Kingdom Bloodline

Chapter 295 An unexpected invitation

What is your impression of magic?

"Use powerful fireballs to blast the grasslands into white? Use mesmerizing magic to deceive people and pursue power? Win the cheers and admiration of foolish nobles with street-corner stunts? Adorn your status and image with what others perceive as an incomparably powerful mystery? Or eliminate your enemies in battle and slaughter, bringing laughable pleasure and satisfaction?"

Thales lowered his head thoughtfully.

But his heart was already trembling.

magic.

magic?

What exactly is magic...?

“You know, for a long time I always thought that mages were people with great power, who could casually unleash a fireball,” the prince said absentmindedly, “or that they would hide in a tower and never leave, researching a spell that could destroy the world, or that they would be those old scholars who obsessively pursued the truth… But now you’re telling me…”

Ashida leaned back in his chair and snorted coldly.

“Indeed, the Soul Tower’s magic system is the greatest heresy in the history of magic. It was not recognized by other mages at first: they ridiculed us as ‘speakers of magic,’ and we retorted that they were nothing more than ‘tricksters.’”

"For example, the Alchemy Tower stubbornly believes that magic is about deeply studying the relationship between humans and nature and using the latter's resources for one's own use—it's not surprising that they have such ideas, after all, the Alchemy Tower, known as the 'War Tower,' rose to prominence in the war between humans and ancient orcs, starting with lethality and practicality, and relying on survival and victory—very similar to the kind of mage you described who throws fireballs and studies spells."

“But we are different,” the mage said, his tone serious and cautious. “The concept of the Tower of Souls ultimately shook the entire history of magic, even influencing ascetics and alchemists.”

Thales frowned: "You mean..."

"If magic cannot, beyond satisfying its own basic needs and desires, give the world some meaning, offer some possibilities for the future, and provide humanity with some value..." Ashida turned her head, squinted her eyes, her face calm yet exuding immense pressure.

"Then what's the point of all the effort we put into gathering mages, summarizing calculations, relentlessly researching, passing on the seeds and ideas of magic one after another, and constantly striving for further progress amidst doubt and criticism?"

“If magic is merely reduced to a slave to its user, a tool for selfishness and a means to flaunt status, a cloak for gaining dignity and capital for fulfilling desires, an excuse for mages to live in seclusion and claim transcendence,” Ashida’s expression remained stiff, but Thales inexplicably sensed a deeper layer of emotion hidden behind his face: “Then what is the difference between the existence of mages and the power-hungry nobles, the farmers and hunters seeking only sustenance, the warriors on the battlefield who kill enemies and gain merit, the merchants and craftsmen who are solely focused on profit, and the hermits who feign profundity?”

"Then what is the point of us, as monks, pursuing truth and correctness, and what is our purpose?"

"To survive? To live better? To live more enjoyably? To live for others? To become smarter and stronger, so that countless people who are more foolish and weaker than you will prostrate themselves on the ground, marveling at your achievements and worshipping your status?"

“No, Thales,” Ashida said slowly, “that was not a mage, at least not the kind of mage we recognize, but a parasite that had the word ‘magic’ written on its only fig leaf.”

Thales pondered the other person's words, becoming lost in thought: "Is this also part of the mage course?"

Ashida nodded solemnly: "Of course, and it's of utmost importance."

"Don't let existing frameworks confine you, Thales, unleash your mind."

Thales stared at him blankly.

The mage let out a slow sigh—Taylor almost forgot that he could still breathe: "Do you remember what I said? In the Tower of Souls, in the concept of the Seat of All Laws, magic is a choice, not a monotonous tool or means, and being a mage is a recognition, not a vulgar status or identity."

“And that was my choice and my conviction back then,” Ashida looked him straight in the eye, “and that was my magic.”

Aishida fell silent.

But Thales was so engrossed in the powerful conversation that he couldn't return for a long time.

"Mr. Sakorn, what exactly is the Tower of Souls?" he asked in a dreamlike voice.

Aishida paused for a moment.

Three seconds later, the mage slowly clenched his hands.

“The Tower of Souls,” Ashida began very slowly, her voice low and deep, as if there were sandpaper behind her throat: “the holy land of mages, the hope of apprentices, the future of magic, where countless thoughts and ideas collide fiercely.”

"The truths we believed in were refined and honed through repeated lectures and discussions, and countless like-minded peers moved forward step by step through their debates."

Every day is a new day, because there are always new things waiting for you, always new people in the future, because old things are always left behind, and old people always fall away…

In that instant, Ashida seemed to remember something; he stopped speaking and instead lowered his head to look at the chessboard.

It was as if some taboo had been broken.

His face darkened, and the blue light in his eyes gradually disappeared.

Thales noticed the teacher's expression and unusual behavior, and wisely refrained from asking further questions.

Everyone has their own story.

But not everyone is willing to confide in others.

not to mention……

“Hearing you say that makes me really want to see it for myself,” Thales sighed. “It seems like the Tower of Souls is a very grand and wonderful place.”

Aishida suddenly raised her head
“Of course not,” the mage’s tone turned particularly cold this time. “Even the Soul Tower has its own filth and darkness, ugliness and compromises.”

"In the end, a mage is just a human being."

“Remember, Thales, an organization, a place, a group, as long as it’s made up of people,” the mage stared intently at Thales, “it’s never going to be that great.”

"Just like the vortex you're in, the game you're in."

The prince raised an eyebrow, somewhat embarrassed: "Huh?"

But Ashida ignored him and simply turned to look outside the private room.

"Perhaps this is the limit of human capability."

Thales swore that after the last word, he heard the mage let out a barely perceptible sigh.

In this scene under the setting sun, the mage's face is still handsome, but there are some lines that he doesn't usually have.

It looks like the artist added a few extra strokes.

"get out of class is over."

Aishida gazed at the setting sun and said softly.

The next second, before Thales could even show his astonishment, the mage's figure faded away.

“Sigh,” Thales sighed helplessly, looking at the empty seat and the checkmate board once again. “It’s the same again.”

And so, once again, Thales ended his day of playing chess and, accompanied by Justin, Wyatt, and others, listlessly prepared to return home.

I've already received enough surprises today.

Perhaps he shouldn't add any more burdens to himself, given the unpredictable nature of Dragon Sky City...

Ok?
Thales looked up at the commotion ahead with a puzzled expression.

"What's going on?" Lord Justin, the former deputy commander of the White Blade Guard, looked past the prince, his anger barely contained as he stared at the scene before him.

At the entrance of the card room, dozens of Grand Duchess's personal guards coldly gripped their weapons, tensely confronting a dozen or so unfamiliar soldiers who had come from the next alley.

Those soldiers were clearly not from Dragon Sky City; they were menacing and showed no sign of weakness.

Behind them was a dark brown enclosed carriage.

Wyatt and Rolf looked at each other, puzzled.

Thales frowned and recognized the leader of the unfamiliar soldiers—a female warrior with a buzz cut and a round face.

“Prince Thales, on behalf of Black Sand Territory, I extend an invitation to you for talks,” said Lady Chloesie Mailke, the current deputy commander of the White Blade Guard, her expression aloof, as she gestured towards the carriage guarded by Black Sand Territory soldiers behind her.
"Viscount Cambida is in the carriage. He invites you to come in and give him a few minutes for a talk."

Thales was slightly taken aback.

What… “Talks? Now?”

Thales felt a surge of doubt and wariness: "What does Kambida want to tell me?"

“I don’t know,” Kroesh said softly, a cold glint in her eyes. “That’s your judgment.”

Just then, Viscount Cambida's voice came from the direction of the carriage:
"I assure you, Your Highness, you will regret it if you miss this carriage ride."

"Believe me, this is crucial."

Thales felt a chill run down his spine.

Too late to regret? Crucial?
"Why do we need to get in the carriage?" Thales narrowed his eyes and asked warily, "We can go upstairs, or find another place."

Why in the carriage?

“Look around you,” Chloesh glanced at the Grand Duke’s guards with an unpleasant look, “In Dragonsreach, is there any private place within ten meters of you?”

Justin, who was in charge of protecting Thales, tensed up.

Thales looked at Chloesie with suspicion, then at the carriage behind her.

strangeness.

Black Sand Territory... wants to talk to me.

At this time?
Damn it, why isn't Putila here?
"Impossible!" Lord Justin, wary, immediately refused. "If you wish to see the prince, you may..."

“We’ve had enough of the blockade of Dragonstreet,” Chloe said without backing down, ignoring her predecessor. “Your Highness, this is the closest we’ve been to you in a month. Believe me, we just want to talk to you.”

Just as Thales was about to speak, his mind racing with countless thoughts, Justin spoke first.

“Aishie, I still remember what you looked like when you were a child,” Lord Justin stepped forward, his expression growing increasingly grim. “I had a good relationship with your father, and I was pleased that you became a member of the White Blade Guard, so…”

"Don't make me do it."

Behind him, Thales took a deep breath.

So to say……

“Then you’d better do it now, Uncle Justin,” Kroesh snapped, “or let the prince decide for himself—he’s a guest, not a prisoner!”

Justin's face turned cold, and he was about to draw his weapon when the Grand Duke's guards around him also prepared to attack with unfriendly expressions.

Just now.

Lord Justin!

Under the watchful eyes of everyone, the prince gently stepped forward.

Thales raised his hand and pressed it against Justin's shoulder.

At this time?
The prince gazed at the carriage of the Black Sand Territory, his thoughts racing.

At a time when Exter's relationship with the Liberal Alliance was delicate.

While the situation in Qiyuan City remained uncertain.

When Longxiao City was caught in a dilemma.

The people of Black Sand Territory want to talk to me, to a powerless and awkwardly positioned prince from an enemy kingdom?
So suspicious.

Thales shook his head and said to Justin, “This is Dragonfall City. They are the king’s envoys. It’s unwise to start a pointless conflict—and you know what kind of situation we’re in.”

Justin frowned deeply: "But you know, they are, after all, Black Sand Territory..."

Wyman couldn't help but speak up: "Excuse my bluntness, Your Highness, your safety..."

“Listen to me!” Thales turned to look at his own men.

"Facing the King, the Grand Duchess needs new intelligence—and this is undoubtedly an opportunity to see what they're up to in Dragonstreet." He said to Justin, who was frowning, "For Dragonstreet."

Justin was speechless.

“And she’s right—I’m a guest.”

“Wyatt, the carriage is right here, and I won’t just disappear into thin air,” Thales smiled at his attendant.

Justin and Wyman exchanged a glance, both sensing unease.

“Besides,” the prince calmly turned to Chloesie, looking at the soldiers behind her, “the men of Black Sand Territory will guarantee my safety, won’t they?”

Kroesi nodded, pressed his hand to his left chest, and said respectfully, "I swear by my life and the honor of the king."

"You will get off the bus safely in a few minutes."

Thales glanced at Justin and Wyatt, who were still skeptical, and shrugged.

Rolf, however, nodded at him.

“Go and inform the boss and the Earl,” Lord Justin finally nodded hesitantly, but at the same time he cautiously ordered his subordinates, “Make sure they know about this as soon as possible.”

“Do you know how important you are, Your Highness?” Wyatt stared at the carriage with a grim expression. “Just like the Meteorite said, you always manage to give us trouble.”

The prince smiled.

"That's why I need you, Wyman, and you, Midila."

He gently pushed aside the two guards blocking his way and, accompanied by Wyatt and Rolf, entered the Black Sand Territory's formation.

The displeased attendant and the ghost of the wind were stopped in front of the carriage.

Thales tossed the book in his hand to Wyatt and started walking away alone.

Whatever Black Sand Territory wants to tell you, Thales.

We must remain calm and cautious.

You've experienced Rumba's prowess and witnessed Kambida's cunning.

Be careful when facing your greatest enemy.

The next second, Thales, with a heart as calm as a lake, opened the car door and boarded the carriage, which was not even lit.

Inside the carriage, the silhouette of Kambida sat quietly in the darkness, his clothes barely visible.

“I always felt this was your revenge for me refusing to speak to you alone on the road back then,” Thales said, closing the car door, letting out a breath, and sitting down opposite Cambida. “Viscount Cambida…”

But the prince was suddenly jolted!
That's not Kambida.

That is……

“Long time no see, Thales,” the other man said, gently lifting his gaze from the sword at his knee.
Are you old enough to drink?

That is……

How dare they...

At this moment, Thales's mind was almost blank.

Inside the carriage, Chaman Lumba, the 46th co-ruler of Exter and master of Black Sand Territory, opened his eyes, which gleamed with a cold light, in the deep gloom.

(End of this chapter)