Kingdom Bloodline

Chapter 337 Double?
The next second, a terrifying loud noise suddenly came from outside the alley!

"boom!"

Thales was startled.

It sounds like something has hit a wall...

A chaotic uproar and shouting came from the other side of the wall.

"No, that bastard..."

“Greev, what are you doing—”

"Grab your weapons..."

But it's not over yet.

"boom!"

Another muffled thud, which sounded to Thales like a hard collision of fists!
A crisp cracking sound of bone breaking was followed by a cry of pain.

"Damn it, get him... ah—"

"Swish!" This time it was the sound of a blade piercing flesh!

"That son of a bitch..."

"Clap!"

This time, the sound was like bones cracking.

"Ahhh-"

"Damn it, how did he do that—"

"Kill him! Ahhhhhh!"

The continuous screams of the crowd rose from outside the alley, and Thales, who was listening in, became increasingly nervous.

What happened?

"What about throwing knives? Use throwing knives to deal with..."

The chaotic crowd began to appear hysterical.

"Ahhh—I swear, we won't, we won't let you go, we won't! Your brothers, your men, everyone you cherish, we will..."

"Boom!"

Another dull thud as a body hit the ground cut off the blustering but cowardly voice.

"Give me the knife quickly—"

"Swoosh! Splash..."

Thales' heart skipped a beat: the sound was both strange and familiar to him—a soldier on the battlefield whose arteries had been slashed, blood gushing out and splattering everywhere.

The crowd's voices grew increasingly panicked.

"No, no, wait a minute, let's talk this out—"

"Bang! Thump!"

The deadly dull thuds rang out again and again.

Thales, who was behind the wall, listened with trepidation.

The voices of the crowd grew increasingly faint.

"No, no, no, I'm just a gofer—"

"boom!"

Thales was startled: the wall he was leaning against trembled slightly, as if someone had been thrown at him, and a lot of dust fell.

After that, the noise outside, whether it was cries for help or sounds of fighting, decreased significantly.

The last voice, pleading for mercy, came through, its tone choked with sobs:

"No, no, whether it was following you or catching you alone, it was their idea... I'm really not with them—"

But the next moment, a chillingly crisp sound rang out:

"Crack!"

Thales closed his eyes: he recognized the voice too.

That was the sound of a neck being snapped.

After more than a dozen terrifyingly loud bangs, silence finally fell behind the low wall.

The chaos outside seems to have subsided.

Thales then opened his eyes solemnly and cautiously, holding his breath.

No way?
In the eerie silence, only two breaths could be heard at the back of the alley.

A steady, deep voice, slightly panting.

A panic, a sense of urgency, and a rapid pace.

Even when he unleashed the full power of the River of Hell, he could not hear the breathing of other living beings.

Only... two people left?

Thales closed his mouth in astonishment.

After a few seconds.

The rough male voice, silent for a long time, returned with a muffled groan:

"Hmph, damn superhuman, thinking he can act tough just because he has some skills—ouch, that really hurts."

A hissing sound, like a blade being pulled from flesh.

Clang—the sound of metal hitting the ground.

Following that sound, another breath came from behind the wall, becoming even more rapid and unsteady.

"You, you, you, Griveo, old, old, boss, I, I, I, I'm not..."

The voice was trembling.

In response, Griveaux gave a faint, cold laugh: "Hmph, a dozen or so people."

"They can't even beat a lone disabled person in a wheelchair."

"I'm ashamed of you."

Thales frowned deeply: What's going on?
He fought against more than a dozen people, including those with superpowers, and they all...

The last remaining sob in her voice was so terrified that she couldn't even speak.

"Hey."

But Greaver’s next words made him gasp:
“You’re lucky, little guy, I need a tongue to relay messages…”

The owner of the trembling voice seemed to have understood the meaning of those words, and immediately calmed down.

The next second, he quickly spoke up, almost bursting with joy: "Of course! Boss Grevo, whatever you say, I'll..."

"Hmph." Griveo's cold snort forced the survivor's fawning and trembling voice back down.

In the chilling silence, Thales, listening from the corner, didn't dare to utter a sound.

Clearly, the person behind the wall is a dangerous individual.

"Listen up, you scum."

Griveo's rough, unpleasant voice slowly rang out: "Do you think you can force me to back down through threats and violence?"

"You know, Urad spent over a decade using every trick in the book, even bringing in the Black Sand Territory's powerful crossbows, but he still couldn't kill me..."

Greaver's voice carried an unusual ferocity: "Hmph, don't even mention missing legs and eyes..."

"Even if I can't speak, can't see, my limbs rot, and I'm paralyzed forever," the rough soldier's voice was deep, yet every word was like iron, "I can still grit my teeth, jump out of bed, and take you all down one by one..."

"Chew it into pieces."

Snapped!
A scream came from behind the wall.

Thales could feel it: the survivor was lifted up by Griveaux.

"You think it's terrifying that the Meteorites are rampaging through the city and going berserk? Ha," the gruff man's voice grew increasingly menacing.
"You'll find out when you really piss Grevo off..."

"That dead man's face, which only knew how to behead, was so gentle and refined."

Thales heard that terrifying breathing, accompanied by the chattering of teeth.

“Pass the message back,” Griveaux said coldly.
"I may not be able to protect my territory, my brothers."

"But I hold grudges very well."

“From today onwards, anything that happens on my turf—I mean anything—like the little girl across the street losing her doll, or my neighbor’s dog missing a bone from its bowl…”

"I will remember all of this."

Thump, thump, thump.

It sounded like an index finger tapping heavily on the forehead.

Her trembling breath was shaking uncontrollably.

"You'd better pray that the Shield Zone and Hammer Zone are safe and sound, and thriving, otherwise..."

"In return..."

“I will tear each and every one of you apart, no matter where he hides or how high his status is.”

"Just like what you see."

thump!
A sound like a human body falling to the ground was heard.

"Get out," Griveaux said slowly, his voice as cold as frost.

The next second, amidst rapidly trembling breaths, a panicked sound of footsteps rustled through the air, knocking over countless items along the way, accompanied by the scraping sounds of clothes against the ground.

The footsteps gradually faded away.

Behind the wall, Thales quietly let out a sigh of relief.

Fortunately, he only felt his heart beating a little fast: it was over.

Now, all we have to do is wait for that wheelchair to leave...

"Hey!"

The rude male voice rang out again.

It has a more relaxed and lazy feel to it.

“That eavesdropper,” Greaver’s deep voice reached Thales’ ears clearly:
How much longer are you going to hide?

Thales felt a chill run down his spine.

what?
He touched his stiff neck, raised his head blankly, and looked at the low wall that completely blocked his view.

calm.

Calm down, Thales.

The prince, with a glimmer of hope, pursed his lips: Perhaps they weren't talking about me?

"Humph."

"Stop pretending, you guy behind the wall," Grevo seemed to clench his fist, producing a startling crack, "Is watching the show fun?"

"Hey, just wait until I drag you out, then you won't be so lucky."

The prince closed his eyes, filled with helplessness.

Thales took a deep breath.

On the bright side, Thales.

It's late at night, and this is the almost abandoned Shield District. That guy—he couldn't possibly be someone who just happened to be taking a walk here.

Moreover, according to what Griveo just said, he must have been traveling alone, which is why he was surrounded by his opponents in this place.

The fact that they made a special trip to this place so late at night means...

Thales regulated his breathing, repeatedly convincing himself of that reason, and then resolutely took a step forward.

We walked out of the narrow alley.

A cold wind blew in, and the extreme temperature difference between day and night in the North made Thales shrink back.

Outside the alley, a desolate and dilapidated scene of the Shield District unfolded before him.

But what truly caught his eye was the mess in front of him.

Thales stared blankly at the scene in the night: a dozen corpses lay motionless on the ground or pressed against the wall, in various postures, their expressions frozen in the last moment, some horrified, some fearful, some indignant.

Some of them had deformed hands and feet, some had bent bodies, and some even had their internal organs spilling out onto the ground, making them look particularly ferocious and eerie against the backdrop of the dark night and the bright moon.

A few torches lay limply on the ground, stubbornly burning on their own, barely providing any light.

Thales slipped: he accidentally stepped on a pool of blood.

It's like a slaughterhouse in the wild.

In this breathtaking scene, Thales swallowed hard and made out the only person still alive: a strong man sitting on the ground, silently bandaging a wound on his shoulder.

Through the dim firelight and moonlight, Thales immediately noticed the man's most distinctive feature: he had no legs.

Rolf's legs at least reached his knees, but the burly man in front of him had empty trousers below the thighs, tied in two knots, a testament to his past misfortunes.

Thales frowned slightly.

The man named Griveo snorted coldly, biting the bandage in his teeth, and struggled to lift his head: "Tell me, who sent you to follow me here in the middle of the night, Nikolai, Ulad, or someone else... Huh?" A look of doubt appeared in Griveo's eyes.

As expected, Thales saw his face in the light: Greaver's left eye socket was empty, just a dark void.

Where his left ear should have been, there was only a round hole under his short hair.

It looked like his ears had been cut off at the root.

Thales was stunned.

"A little brat?"

The burly man frowned, a look of doubt on his face.

As Griveo spoke, he used his left hand, which had only three fingers left, to pull up one corner of the strip of cloth, biting the other corner in his mouth, while his right hand braced against the ground to help his hunched body maintain its balance, desperately tying the wound to himself.

A faint sadness welled up in Thales' heart.

this person……

There's only "half" person left.

"Hey! Don't get distracted, kid!"

Thales's expression changed. He snapped out of his daze and scratched his forehead. "Actually, I'm almost fourteen..."

“It really is just a kid,” Griveaux shook his head and snorted. “What, is child labor all the rage now? Tsk tsk, how cruel people can be these days.”

cruel?

Looking at Griveor sitting amidst a pile of corpses, Thales could only offer a helpless smile.

Griveaux has a flat face but a high nose, and his unkempt stubble makes one wonder if he slashed it haphazardly with a knife.

After he finished bandaging his wound, he reached behind him with his left hand, and a rolling scraping sound came from the darkness.

A wooden wheelchair was pulled to the man's side.

Griveo gritted his teeth, secured the wheelchair to the edge of a protruding stone slab, gripped the armrest with his left hand, and braced himself against the ground with his right.

He propped himself up from the ground, trembling as he leaned toward the wheelchair, trying to get in.

Thales' heart skipped a beat. Seeing his strenuous movements, he was about to step forward to help.

But the next moment, Griveaux retaliated with his actions: the strong man grunted, and his powerful right arm seemed to burst with infinite power, shoving hard into the ground!
The next second, the rude man was steadily lifted into the air.

Thales abruptly stopped in his tracks.

With a jolt, Griveaux landed inside the wheelchair without missing a beat.

Griveaux, in his wheelchair, leaned back, exhaled a sigh of relief, glanced contemptuously at the corpses scattered on the ground, and gave a cold smile.

At that moment, Thales suddenly realized that although the other person appeared to be disabled, and even had only half a body left.

But there is no doubt about it.

The man before him was one of the strongest and most powerful warriors he had ever seen.

Just now.

A woman's voice, which he hadn't heard in a long time, seemed to brush past his ears.

Gentle and light, yet with a hint of stubbornness that refuses to compromise.

No, it's called "Qierren".

What they need is not cheap sympathy, nor the so-called help and sympathy offered by us "normal" or "sound" people to satisfy our own moral judgment.

What they need is for us to remove our glasses and treat them truly like normal people—because they are not abnormal in the first place.

The reason they cannot become normal people is that we are too self-righteous, we are not tolerant enough, and this imperfect society has not provided them with the environment to become normal people—whether it is the different gaze brought about by the lack of software or the inconvenience in life caused by the lack of hardware.

Stop making them disabled.

Because they are not.

is her.

is her.

But who is she?

He reached out subconsciously.

But nothing was caught.

Only a blank space remains.

"Hey!"

“You can even get distracted like this?” Greaver pushed the wheelchair in front of him, looked Thales up and down, and nodded his head suspiciously. “You…you’re not brain-dead, are you?”

Thales was startled and quickly pushed the abruptly appearing memory back into the depths of his mind.

Griveo clenched his right fist, making a crisp sound.

The sound made Thales nervous.

He tried his best not to look at the corpses around him and forced a smile.

Focus, now...

Thales took a deep breath, trying to make himself appear more friendly.

Putila said—smile, smile, smile when you are facing the contact.

The prince grinned, revealing a bright white smile, and looked directly at the man in the wheelchair: "So, you're the person Putila was talking about?"

Griveaux frowned and answered loudly, "Who?"

The loud, unpleasant voice startled Thales.

“Putilay, uh, you know…” Thales tried to maintain a smile, forcefully uttering in Common English with a near-Northern accent:
"A strange old man smoking a pipe?"

Grevo blinked his remaining eye and scratched his chin in the moonlight.

He opened his mouth wide impatiently and asked loudly but indistinctly:

"What do you say?"

Thales felt a jolt in his heart.

Not really.

“Or, or there’s someone, who might not be called Putila, maybe he’s using an alias, and he might not even smoke. He probably hasn’t had time to smoke these past few days…” Thales gestured wildly, trying to construct his own words, while inwardly cursing Putila’s unreliability:
"He asked you to give someone...you know, at this time, to give someone, to give someone..."

Thales waved his arms, gently shook his head, and looked expectantly at Griveo, who seemed to be still not quite there: "Give him..."

"At this time? To someone..." The rude man narrowed one eye, his pupils darting around as he pondered for a moment.

He asked tentatively, "You mean... transporting them out of the city?"

Thales' eyes lit up, and he snapped his fingers: "Yes! That's it!"

Griveaux fell silent.

The man in the wheelchair stared at him silently for several seconds.

This made Thales feel slightly uneasy.

until……

"Oh oh oh!"

Greaver's expression changed, and he slapped his forehead!
The burly man suddenly realized what was happening and pointed at Thales with his right hand: "So it was you!"

God bless you.

Thales let out a breath!

He felt as if a weight had been lifted from his heart.

"Yes, yes, yes, yes!"

Thales slapped his thigh, realizing how difficult the negotiation had been. He forced a smile: "It's me, haha, hello there... hehe, um, what's your name?"

“Hmm…” Griveo squinted as he continued to scrutinize him, uttering a low, guttural sound.

That creepy feeling in Thales returned.

“Greev,” a second later, the gruff man laughed, revealing a mouthful of yellow teeth, and extended his right hand to him:
"Drew Griveaux".

Thales breathed a sigh of relief.

Fortunately, the contact person seemed relatively easy to talk to...

He extended his right hand, still shaken, and grasped Greaves's hand: "So..."

Just now.

"boom!"

Before Thales could react, he felt a heavy weight on his right hand, a sharp pain in his neck, and his vision suddenly began to blur!
A tremendous force erupted from Griveaux's right palm, pulling Thales off balance and sending him hurtling toward Griveaux!

"caught you!"

Griveaux's hearty laughter reached my ears.

"Hahaha, trying to sneak out of the city? Hey, you must be the little star prince who got kidnapped, right?"

Griveaux's gruff laughter grew louder and louder, making Thales' ears ache.

what happened?
With difficulty breathing, Thales struggled to open his eyes, only to discover to his horror that Grivell, in his wheelchair, had his hands tightly clenched behind his back!
The latter's left arm wrapped around the prince's neck, the iron-like muscles on his arm like a cage, tightly binding the prince, who had his back to the man, into Griveaux's embrace.

"Whether it's underground or official channels, the entire Dragon Sky City is practically going crazy for you—I usually hate these kinds of things and don't want to get involved, but you actually came knocking on my door yourself! Hahahaha..."

No.

Do not!
The sins of the River of Hell surged forth in an instant.

Thales gritted his teeth and tried to break free, only to find that his struggles were in vain: Greaver held his arms firmly behind his back with just his powerful right hand and abdominal muscles.

Useless.

From the moment Grevo pulled him into his arms, he lost his optimal position to exert force.

Under the other party's restraint, he couldn't even touch JC's dagger.

"Guess what price Valhalla is willing to offer me?"

Greaver's laughter was rather sinister and smug: "Damn it, that deadpan guy smashed so much stuff in my territory this afternoon, he'll pay for it this time!"

Griveaux suddenly exerted force with his left arm!

Thales felt his head tilt back, and then the bright moon and starry sky appeared before his eyes.

“Of course, it’s not necessarily Valhalla. Right now, many people want you,” Grevol’s grip tightened, and the laughter from behind his ear was filled with excitement. “Let me think, should I ask for a thousand or two thousand gold coins? Tsk, is that a bit too much?”

Thales' face gradually turned red, and he felt his neck becoming increasingly uncomfortable: Greaver's left arm was hooked around his neck, pressing against Thales' trachea without any room for resistance.

The force was so great that the prince even felt his back being pressed into Griveaux's chest.

This guy……

How can you exert so much force!
The prince, struggling to breathe, desperately lifted his right leg and stomped down with all his might!
But the pain in his feet told him that he could barely touch the floor and kick the hardwood of his wheelchair.

It was then that Thales sadly remembered that Griveaux had no legs.

"Otherwise, we can have something else, but we need to be careful about this..."

Thales' vision began to blur as he struggled to breathe.

Soon, many "Venus" stars, visible only to him, appeared in the starry sky before him.

No.

This cannot go on.

He desperately inhaled a little air, relying on his extensive experience of being choked multiple times, he held his breath and stopped moving to conserve his energy.

Thales' face flushed red, and he forced out a few weak words from his trachea: "You... are not... the contact person..."

“Greev…”

He was greeted by Greaves's unrestrained laughter:
"Hahaha, I see! You even got the contact wrong. Looks like your intelligence is pretty careless!"

Despite the torment of both oxygen deprivation and pain, Thales desperately maintained his composure.

He no longer had time to complain about Putila.

"and many more……"

Thales' face contorted in pain as he forced out a few words:

"Double!"

"You want money? I'll give you... double..."

Griveaux paused for a moment, then snorted coldly.

“Shut up,” the rude man said coldly through gritted teeth, seemingly unmoved. “Don’t take me for a fool…”

But his voice gradually faded away.

The next instant, Thales felt the pressure on his neck ease slightly.

A long-awaited breath of air, mixed with pain and friction, was inhaled into his lungs.

The sound of grinding teeth came from behind him, along with Greaver's voice, as unpleasant as ever, yet slightly tempted: "Hey, brat..."

The gruff man swallowed slowly and said softly:
"Really... double?"

The next chapter is still being revised and will be uploaded soon.



(End of this chapter)