Kingdom Bloodline

Chapter 310 The Man Who Wrote the Legend (Part 2)

Silence fell over the dining room once again.

Until the girl broke it.

“So, you deliberately provoked Longxiao City this afternoon, letting everyone see your rudeness,” Selma frowned, “was this preparation for this step?”

Ian blinked happily.

The Grand Duchess pondered for a moment: "A marriage proposal? Would that work?"

“I’ll say it again, what if you marry someone else,” Ian glanced at Thales, seemingly casually, and patted him on the shoulder, “then what will happen to 'us'?”

Thales felt Selma's gaze sweeping over him from time to time.

That look was the same helpless gaze that little girl had once cast at him in the library, in the Hall of Heroes, in the Shield District, in the prison, and in front of the five Grand Dukes.

Thales felt a sense of familiar comfort mixed with an awkward sense of estrangement.

but……

But, Thales Shining Star, what am I to you?

He could only maintain his serious expression and remain silent.

After the Grand Duchess, Ian also set his sights on Thales.

one second.

two seconds.

three seconds.

It seems like a century has passed.

Selma kept her eyes fixed on Thales.

"What's wrong with you?"

Finally unable to bear the atmosphere any longer, Ian put on a bewildered expression and raised his hands, waving them around:

"Or rather...should I leave?"

Under the pressure from the two men, the prince finally relaxed.

He gave a faint smile and nodded slightly to the Grand Duchess.

“You’ll have to face this storm sooner or later,” Thales said softly. “You are the Grand Duchess.”

"This has to be your decision, it has to be your own."

"Become the person you want to be."

Selma paused slightly.

After hearing the prince's words, she lowered her head and fell into deep thought.

Ian, on the other hand, frowned, his eyes darting back and forth between the two.

A few seconds later, Selma raised her head.

She looked at Ian, as if she had made up her mind, her tone resolute:

"What do you need?"

In that instant, as if a floodgate had been opened, Thales exhaled a breath.

Ian smiled with satisfaction.

“We need an occasion where all your vassals—I mean powerful vassals with fiefdoms, troops, and ambitions—are present.”

Ian pondered, "The sooner the better, so that they don't have a chance to make preparations, and so that Black Sand Territory doesn't have time to counterattack."

“We will be there to cut your ropes and break your shackles.”

"the same as you."

Selma hesitated for only a few seconds before speaking quickly.

“The day of the council is still half a month away,” she replied crisply, “but I will discuss it with Charles and we should be able to move it to a few days later. Normally, the earls send their officers to attend, but I can send a letter inviting them to discuss the matter of sending troops.”

This was the first time Thales had seen Selma act so decisively.

It surprised him quite a bit.

“So,” a strange light appeared in Ian’s eyes, and he tilted his head slightly, “we’ve reached an agreement?”

"Madam... no, Your Excellency the Grand Duchess of Dragonsky City?"

Selma looked at him and nodded slowly: "Of course, Your Excellency Viscount of Qiyuan City."

Thales smiled slightly, feeling a strange sensation welling up inside him.

It was as if he had lost something.

“Very good.” Ian composed himself and slowly stood up.

At that moment, Thales had a strange feeling: the Viscount's demeanor was beginning to change.

Ian raised his right hand, extended it across the table, and made a palm with his fingers.

“Ian Ronnie,” his expression at this moment held neither excessive jest nor deliberate seriousness, only simple indifference: “For our alliance.”

Thales watched him silently.

Looking at Ian's indifferent expression.

Maybe.

This is the real him.

The real Ian Ronnie.

The Grand Duchess took a deep breath, stood up stiffly, and extended her hand to Ian.

“Selma Walton,” the girl said coldly, “for our goal.”

But just as her hand was about to touch Ian, it paused abruptly, stopping in mid-air.

Ian was slightly startled.

Selma slowly turned his head and looked at the only person left in the arena.

The foreign prince with the complicated expression.

Ian realized what was happening, smiled knowingly, and looked at Thales.

Now it was Thales' turn to raise his eyebrows.

"Me too?" he asked in surprise.

“You are a witness to this covenant, Thales, don’t underestimate yourself,” Ian chuckled. “Or do you want to be an outsider who listens to the whole conspiracy but remains unmoved?”

Selma stared at the prince expressionlessly, her gaze complex, yet she never looked away.

Thales sighed and stood up helplessly.

“Tales Star,” the prince, recalling the gesture of the five grand dukes swearing an oath, extended his right hand and instinctively closed it with Selma’s hand opposite him: “For…”

He hesitated for a moment before saying in a cold voice, "For our common enemy."

Ian looked at the two tightly clasped hands and raised one eyebrow.

He sighed, shrugged, and closed Thales's hand from the outside.

Three hands clasped together and shook vigorously in the air.

The alliance was reached.

“And you have to attend too, Thales. That kind of occasion can’t just be us and Dragonstreet. There must be outsiders of sufficient status to witness it and put considerable pressure on them,” Ian released his hand and gestured to the south. “But inviting Black Sand Territory is obviously a bad idea.”

Thales frowned. "Do you need anything else?"

“That’s all. The faster, the shorter, the simpler,” Ian pursed his lips, seemingly a little uneasy, “the greater our chances of winning.”

But a few seconds later, the serious Ian revealed his true colors and smiled again:
"Of course, our Star Prince could also write a letter, asking the Star Kingdom to send troops from the Western Wilderness, cross the Great Desert, and advance on the Free Alliance from the south?"

“And with us attacking from both the east and the south,” Ian laughed, picking up another piece of cheese to ease the tension, “the war could be over in less than two months.”

Thales rolled his eyes.

Yes, and then I'll be in trouble as Exter is hostage—guess whether Rumba will publicly order the execution or just call in an assassin?
“I think, rather than the stars,” the prince said irritably, “you should ask the orcs in the desert for help; that’s more realistic.”

Ian muttered something and began to struggle with the cheese.

Selma, however, frowned and asked, "What are our chances?"

Ian shook his head and said vaguely, "Let's see how far we can go."

He didn't even glance in their direction, his eyes fixed on the food in his hands, his cheeks twitching as he chewed, but his words were startling: "As I said—we are writing our own legend." "It's a pleasure to speak with you, madam, Your Highness."

Ian swallowed the last bite of cheese, turned around without hesitation or any politeness, and walked out of the dining room.

Thales was left deep in thought.

And the inexplicable Selma.

The two remained silent in the dining room.

Selma sat down in silence, while Thales watched her silently.

After a long pause, the girl suddenly spoke up: "A marriage proposal, is that it?"

"Did you know from the beginning, or did you only realize it afterward?"

Without anyone reminding them, the atmosphere instantly became awkward.

Thales let out a breath and said with difficulty, "That was just a means, Selma."

But the Grand Duchess immediately interrupted him.

"You believe him?" She looked towards the door, her emotions unreadable.

Thales looked at the girl's profile and forced a smile.

"Do not."

"But I believe you."

Selma's expression shifted slightly.

"Will we succeed?" she asked.

Thales did not answer. He walked to the window and quietly looked out, scanning the lights outside Valhalla.

Six years.

Dragon Sky City.

What exactly does this city mean to him?

The second prince closed his eyes, shutting out Longxiao City from his sight, and sighed:
"Promise me, Selma."

"On the next hearing day, no matter what happens, don't do anything foolish."

Selma paused in surprise: "What?"

"Don't worry about others, don't pay attention to anything else, and don't hesitate or waver in the slightest."

“Just choose the path that is best for you, best for the Grand Duchess, that’s enough,” Thales turned around, his face as cold as ice, as if facing the most difficult test in the world: “I’ll take care of the rest.”

Selma looked at him, hesitant to speak.

But in the end, she kept her mouth shut and said nothing.

Thales forced a smile, nodded slightly, turned around, and walked out of the dining room.

He left the girl behind.

Thales walked out of the corridor, his eyes fixed straight ahead on Lady Jinx's still cold and solemn gaze, past the maids' whispered pointing fingers, and past the guards' ill-intentioned stares.

Just as he had walked past them countless times over the past six years.

He was called back just as he was about to leave the palace gates.

"This afternoon, in the lobby, I noticed the way they were looking at you."

Thales frowned and turned around: Ian Ronnie stood at the corner, calling out to him while giving a fake smile to a guard who didn't seem very approachable.

The heir of Qiyuan City turned around, quickly followed Thales, leaving behind the guards' piercing gazes, and said with a smile, "I don't think she can protect you well—especially among these northerners."

Thales sighed softly.

So you did it on purpose, once again putting me in the spotlight and subjecting me to scrutiny.

As they passed a pair of patrolling guards coming towards them in the corridor—who appeared to be the Grand Duke's personal guards—the leader squinted and sized up the pair.

Ian shrugged slightly and said in a low voice, "You know, Qiyuan City is the most remote territory of Exter, far from the king's reach, and we are adjacent to the Great Desert."

Thales raised an eyebrow: "So?"

“So, if you’re in Qiyuan City, you don’t need to worry about the king’s threat, and my father will welcome you,” Ian winked. “Moreover, from here, you can return to the Western Wilderness of the Stars simply by crossing the desert, without even having to go through other duchies.”

Thales paused slightly, shaking his head helplessly in his heart.

Yes.

But only if Dragon City and King Chaman allow me to leave.

And you're really so kind as to let me leave, to let a pawn that can be used to blackmail the Star Kingdom leave.

“If things don’t go well,” Ian looked up, his signature carefree smile returning, “remember, the climate in Qiyuan City is much better than here.”

“I am very grateful,” Thales said calmly. “I will remember it.”

The two walked side by side toward the palace gate—they could already see Wya, Rolf, and several guards from Qiyuan City waiting at the entrance.

"Ian."

“You said you wanted to write your own legend,” Thales asked softly. “What did you mean by that?”

Ian looked up, rubbing his chin, seemingly intrigued by the question.

"What's the meaning……"

He chuckled.

“The Ronnie family hasn’t produced a king in over three hundred years, and Dragon City has just relinquished its monopoly on the throne.”

Ian turned his head, smiling as if he were joking: "Perhaps it's time to balance the distribution of power in Exter, don't you think?"

Thales's eyes narrowed.

He understood the other person's meaning and recalled the long-haired, resolute warrior: "Grand Duke Ronnie, do you intend to vie for the throne?"

Ian shook his head.

“Ha,” he lowered his head, flicked the knightly insignia on his shoulder, and hid his gaze in a corner where Thales couldn’t see him: “Of course not.”

Ian looked up, his eyes gleaming with an unfathomable light.

With a rhythmic tone, Ian enunciated softly, "At least not him."

Thales stopped in his tracks.

A dozen meters away from the palace gate, Wya bowed respectfully to him from a distance.

Ian also stopped and looked back at Thales with a leisurely air.

The prince chuckled softly: "You know you're facing Rumba, perhaps the most formidable king in Exter's history?"

Ian laughed too: "Yes, my father reminds me at every meal how terrible the man under the crown is."

The two looked at each other.

"but."

“Since we’re going to write our own legend,” Ian’s smile slowly faded, “we can’t leave too much room for supporting characters.”

Thales smirked and shook his head helplessly.

"Are you sure he's a supporting character?" The prince stared intently at Ian. "Chaman Rumba."

Ian put on an innocent expression and shrugged.

"do not know."

“But I know that if I want to be the protagonist,” the nineteen-year-old viscount sighed, “he has to be a supporting character.”

The air seemed to freeze for a moment.

Thales looked at him with a complicated expression and nodded: "Is that so?"

Ian curled his lip: "That's how all the success stories are written, without exception."

The second prince of Xingchen and the heir of Qiyuan City stared at each other for several seconds.

Their expressions gradually faded.

“Now I’m starting to believe.” The second prince slowly narrowed his eyes.

Ian raised an eyebrow, his tone crisp: "Believe in what?"

“Ian Ronnie, without a doubt,” Thales let out a long breath, tinged with a slight sigh:
"You are indeed your father's son."

(End of this chapter)