Kingdom Bloodline

Chapter 37 Starry Night Alliance (Part 1)

Two hours later.

Watch your step!

"Keep your breathing steady!"

"The key to the 'Iron Body' style lies in your footwork. The instant you are attacked, adjust the distance between your legs to deflect the force!"

"If you don't want to die, raise your shield towards the enemy!"

Gini's clear voice rang out, followed by a merciless slash!
Thales gritted his teeth, swinging his sword in his right hand to rotate his body, while the veins in his left arm bulged as he struggled to lift the disproportionately heavy wooden shield with the strength of his shoulder. His right leg was slightly bent, ready to slide away according to the force of the impact to cushion the blow.

"boom!"

Gilbert, who was watching from the sidelines, gently closed his eyes.

After Ginny struck the underside of the shield with her sword, Thales lost his balance for the twenty-fifth time and fell to the sand once more. This time, he was exhausted and could no longer lift the shield.

Oh, how awful.

The boy gasped for breath, trying to lift his head and chest, but the heavy shield pressed firmly against his left chest, preventing him from struggling to get up from the ground.

This aunt, who is also the father's lover, has been wielding a sword for two hours straight, but why, why does she show no signs of exhaustion?
"The swordsmanship of the Northern Army originated more than three thousand years ago in the ancient era of the Chauvin Kingdom and took shape during the period of human kings before the ancient empires." As if seeing through Thales' thoughts, Gilbert's voice rang out in the open space, "According to records, at that time, the ancient elves and the dragons were at war, while the human kings of the North encountered an invasion by ancient orcs in the north."

"This swordsmanship was created to fight against ancient orcs and even dragons—those terrifying opponents whose strength and size far surpass those of humans," Gilbert said earnestly, looking at Thales on the ground. "It is the oldest fighting swordsmanship in human history. It was under such a huge disadvantage, in a battle that was almost hopeless, in a near-death defense and a near-suicidal charge, that the first knights awakened extraordinary power, which is now called 'the power of termination,' becoming the earliest super-class knights in human history."

Gilbert's eyes flashed with a sharp light: "Ms. Ginny is one of the best among the super-class. Not to mention her special finishing power, her observation skills, explosive power, sense of balance, and almost all physical qualities are incomparable to yours. The gap between her and you is like that between the powerful and brave ancient orc and the weak human back then."

Thales looked at Ginny with surprise and embarrassment—to be honest, he still didn't know how to deal with his father's "lover"—and saw her casually flexing her wrists, seemingly unconcerned about Gilbert's praise.

"With further use and accumulation of extraordinary power, this power will grow stronger and stronger. Knights begin to learn to harness these vast and profound powers, to control those immeasurable forces, and to reach a state of complete mastery. Compared to the higher ranks, these knights who have advanced further possess power that is almost unfathomable, and their skills are already exquisitely refined. They begin to understand the essence of power and combat, changing at will, without being bound by rigid rules, and able to resolve a battle with maximum efficiency and minimal losses," Gilbert stepped forward and nodded imperceptibly towards a certain point in the void:

"This is the ultimate realm, the supreme power that transcends the limits of strength."

Thales stared blankly at the sky, recalling Ashida's effortless control over the air and the Yordles' ghostly movements.

“Mortal, Super-rank, and Ultimate – this power classification system spread widely to various races and regions after humanity became powerful,” Gilbert looked at the sky and nodded to Ginny. “Ancient orcs, ancient elves, and even those with superpowers… all began to use this classification system.”

"And all of this stems from the ancient northern military swordsmanship, from that sliver of courage to fight against orcs and dragons for survival." Gilbert's words left Thales in a daze.

"Now, the threat of the ancient orcs is gone, the dragons have vanished from the world, and the Northern military swordsmanship is no longer practiced. Even in the army of the Kingdom of Exter, which takes pride in its Northern bloodline and occupies the ancient lands of the North, this swordsmanship has long been abandoned. Now, the only places that still retain the complete Northern military swordsmanship are the Star Kingdom and the Tower of the End."

“Miss Ginny is one of the few who is proficient in this art. Mr. Thales, please have respect for this sword technique that once saved our ancestors and practice it tirelessly.”

Swordsmanship to fight orcs and dragons?

No wonder—Thales thought dejectedly as he came to his senses: No wonder I felt like a grandson when I swung my sword.

Recalling how he had foolishly raised his shield and swung his sword (being carried along by the sword), moved his feet (being pulled along by the inertia of the shield), and sparred with Ginny (Ginny was training him), Thales felt like he had been beaten like a grandson for two hours. He sighed silently and fell backward with a face full of regret.

“Your previous wound has shown signs of reopening. That’s it for this morning.” Ginny glanced at the sun in the sky, threw down her sword and shield, and said calmly.

“These three defensive stances of the Northern Army swordsmanship will be your homework for this week. As for horseback riding…” Ginny glanced at the foal frolicking happily around the butterflies by the stable, then at Thales struggling to free his left arm from the wooden shield, and sighed, shaking her head. “Go take a bath. Have lunch. Gilbert has prepared an indoor lesson for you at one o’clock this afternoon.”

Afternoon classes?
Good heavens, is there going to be evening self-study tonight?
Thales, who was used to the irregular life of a monk who smoked and drank, let out another breath, feeling the soreness all over his body, and closed his eyes resignedly to his fate.

The most noble illegitimate son of the Star Kingdom reluctantly and laboriously removed his equipment (pulling his left arm out of the shield) and limped into the Mindis Hall.

He only has one hour to shower and eat.

"I must say, his comprehension and understanding are truly remarkable. In just two hours, he has already grasped the basic spirit of this sword technique." Gilbert watched Thales leave, broke the silence, and nodded softly, "When I was his age, I relied on my body to practice swordsmanship, but this child is learning swordsmanship with his brain."

“Compared to this—don’t tell me your observation skills are so poor that you couldn’t notice the strangeness on him!” Ginny’s expression suddenly turned serious as she watched Thales’s figure disappear. While speaking to Gilbert, she suspiciously looked around at the air: “I remember that even a hundred meters away, that cursed mask could be seen clearly.”

“Stop looking around, Yordle isn’t nearby,” Gilbert said calmly, putting his hands behind his back as he watched Ginny’s nervous behavior. “Ever since Thales was unexpectedly kidnapped by the vampires, he’s been by his side every moment.”

“Also, we’ve all noticed,” Gilbert said, frowning slightly, “that child is only about seven years old. He was seriously injured two days ago, but in just two days, he’s almost completely recovered… He practiced swordsmanship under the sun for two hours without any problems… No wonder the bloodline lamp that detects blood didn’t react for seven whole years…”

“This kind of physique can no longer be described as ‘extraordinary,’ it’s simply…” He sighed, trying his best not to think about the other possibility: “The Canxing family is indeed the oldest imperial lineage in the world.”

Ginny also remained silent for a while, and tacitly refrained from saying anything more.

The lady-in-waiting bent down and patted the dust off her boots: "Speaking of vampires, why did you reveal Thales' identity to them and invite them to stay in Mindis Hall? Do you really believe Thales' agreement with that fallen Grand Duchess? He's only seven years old... And you know very well that vampires have killed our people, so we can't trust them... And to vampires, we are a sudden accident, so they can't trust us either."

“You’ve already given us the answer.” Gilbert’s eyes gleamed as he recalled the old vampire with a deathly pale face but full of wisdom: “It’s because of the lack of trust between us that we are wary of each other and even threaten each other.”

"That's why they use their respective secrets and common interests to bind each other together. This is a diplomatic tacit understanding and shrewdness, which is different from a clear and straightforward investigation."

"Hmph, all this pretense and mystery." As if triggered by unpleasant memories, Ginny left the training ground and entered the hall, saying unhappily, "Another Morat."

“Thank you for your compliment, esteemed Lady Ginny,” Gilbert adjusted his top hat and smiled appropriately, “It is a great honor for me to be ranked alongside the head of the Kingdom’s Secret Service.”

And—Gilbert didn't care about Ginny's rude disregard; he thought to himself—that child, though only 7 years old, was no less cunning than that hundreds-of-years-old Grand Duchess.

----------------------

In fact, half an hour later, when Gilbert and Ginny arrived at Thales's study, Thales, who had just taken a hasty bath and was having a meal, was frowning and looking at the expressionless red-eyed little girl in front of him.

Her henchmen, Istrom and Lorana, were locked in a tense standoff with the Terminator guards who had surrounded Thales.

“Step back, vampires,” a swordsman guard who appeared to be the leader glared from behind his helmet, his tone unfriendly. “You are not welcome here.”

“Don’t get me wrong, I don’t like you guys that much either, you short-lived creatures,” Eastren’s nonchalant words only made the guards more annoyed. “Remember? I took down eight guys like you yesterday.” He said sarcastically and provocatively.

With a furrowed brow, Thales took a bite of the carefully seasoned short rib from his fork, and was moved by the deliciousness he had never tasted since his transmigration. He carefully avoided the chubby little girl opposite him, whose gaze was clearly not right.

Unfortunately, this taste can never compare to the dog meat I ate with Yara back then.

Thales looked at the situation and sighed: This is a real headache.

“You’ll never have that chance again, you despicable rat hiding in the vase,” the swordsman leader’s tone plummeted to freezing, his specially equipped silver sword drawn a foot from its sheath. “Try taking a step forward? I’d be happy to avenge my comrades—or I might as well just draw back the curtains and let you soak up some sun.”

The blond, handsome man, looking displeased, decided to take a step forward.

“Don’t be nervous, boys.” Lorana pulled her furious cousin back a step at the right moment. Although she smiled, her words were serious and earnest: “Servants, step back. Your master has an agreement with our master.”

Looking at the Terminator swordsmen before her, whom she wished could kill, Lorana's smiling face grew even brighter: "That's what your master said—we're allies now, shouldn't we forget the grudges of the past? It's just eight lives after all..."

The swordsmen's emotions grew increasingly unstable, with several even grinding their teeth behind their helmets. "My cousin is my cousin," Istrom thought to himself, especially seeing the guards so indignant yet forced to restrain themselves—it was truly satisfying.

Ginny frowned as she was about to go inside when Gilbert grabbed her arm. The gray-haired former diplomat shook his head mysteriously and pointed to the young master in the chair behind the guard.

Ginny looked puzzled.

Until she saw Thales finish his last bite, put down his knife and fork, let out a satisfied burp, and slide off his chair.

What should he do? — Thales pondered this question, looking at the meaningful gazes of the three vampires opposite him.

However, he soon had an answer.

"Thank you for protecting me, Jorah. With you here, I feel very safe," Thales said with a smile, casually tugging at the hem of the swordsman leader's armor.

Jorah, who had once laughed at himself for poking the guards in the stomach on the first morning of his arrival to test whether the guards were stone men, was the leader of these guards. It was he who arranged for the guards to kill the attacking mercenaries one by one.

He knew that he couldn't simply wave these loyal guards away with the same authoritative and domineering gestures as the protagonists in most light novels. Besides, they had just sacrificed eight of their most reliable brothers-in-arms to protect him; facing their most direct enemy, not immediately drawing their swords was already a rare display of restraint. Although they were allies in name only, pretending nothing had happened and waving his men away in front of outsiders might feel good, but it would only chill the guards' hearts.

Thales's face turned serious: "I need your help."

"I will obey your orders."

Although their expressions were obscured, the respectful tone of the guard leader, Jorah, spoke volumes. The swordsmen guarding this place were the most trusted and elite private soldiers of the Starry Sky family. Although they hadn't been informed, based on the mission they had received and their interactions over the past few days, the guards had already formed a fairly accurate guess about the identity of the boy personally delivered by Gilbert and Yodl.

"Because of my previous experience, I do not trust this handsome Mr. Eastren Corleone, nor his beautiful but equally dangerous cousin, Ms. Laura Corleone."

“They left me with a lot of humiliation—their existence troubles me, fills me with worry and fear,” Thales said through gritted teeth, his brow furrowed.

It was as if they truly had a life-or-death feud.

Istren and Lorana were both startled and looked at the Grand Duchess behind them, but the latter remained unmoved.

“Just say the word, young sir,” Jorah’s eyes behind his helmet grew even more piercing, and the sword at his waist drew back an inch, “and our swords will be drawn for you.”

Upon hearing this, the surrounding Terminator swordsmen placed their hands on their sword hilts, their gazes growing increasingly hostile in their shared hatred of the enemy.

“Very well, I want their heads so badly…” Thales stared coldly at Eastren.

The swordsmen all took a step forward, subtly surrounding the vampires.

When Eastren saw the boy's expression, his heart skipped a beat.

Lorana revealed a fierce expression and stretched out her hands.

No way—Istren felt a sudden, inexplicable fear and unconsciously took a step back until the Grand Duchess's whispered words rang in his ears.

“Stay calm, Isa,” came the childish voice, which only vampires could hear, but it reassured Istron: “He’s not going to turn on us.”

"...But because of the sacred covenant, I cannot harm them in my own house..."

“So, get the other two, besides this… young lady, into the hallway, Jorah.” Thales pouted, crossed his arms, and said coldly.

"If they dare to interrupt my private conversation with Ms. Serena Corleone."

A cold glint flashed in Thales' eyes, making Eastren, who was already traumatized, uneasy. The boy turned to Jorah and continued mercilessly, "Jora, and everyone else... you now have a legitimate reason to take revenge."

"Especially the blonde one."

Eastrun's heart tightened.

“If we draw our swords, we will not disappoint you.” Jorah nodded resolutely, stretching his arm out towards the study door.
"Vampires, you heard that."

"Get out, the hallway is the place for you."

An angry-looking Estrom wanted to say something more, but his cousin stopped him.

Lorana skillfully concealed her astonishment, smiled mysteriously, bowed respectfully to the little girl Serena, and pulled Istrom out of the study.

Gilbert, smiling, and a surprised Ginny, made way for the guards and vampires outside the room. The two groups stared at each other warily as they left the study and continued their standoff in the distant corridor.

"Good day, Mr. and Mrs. Corleone." Gilbert gave a neat bow, his elegant mustache slightly upturned. "I know vampires have exceptional hearing, and it's incredibly easy for them to hear what's going on in the study here—I wonder if eavesdropping counts as 'disturbing' Mr. and Mrs. Corleone's private conversation?"

The guards, Jorah and the swordsmen, immediately approached with a tense atmosphere: "Are you eavesdropping?"

Lorana's smile vanished abruptly, while Istrom's face turned ashen.

As the vampires were forced to the outside of the stairs by the enraged swordsmen, Ginny seemed to be deep in thought.

So—Ginny lowered her head silently—Gilbert was telling the truth; he really was a smart and steady boy.

However, he is a little too clever and steady.

Thales let out a breath, and under the slightly strange gaze of the little red-eyed girl, he pushed the heavy study door shut and thoughtfully drew the curtains to block out the sunlight.

The study on the third floor had perfect soundproofing; Gilbert had assured him that even with the hearing of a vampire, it would be impossible for sound to penetrate.

“Alright, yesterday was a time of crisis, now,” Thales exhaled and said seriously, “let’s discuss the terms of the alliance agreement in detail.”

"Especially about my blood, and the parts of you who serve me."

“Very good,” Miss Serena, whose speech was slurred due to her shrunken body, nodded seriously: “We might as well add your identity to the terms that need to be discussed.”

Thales looked puzzled, but his expression changed drastically when the red-eyed little girl said the next sentence.

The woman disguised as a little girl, the true heir of the Corleone family, the legitimate and rightful ruler of the Hill of Pain, Grand Duchess Serena L.A. Corleone, spoke in a low, gurgling voice:
"In other words, there is the problem that Li's right to inherit the throne as a prince has not been recognized for a long time."

Unbeknownst to them, just as Thales skillfully avoided the irreconcilable feud between the guards and the vampires and began negotiating with Serena, on the roof of the third-floor study, Chris Corleone was hiding in the shadow of the fireplace chimney, avoiding the sunlight, in an odd posture and with a blank expression.

“Alright,” Chris Corleone, his ears twitching, turned his head and said, “Our men haven’t started fighting. I think Your Highness and that little boy have probably started talking.”

"We're both at the Extreme Realm, so we don't need to maintain this awkward posture anymore, right?"

Opposite the vampire elder, the masked and silent freak, Yodel Gato, finally tucked the short sword he had been holding upside down back into his clothes, and his figure gradually disappeared.

(End of this chapter)