Kingdom Bloodline

Chapter 302 isn't too bad?

clang!
Swords and axes clashed.

Nicolai blocked Thales's way with a cold expression.

“I’m trying to be polite, Your Excellency, so I’m trying not to think about it,” Thales said through gritted teeth, struggling to catch his breath as he tightened his grip. “But you know how serious this is, and just to be on the safe side, please forgive me for asking: Does the Scarlet Witch know this secret?”

"If she knew...did it come from you?"

In fact, Thales had overheard their conversation years ago.

The Scarlet Witch did know this secret; she had confided it to Nicolai.

But Thales still asked that question.

because……

“No,” Nikolai effortlessly blocked Thales’s blade, his expression unchanged, and answered decisively: “Of course she doesn’t know—at least not from me—otherwise she wouldn’t have missed the opportunity to take advantage of it.”

In that instant, Thales's eyes changed.

He gazed into the eyes of the Fallen Star through the sword and axe, his mind churning with emotion.

He was deliberately hiding it from me, hiding the fact that the Scarlet Witch knew the truth.

why?
Are you afraid that if I find out, I'll keep asking, "Why did the Scarlet Witch spare us?"

Still afraid, what secret is hidden in the matter of the Scarlet Witch "letting us go"?
A secret that leads to the conclusion that "it doesn't matter if this Grand Duchess isn't of Walton blood"?

such as……

Is it.

At that moment, Thales's heart grew heavier and heavier.

He stepped back and moved the sword away.

“Very good,” Thales said, looking up with a beaming smile, as if he had breathed a sigh of relief and returned to his leisurely prince persona. “Although I don’t believe it either—it’s much more reassuring to hear you confirm it yourself.”

Nicolai frowned at him, offering not a single smile.

“Then let’s try a different approach,” Thales said, breathing heavily as if deep in thought. “Is it possible that anyone, anyone who knows this secret from you, could have been in contact with the Scarlet Witch?”

Nicolai's axe blade flashed: "Anyone?"

Thales felt a pang of sadness.

He acquiesced.

He tacitly acknowledged that the Scarlet Witch knew the little devil's secret.

Therefore, the "how could it be?" statement just now did not mean "how could the Scarlet Witch possibly know?"

Instead, the question was, "How could the Scarlet Witch possibly have leaked the secret?"

Thales composed himself and nodded calmly: "Does Lisban know the Grand Duchess's true identity?"

"You didn't tell him anything in six years?"

This time, he clearly saw that Nikolai's expression remained completely still.

It was as if it were frozen in ice.

Thales let out a long sigh.

“Uncle Nikolai,” the prince said, looking somewhat anxious, as if he were genuinely worried about something, “we’re not talking about any lighthearted pre-dinner jokes.”

Thales' eyelids narrowed slightly: "It's not about the life or death of Dragon City."

He turned to the girl practicing with a dagger beside him: "And the rule of Selma."

"Rumba holds our greatest weakness, and your evasiveness and hesitation will only increase our troubles."

"People from the North".

A few seconds later, Nikolai raised his head expressionlessly and looked at him calmly.

Not a word was said.

Thales looked at the silent Nikolai, sighed, and raised his sword.

"So you told him."

Nikolai raised his axe, absentmindedly blocking Thales's light, powerless sword strike.

“Impossible,” the Meteorite said, his face stiffening as if he had witnessed the most terrifying thing: “He has no reason to betray us, and he could not have leaked the information to the enemy.”

Thales gave a soft hum.

“Who knows, Earl Charles Lisbán, the former prime minister of the kingdom, he’s only loyal to Walton,” Thales said meaningfully. “If he knew the truth about the Grand Duchess, knew that he wasn’t serving Walton, wouldn’t he feel that he was more suited to serve her…”

Nicolai looked up abruptly, gritting his teeth: "Precisely because he's loyal to Walton, it's even more impossible!"

Thales did not speak.

He simply looked at the other person with a complicated expression.

Why are you so sure and confident?

Why is there so much confidence in Risbane's unwavering service to a girl who had no connection to Walton, following King Nunn's dying wish?

Thales sighed softly:

"Don't forget, Walton's direct bloodline is actually extinct."

Nikolai trembled slightly.

"Is the late king's dying wish, conveyed through his personal guards, so supreme after the death of the Heavenly King?" Thales shoved Nikolai aside, sneering repeatedly, "So that it could make a highly respected traditional lord of the North set aside his dignity and habits, and condescend to a girl who is not actually of his lord's blood?"

“Unless King Nuen is still alive, how could a vassal who almost controls the power of Dragon City remain loyal to a powerless and vulnerable girl for decades?”

Thales shrugged. "You know, if it's Lisbon, then Walton's nominal rule is probably over—the secret he holds is enough to overthrow the Grand Duchess..."

“I said it was impossible!” Nicolai’s dissatisfaction was extremely evident: “You know nothing, and you don’t understand Risban.”

Thales looked at the Fallen One's appearance and sighed softly in his heart.

Yes.

Lisban doesn't seem like that kind of person, and he wouldn't be foolish enough to trade secrets with the Black Sand Territory. So...

There is only one explanation.

Because Lisban knew that everything he had painstakingly built was still for the purpose of loyalty to Walton.

His true allegiance still rests with the bloodline of King Nuen.

"Your concern ends here. Unless the Black Sand Territory contacts you again," Nikolai said coldly.

"I will handle this matter."

"You wouldn't be foolish enough to confront him directly, would you, Lisban?" the prince said calmly, "based on the affection and favor of the late king?"

Nikolai turned away dismissively, ignoring him and stepping back a certain distance.

Until Thales' next sentence.

"Have you forgotten that traitor?" Thales sneered at him. "Have you forgotten how you refused to believe his betrayal until he himself appeared in Valhalla?"

"Until you personally kill that traitor—Kaslan Lumba?"

These words were like a spark that ignited a straw; Nicolai turned around abruptly and punched Thales in the stomach!
Boom!
But to the Astronaut's surprise, Thales seemed to have become a different person, quickly reaching out with both hands to firmly grasp his habitually veered punch.

“That’s right. Keep a low profile and pretend nothing’s wrong,” Thales said through gritted teeth, gripping the other’s arm tightly. “Because many times, even I don’t know who the enemy and friend are in Dragon City.”

Nikolai frowned and stared at him. A few seconds later, the Meteorite rudely withdrew his arm, causing the prince to stumble.

He glanced at Selma, who was practicing daggers with Justin in the distance, and pursed his lips: "Did you tell the Grand Duchess about this?"

"Black Sand Territory's bargaining chips and threats?"

“No,” Thales exhaled, shaking his numb hands as the numbness from the Sin of the River of Hell slowly subsided. “Not for now.”

“Very well, then let’s remain silent,” Nikolai seemed to have calmed down, his gaze fixed on Selma. “She doesn’t need to know this.”

"As for this matter, White Blade... the Grand Duke's personal guard will investigate it."

silence.

After a long while, Thales sighed sadly, stood up, and stopped looking at the Meteorite.

"Is it."

“You think you can protect her with longswords and shields,” Thales said with a knowing snort, watching the Grand Duchess practice, “so you only teach her to use daggers.”

He shook his head: "Think about it: when the enemy's sword came down in front of her, the weak and isolated Grand Duchess only had a small dagger, and all she could do was stab and slash."

"I can't imagine anything more cruel than this."

Nicolai glanced at the Grand Duchess, then turned back to Thales with a disdainful look: "Don't worry, I'll cut his head off before the enemy's sword arrives."

"Ha, that's really impressive."

Thales shook his head, a hint of melancholy creeping into his voice: "Yet, Rumba's sword is already at her throat, and Rumba's head is still on his neck—while she's still happily learning daggers from you."

Nikolai didn't speak, but his brows furrowed even more.

Thales narrowed his eyes: "Is this how you trained Prince Moral? Teaching him to use a dagger for self-defense, keeping him away from all dangers?"

The prince lowered his head, patted his hands, and sighed, "No wonder Morar couldn't return from the stars..."

“This has nothing to do with Moral,” Nikolai interrupted him coldly. “He may not be the best swordsman and axeman, but his failure to return was certainly not due to a lack of skill.”

Thales crossed his arms and remained silent for a moment.

“Of course, Moral,” Thales shook his head, a strange look in his eyes: “A legitimate male heir to the Grand Duke, if he were still alive, Dragonstreet would probably be stable—then I probably wouldn’t even need to come to Exter.”

Nikolai snorted coldly, seemingly completely unaware of what the prince was trying to say.

“But she,” Thales gestured toward the Grand Duchess, as if it were just a casual remark, “is a woman, and not even of Walton blood.”

"This has led to many problems."

“She can’t just know how to use a dagger for self-defense; that’s far from enough.”

“That’s not your business. Just mind your own business,” Nicolai interrupted him bluntly. “That’s my problem.”

"You're really confident." Thales snorted and shook his head. "It's as if you could make Dragon City safe and sound in an instant with just a word, and clear the suspicions about Risban and the others."

Is it.

Nikolai?
“That’s all for today’s lesson,” Nicolai said curtly. “The rest of the time is for you to practice on your own.”

Thales chuckled inwardly and shook his head: "What about the promised hundred times?"

But the Meteorite merely glanced at him coldly before turning away and leaving without a backward glance.

As Thales watched his retreating figure, he slowly frowned.

It was still early, and the sun was still shining.

"It's over so early?" Wyman stepped forward, took the sword and shield from Thales's hand, and asked in confusion, "Today's training seems a little different?"

The second prince took a deep breath and gently shook his head.

"Where is it? Isn't it the same as before?"

“This overwhelming advantage,” Thales sighed, watching the departing figure of the Meteorite, “is something only the two sides in the conflict could possess.”

"They're not even in the same league."

“You don’t need to compare yourself to the Meteorites,” Wyatt raised an eyebrow, following the prince’s gaze to the terrifying former commander of the melee blades, and tentatively said, “But seeing you so optimistic again puts my mind at ease.”

"Not too bad, is it?"

Thales turned around, his gaze falling on Selma, who was practicing with her daggers, her brows slick with sweat, and then on the guards and servants who filled the arena, their faces wary. He remained silent.

Not too bad?

No.

At that moment, only the prince himself knew how bad the situation he was facing was.

(End of this chapter)