Kingdom Bloodline

Chapter 336 The Veteran in a Wheelchair
The silver moon hung high, barely illuminating this remote and dilapidated alley.

A few slivers of flickering light from torches shone through the only narrow crack leading outside.

Outside the alley, a rude and impolite outburst jolted Thales awake.

Although the underground journey had left him somewhat disoriented, and the corners and alleys he navigated after reaching the surface were also a bit complicated, Thales knew very well that he had left the cover of the Secret Service and was now exposed to the view of Dragon City.

He was in grave danger, and his only hope of leaving the city at that moment... was the contact person that Putila had mentioned.

Thales focused his attention, and the sins of the River of Hell surged forth at the opportune moment, enhancing his hearing.

A dozen different breathing sounds came into his senses from two directions: one side was large and powerful, the other was a lone figure.

“You’ve been in Dragon City for so many years,” it was that same cold voice from before. When he spoke in the crowd, Thales could vaguely sense his impatience: “You should know how serious this is. You also know how serious we are. This is not a fight of pride.”

The gruff voice responded with a disdainful sneer: "Hmph!"

Thales frowned slightly: Who are they? Where am I?
Where is the person I'm supposed to meet?
That damned Putila, he clearly said he didn't want to be like Miko, but all he left me with is still a mystery.

The standoff across the wall seemed to continue: the gruff voice clearly displeased his opponents.

A third voice rang out again, seemingly still trying to persuade the rude man: "This is for our survival—from the lockdown to the raids to the arrests everywhere, they have never interfered with gangs and underground businesses so brutally before... Listen, Valhalla is serious this time, and I don't think they care about mutual destruction."

Thales felt a chill run down his spine.

Since noon, when Lumba was assassinated and fled Valhalla, several hours have passed until now, as night has fallen. The prince can probably imagine what Dragon City looks like now.

“I don’t think so,” the gruff voice replied casually. “I’m doing just fine.”

"boom!"

"Hey," someone seemed to angrily bang on a wooden board, "you old..."

But with another muffled thud, he was about to explode in anger, but it was as if his companion had forcefully stopped him.

Thales pushed his body closer to the rough, broken wall in front of him, straining his ears to try and grab any useful information.

"Is it?"

It was that cautious third person who seemed more inclined to negotiate than his ruthless companion: "Starting this afternoon, all the goods we had ordered to sell this month at the Sword District market were seized; at Dragonwing Square, the old hand of Cornas was raided; even nobles from the Spear and Axe Districts were going to prison in droves, and even the subordinates of powerful vassals like Kelkekor were heavily implicated; as for us? Anyone with a criminal record was caught by the patrols and sent straight to the water dungeon without a second thought..."

"And you, you think you're special, that because of your old friendship with 'Earthshaker,' the poor people's shield and hammer zones can stay out of it, and that the patrols and the Grand Duke's guard will always let you off the hook?"

He paused.

A cold voice continued, "You're wrong."

"And one day, you will pay the price for it."

Thales's heart skipped a beat; he had heard a few key words.

The prince subconsciously looked around: this secluded alley seemed to be quite old, with its irregular brick walls severely damaged, as if they would collapse at the slightest touch. The house to the left that it connected to had obviously been uninhabited for a long time—this house, now only half-built, was even more dire than the abandoned house Thales had stayed in, as if someone had taken a giant hammer and smashed a third of it vertically downwards from the roof.

But Thales immediately realized that the ground beneath his feet was also full of rubble and rotten wood, and even deep pits that seemed to have appeared out of nowhere.

Just like...

It was like a devastated battlefield.

Are there such places in Dragon Sky City?
Upon thinking of this, Thales trembled slightly!
In the moonlight, he turned his head in disbelief, peering through the narrow alleyways and a few holes in the broken walls to look around: dilapidated beams, collapsed brick walls, a filthy path, and a faint, fishy stench in his nostrils…

Thales was stunned.

He recognized the place.

He still remembers the rough, uneven dirt road, the low, scattered old houses, and the maze-like alleyways.

The only thing missing was the bustling sound of people.

here it is……

Thales touched the broken wall and stared blankly at the house whose roof had been smashed.

This is the shield zone.

It is the Shield Zone of Dragon Sky City.

It was the Shield Zone that was destroyed six years ago during a brutal and relentless battle between two magic users.

It was he who led the little rascal in a frantic escape, it was he who crossed the line between life and death with tears in his eyes, it was he who followed the Black Sword in a desperate counterattack in the Shield Zone.

This is the place.

A nameless sorrow welled up in Thales' heart.

So many years.

He eventually returned to this place.

However, Thales was puzzled: Why did Putila want to come to this place by herself?

"Hahahahahaha..."

A gruff voice suddenly burst into laughter, drawing Thales' attention.

"'You'll pay the price,' hahahaha..."

The laughter was hearty and unrestrained, but Thales could hear the displeasure and anger within it.

With his senses heightened by the sins of the River of Hell, Thales vaguely sensed that the breathing of the group opposite the gruff voices was growing heavier.

The situation seems to be getting increasingly ugly.

The laughter gradually subsided.

“You know,” the gruff voice paused for a few seconds before speaking in a low, even deeper tone than before:
"Six years ago, Urad couldn't make a living in Dragon City anymore, so he used his connections to turn the market and black market into a mess. Coupled with the disappearance of that Far Easterner, business in the Bow District was also completely gone. So, all the overconfident scum in the area wanted to snatch up these few pieces of bone..."

The burly man paused slightly, a dangerous glint in his voice: "And after years of fighting, those of you who remained actually think you're someone important, even speaking like some kind of big shot..."

Urad?
Was it six years ago... that guy with eight braids who worked under Rumba?

Thales frowned, instinctively shrinking back and completely hiding himself in the darkness behind the wall.

"enough."

That cold voice spoke again, as if he were the leader of this group.

“We don’t know about your past grievances with Urad, cripple,” his words remained devoid of warmth. “We don’t want to get involved either, but we’re all just trying to make a living in Dragon City…”

"Ha!" A rude voice suddenly rose, interrupting him.

"Making a living?"

Despite being all alone, this guy seemed incredibly brave. Facing so many people, he not only remained fearless but also spoke with even greater arrogance:
"For several years now, with Urad as an example, the increasingly strict patrols have raided your goods more than a dozen times, whether by water, land, or black, and the money you've lost is enough to buy a whole city of Dragon Sky. But you still persist, as if you can't lose all the money... Hey, are you really just occupying the market area just to make a living?"

Faced with the rude questioning, the group remained silent, but Thales could sense that their breathing had become more rapid and intense.

"Even so, you have never given up on giving gifts and favors to the nobles in the inner city all these years, as if you have inexhaustible money... Including that receptionist who was hanged for colluding with the Black Sand Territory—I know that all the benefits he received were delivered by you."

He coughed loudly, spat out a mouthful of phlegm, and continued disdainfully, "Hey, neither for fame nor for profit, yet you act all patriotic? Tell me, which gang that does this is just trying to 'make a living'?"

The group confronting him remained silent, but Thales could already hear some of them clenching their fists.

"Look, I know you all inside and out," the gruff voice chuckled again, sending a chill down one's spine. "I know who you're working for, I know whether you're just trying to protect yourselves, or if you have ulterior motives and powerful backers..."

"Hey."

“Urad is gone, but his stench still lingers in the city,” the man’s rough, rugged voice struck Thales deeply, and he felt increasingly certain that he had seen this man before.

"If I report this to the White Blade Guards, guess what the consequences will be?"

A silence, longer than ever before, lingered between the two sides.

White Blade Guard.

Really bad.

Caught in the middle of this standoff, Thales felt the atmosphere growing increasingly uneasy. He anxiously looked around, only to find to his dismay that there were only two ways to leave the alley: either brazenly squeeze through the narrow gap and come to the two sides, or make a dramatic and high-profile escape by scaling the wall from the other side, stepping over the broken stones and wood.

None of these are good solutions.

After a long while, from the other side of the crowd, that cold voice slowly sighed.

"There are no more melee guards, Griveo," he said softly, but with ill intent, "from the day the calamity struck and the dragons returned..."

"The late king is gone, and times have changed. Neither Exter nor Dragon City is what it used to be."

These words, spoken in the darkness, startled Thales slightly.

He had roughly figured out who they were. Their status was probably not very high, but they were not to be ignored in Dragon Sky City, affecting the lives of many people, and they had close ties with mid-level officials like the patrol team.

Thales felt a long-lost sense of familiarity with this kind of person.

Sure enough, the next second, the rude man called Grevo spoke coldly:
"So you found a new master?"

He spat, his expression full of disdain: "What, is Chaman Rumba's penis so delicious that you guys would even line up to slurp it up when you're taking a dump?"

"Damn it..." One of them seemed unable to contain his temper and took a step forward, but he was immediately stopped.

"Quiet!" This was the third voice, and he seemed to be the one whose words carried the most weight, aside from his cold voice.

His words were noticeably more cautious, and he spoke in a consultative tone: "I know, Boss Grevo, we usually don't interfere with each other and we have a tacit understanding, but this time..."

But Griveaux seemed completely unmoved, interrupting him in a gruff voice:
"Then get out of here."

Greaver's gruff voice was both unpleasant and grating: "I don't care how important that prince is, I don't care who assassinated that patricide, I don't care what kind of nonsense Valhalla is up to, I don't care whose balls you black-skinned dogs are licking, I don't care whose bones you've taken to get involved, and I don't care whether you're raising a flag of rebellion or seeking promotions. There's only one thing I care about: you sons of bitches—"

Thales bit his lower lip: Sure enough, his disappearance triggered a series of chaos in Dragon Sky City, even affecting these...

Griveo slammed his fist down and growled:
"Get away from my territory!"

This statement immediately caused an uproar among the crowd on the other side.

"This old cripple..." came the sound of a blade piercing wood.

"We should teach him a lesson..." Several malicious sneers rang out.

"If you ask me—" one person said unhappily.

But all of these people stopped talking abruptly.

It seems that he was stopped by his leader.

Just as Thales caught his breath, thinking the conflict was over...

"Grevo, Grevo, Grevo, the famous Grevo."

It was that leader, that cold voice.

“Greev, who is rumored to be able to rival the ‘Five Generals’,” his voice drifted from outside the fire-lit alleyway, “you lost both your legs in the disaster six years ago.”

"He could never stand up again."

Six years ago, he lost both legs?

six years ago.

Thales caught the word.

Griveaux was silent for a few seconds.

“Ha, you mean my legs? They’ve been lame for decades,” the gruff man said without backing down, his laughter still light and effortless. “Six years ago, I thought they were in my way, so I just sawed them off.”

"do you have any opinion?"

A gentle breeze blew through the narrow cracks of the alley, producing a low, whistling sound.

The cold-blooded man continued, "Not only that, you've also lost an eye."

"Half of my eyesight has been lost."

"Eyes?" Greaver's voice suddenly rose:
"Hey, I felt it was pressing against my eye socket and making my head feel too uncomfortable, so I just took it off."

Several muffled thuds were heard, as if he had flicked his forehead.

The cold voice chuckled.

"Also, you only have three fingers left on your left hand."

"Whether you clench your fists or wield a weapon, you are powerless."

Greaver retorted nonchalantly, "Hey, have you guys never picked your noses before? Don't you think it's more convenient this way?"

Upon hearing these words, Thales frowned deeply.

That lonely figure outside the wall...

What kind of man is he, really?

The cold-blooded man ignored Grivell and continued, "That's not all. In that disaster, your men suffered heavy casualties—count how many brothers you personally buried in the Shield District six years ago?"

This time, Griveaux remained silent for a long time.

long time.

It seemed to fall silent from that point on.

Another gust of wind blew by, and the firelight outside the alleyway trembled slightly.

The man named Griveo took a deep breath and then slowly exhaled.

"My men are made of iron." His slightly low voice, yet still defiant, echoed through the air.

Greaver's voice trembled slightly: "Tch, if a real fight breaks out, one against ten is nothing out of the ordinary."

There was only silence in response to him.

Thales listened quietly, sketching out the image of the man in his mind: he had lost both legs, one eye, and his left hand was crippled.

Rude, impolite, and ill-mannered; thuggish.

However, he was also generous, stubborn, and argumentative.

After a long while, the cold voice began to chuckle: "Hehehehe..."

"Don't make me laugh, Grivell. Look at the state you've become—you can't even stand up, let alone wield the Soul-Slaying Spear; you need a wheelchair to walk..."

In response, Griveaux spat dismissively.

“Look around, look at this place that has been plowed by disaster and beasts: poverty, ruin, decay, pitifulness, contemptibility, the shield zone you rely on for a living and are proud of.”

The cold-blooded man clicked his tongue and said, "Look at this miserable state. Your Shield District has not only never recovered, but it is getting worse and worse. I heard that you don't even have enough people to guard the brothels? Don't even mention that you have to take care of the orphans and families of those brothers. Maybe you should call your wives and daughters to help out. You know, you can earn some 'extra money' while guarding the brothels?"

Laughter erupted from the crowd.

This time, Thales did not hear Greaver's rebuttal.

"Think it through carefully."

"This is no longer your era, you old cripple," the cold man said, his words carrying a hidden threat.
"Stubbornly refusing to see reality and stubbornly continuing down this path will only lead to self-destruction and drag down those around you."

Footsteps sounded, seemingly the cold-hearted man slowly pacing forward.

Thales heard Greaver's breathing grow heavier and heavier.

"We didn't start a war with you, not because we were afraid of you—but you seem to look down on us? What, do you still think you're the renowned Extreme Heavy Sword Infantry, the highly respected Boss Grive, the popular hero who commands respect throughout Dragon Sky City, or the hero who wields the Soul-Slaying Spear to protect Dragon Sky City?"

"But in fact..."

The man's voice was calm, seemingly devoid of any emotion, yet it was chilling: "Since six years ago, you've been nothing. Underneath that incomplete shell of yours, there's nothing but a cripple waiting to die in a wheelchair."

This time, Grevo's breathing became heavier and heavier, and he even let out a low groan.

But his rude voice never came again.

It was as if Griveaux had given up on fighting back.

The cold voice struck at the other's sore spot, and he slowly laughed: "For example, right now, if we were a dozen steps away, shooting you with a crossbow while you can't stand up... what could you do?"

"If we really get serious, if we really want to take action against you, against the Shield District, against the Hammer District, against your penniless underlings, against their wives and children, against their employers' livelihoods, and make them a hundred times worse off than they are now..."

The other person's speech became slower and slower, which made people increasingly disheartened.

"What do you think you can do if you're a cripple who can't even walk, can't hold a knife properly, can't see the road clearly, and will spend the rest of your life in a wheelchair?"

Griveaux remained silent.

They seemed to have truly fallen silent.

"Look at the situation clearly and make a wise choice," the man said with a cold laugh as he stopped in his tracks. "Since you know so well who's behind us, you should know that we are very powerful and capable of doing what we're capable of, while someone as crippled as you is powerless to stop us, unable to stop us."

"So I'm giving you one more chance, Greaver, to reconsider your answer..."

However, before the man could finish speaking, Thales suddenly felt a chill run down his spine!
(End of this chapter)