking cautiously and without emotion, "Of course, please also convey my gratitude to His Majesty."

She leaned back in her chair and didn't say anything more.

Viscount Cambida's eyes flickered, his gaze sweeping over the taciturn Grand Duchess and the serious-faced Risban, before a meaningful smile appeared on his face.

“I don’t seem to see those familiar high-ranking officials of Dragonsreach,” the Viscount said, glancing around with an air of importance. “Where are the earls besides Regent Lisbon? Wasn’t yesterday the day of court hearings?”

“This is not a formal diplomatic mission,” Lisban himself replied coldly. “There’s no need to bother them.”

"Is this really a good idea?" Kambida asked, feigning slight surprise.

"I heard that they were discussing the Grand Duchess's marriage yesterday? I heard that Earl Nagil's descendant and Earl Hearst are both good candidates for the Grand Duchess's husband?"

"But you ignored them when the King's special envoy arrived?"

Thales's breath hitched.

"Your information network is truly impressive. Only a direct vassal of Longxiao City could know this with such certainty."

After a barely perceptible moment of surprise, Count Lisbon quickly replied, his tone unfriendly: "Could it be that you've bribed some rat in the Hall of Heroes again?"

Kambida laughed: "How could we dare? The vassals of Dragonsky City have always been loyal and devoted. How could they possibly be bribed by us?"

“I was just saying that the palace is infested with rats,” Lisban replied nonchalantly. “Why did you make that connection to vassals, Your Excellency?”

Kambida raised an eyebrow.

Charles Risban, the former prime minister who served the kingdom for decades, the most capable assistant to the born king, and a man once known as "Dragon Eyes".

He lives up to his reputation as a formidable opponent—at least in terms of verbal sparring.

Moreover, he remains strong even in old age.

"It's been years since we last met. I'm so glad to see you healthy and well," the next second, Kanbida turned his gaze to the only boy in the room with the nine-pointed star emblem without hesitation, and smiled: "On behalf of the King, I inquire: how have you been lately?"

"Prince Thales".

Lisban and Nicolai both frowned.

They looked at Thales.

Selma blinked, and while surprised, she actually breathed a sigh of relief, seemingly glad that the prince had shared the pressure of the opening.

Thales frowned, bearing the stares from everyone—especially Lisban—as he looked back at the smiling Cambida with suspicion.

Damn it.

This guy……

He spoke as if I knew Rumba very well.

Although I am indeed "very familiar" with him.

But Thales then remembered Gilbert's words.

[Please be careful, Prince Thales… In diplomacy, there are no meaningless arguments or words—this is a probing and preparation before a duel, the other side is testing our strengths and weaknesses, preparing for the final strike.]

The prince, who had been feeling rather troubled, subconsciously composed himself and took the situation seriously.

“It has indeed been many years since we last met, Your Excellency Viscount Cambida, but…”

Thales forced himself to speak and said, "No illness or disaster, healthy and well..."

"Why do your words sound like you're comforting elderly people who don't have much time left?"

The haughty Selma chuckled.

Kambida's polite yet smug smile froze on his face.

Kroeshe, standing next to him, blew a breath without any attempt to hide it, seemingly mocking Kambida.

Coincidentally, Count Lisbon, who rarely smiled, also gave a cold laugh at this moment.

"Still as quick-witted as ever."

Kambida glanced around at the unfriendly gazes and had to put away his smile, awkwardly saying, "His Majesty misses you very much, Your Highness. He often mentions that you two still owe each other a cup of wine."

Thales sighed inwardly again.

Lisban's gaze swept towards him again.

“You know, eighteen years ago, my uncle Bancroft died from a cup of poison,” the prince scratched his head, “owing a cup of wine—are you sure that’s the king’s exact words?”

Kambida, having reached a dead end in the conversation, shut his mouth.

He frowned slightly to himself.

It seems His Majesty was right.

Our trip is going to be very interesting.

Just then, Count Lisbon laughed.

"Let's cut out the useless nonsense and provocations, and get straight to the point."

“As the ‘Night Falcon,’ who has risen to prominence in the Black Sand Territory in recent years, Viscount Cambida,” the Regent’s laughter echoed throughout the hall, “what brings you here?”

Night Falcon?

Can you northerners come up with a nickname that's even a little more imaginative?

When Thales recalled that Duke Aarond's nickname was "Iron Eagle," he couldn't help but think to himself.

Lisban turned his head and looked at Cambida.

"With his own territory in turmoil and Ronnie's anti-king alliance causing him both internal and external troubles, King Chaman wouldn't have sent you here merely to sow discord, would he?" The count's voice carried an indescribable authority, reminding Thales of the long-deceased, born king. "You can't save your troubled and overburdened king with mere words."

"So, what important intelligence did you bring?"

Kambida looked up, the smile on his face gradually fading.

His gaze toward Risban slowly turned serious:

"I must admit that some minor disagreements have arisen between the Grand Dukes and His Majesty."

Thales sneered inwardly.

A minor disagreement?
"But I believe that for the common future of the Exter people, we can stand together,"

"For the shared honor and disgrace of Exster, we can overcome any hardship together."

Viscount Kambida's expression turned cold, and he uttered a sentence that moved everyone present:
"Like now."

Thales' heart skipped a beat.

Now?

and many more.

He said, for the common good of Exster…

That means...

The silence in the hall lasted for a few seconds.

The shrewd and astute Earl of Lisbon had already realized something.

"Shared honor and disgrace?" The old count stared intently at Cambida's expression, then slowly and deliberately spoke, "What?"

He jumped straight to his conclusion: "Is war about to break out?"

Thales' eyelids twitched.

Cambida raised an eyebrow slightly, seemingly surprised by the count's answer.

To Thales's unease, the next second, Cambida appeared with a smile...

nodded.

The funeral arrangements for my grandmother, including the vigil, farewell, funeral procession, cremation, and burial, have gone smoothly so far.

Tomorrow is the seventh day after the death of the deceased. After some traditional worship and banquets, the funeral will be over.

While tending to the memorial tablets, I managed to write this chapter. Thank you to all the readers for your understanding and support over the past week!

There's probably no other book that can stay in the top ten of the fantasy bestseller list every day after a six-day hiatus (ㄒ_ㄒ).

This week, Kingdom has also had its share of setbacks. Just as the plagiarism incident ended, it encountered a supernatural event: between 12:30 pm and 2:30 pm on July 11, the Kingdom Bloodline PC page was bombarded with over 500 three-star negative reviews by a bunch of alt accounts.

The phrase "without a sword" can only express a state of being caught between laughter and tears, a situation that is neither laughable nor lamentable.

The editor was also helpless, saying that we were probably being targeted, and it was within the rules, so the technical backend couldn't do anything about it. I could only shrug and wait for the day when someone would flood the comments with zero-star ratings.

Haha, just kidding.

Just like Thales' experience, Wujian believes that only fire can forge true steel, and only by stopping updates can good chapters be produced (just kidding).

Moreover, it's only received over five hundred negative reviews, which is far from being "fiery".

(Patting the commenter earnestly) The revolution is not yet complete, comrades, we still need to work hard.

Everyone, wait for me to come back!
By Wujian, who was alone tending the memorial tablet, preparing to continue the incense offering.

Those who say Wujian's skill level drops due to his mood... cough cough, what nonsense! It must be because the dog next door isn't skilled enough!


(End of this chapter)