Kingdom Bloodline

Chapter 383 My Home (Part 2)

Thales frowned, his face grim: "Miss?"

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” Tampa looked him up and down, shrugged, and said with a look of realization, “You look so delicate, and you’ve been sitting so upright with your legs closed. If you didn’t say anything, I would really think you were a girl.”

With mixed feelings, Thales managed a weak smile.

“He’s new to this,” Quick Rope coughed, his face flushed, before catching his breath. “We just rescued him from the desert… Please, be gentle with him.”

Tampa stared intently at Thales, making the latter quite uneasy.

A few seconds later, Tampa's eyebrows relaxed:
He bent down again.

"bring it on!"

“Since she’s from Quick Rope… I mean, since he introduced her…” As Tampa stood up, a glass of frothy beer was slammed into Thales’s face. The tavern owner’s voice was hearty and cheerful: “The first glass, authentic West Wilderness beer, is a freebie!”

Thales, who had just been mistaken for a girl, was immediately flattered.

"Thank you!"

The faceplate of the quick rope is surprisingly useful.

The prince politely pulled over the wine glass, looked at the satisfied smile on the rope, and wondered what kind of wine it was.

“I knew it. So many people suddenly showing up at Baki’s camp… it couldn’t be anything good,” Tampa said, leaning on the bar and pouring Quickrope his second drink. “Grey bastards, huh? So this is another desert war?”

Quick Rope's face fell.

"Do not."

Dean said no.

He stiffly downed his second glass of wine, and this time, he didn't cough.

"Is it."

Tampa thoughtfully filled his cup: "But at least..."

"The good news is, no one in your group has deposited money with me, so I don't have to return it..."

Quick rope's glass, halfway up, stopped in mid-air.

The young mercenary was slightly taken aback.

“Actually, Tampa,” Quick Rope pulled the glass from his lips and swallowed hard, “there is.”

Tampa frowned.

"Have!"

The rope jerked violently, as if pricked by a needle.

"Kanze, that greatsword from the North, remember him?"

"He deposited it, he deposited it, he promised to deposit the money with you, this is..."

Kuaisheng suddenly jumped up from his seat and frantically pulled a tattered little notebook from his waist pocket.

"These are his belongings, his accounts; he hid the money in the flowerpots in his room..."

Under the gaze of Thales and Tampa, Quick Rope's tone sounded somewhat hurried, with a slight tremor.

“He has…he has twenty-one Mindis, eighteen Midil, plus thirteen Northern Solons and ten Kahns, nine Anrenzo Kellers, four Commass Southeast General Certificates of unknown denomination, seven Levor Independent Coins, five Steel City Hammer Coins, and countless other annoying little squares from the Three Kingdoms of the Lost Sea…and two Tabisos.”

Quickly flipping to the last page, he read the messy handwriting on the paper.

“Right, right… on that morning, before he died.”

The sound of the rope slowed down, and he stared blankly at the small ledger.

Thales stared at him blankly, recalling the tough northerner carrying a greatsword.

but.

"No, quick rope."

“I don’t remember him being here,” Tampa frowned, looking at the crumpled little notebook that was barely better than trash. “And there’s no signature of his in my records…”

Kuai Sheng's face turned pale.

“Tampa,” he gritted his teeth, seemingly knowing his words weren’t very convincing, but still trying his best to explain, turning the page back to show Tampa: “He did indeed have it with me, I can go and get the money for you, look, it says here, twenty-one Mindis…”

“Stop, I don’t want to be annoyed to death by your Common accent,” Tampa said coldly, “or killed by your stupid math skills.”

“So strictly speaking,” Quicksword said, shaking his head vigorously as if he hadn’t heard him:

"He saved it, Tampa, Kanze saved it!"

Tampa stared at him coldly.

“And Kanze didn’t come back,” Quicksword’s expression darkened, and his voice became much lower:
"So, according to the rules, he should get his share..."

“Impossible,” the tavern owner shook his head bluntly. “The money is with you, it didn’t pass through my hands—look at my ledger, there’s no record of him on it, so it doesn’t count.”

Thales watched the argument silently.

"That counts!"

Kaisen said anxiously, "It's just... I didn't have time to give it to you. He was very reluctant at first, but he hesitated and decided... He's with me... I plan to give it to him after I get back..."

"Tampa, please!"

“Rules are rules,” Tampa coldly shook his head: “No way.”

"I promised him."

Quick Rope's argument was almost desperate; he weakly flung the small notebook around: "I promised!"

“Then perhaps…” Tampa interrupted him rudely, “should you be the one to pay for those things?”

"Remember—ten times!"

He said fiercely, then turned and left.

Kuaisheng stared blankly at the tavern owner's departing figure, the small notebook in his hand falling limply to the ground.

Thales sighed and patted Quick Rope on the shoulder.

"Quick rope..."

The tavern's noise seemed to have returned to this small corner.

Kuaisheng sat down silently and put Kanze's notebook back into his waist pouch.

The young mercenary stared intently at his wine glass.

A few seconds later, he suddenly laughed.

“You know, Wyman.”

“Kanze, he was the first,” Quick Rope said, shaking his shoulders as he raised his glass and downed it in one gulp. “He was the first business deal that lost money for me.”

Thales moved slightly.

“Kanze came from the North and settled in Xingchen. He has two children, a boy and a girl, and a wife who is sickly all year round…” Kuaisheng put down his wine glass, expressionless: “They live in the wasteland. Old Hammer brought him here. I’m thinking… how is Old Hammer going to tell his wife and children?”

Quick rope leaned out, picked up a bottle from the bar, and poured himself another drink.

"You know."

“He gave me the address for depositing money, and he also left me the ledger,” Quick Rope said blankly, “but I…”

“Quick Rope,” Thales sighed softly, “he’s gone. It’s not your fault, and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

Quick Rope's shoulders trembled slightly.

"There's nothing I can do..."

He continued pouring the wine, and laughed again along the way.

"You know, a long, long time ago, as long as a lifetime ago... there was a ship..."

Quicksun stared blankly at the bottle, his smile slowly freezing: "On the ship is a young sailor who has been determined to go to sea since he was a child, hoping to one day sail to the end of the sunset."

"His first voyage took him to the place that ended the most legendary place at sea: the Eye of the Sea."

Thales frowned.

"That's a cursed land that even the sea-herding girl can't protect."

"The compass malfunctions, the sails are torn, pirates are everywhere, fog is everywhere, dark clouds cover the sky, seabirds are nowhere to be seen, in the boundless darkness and endless drifting, even the eternal starry sky has changed its appearance, giant waves, whirlpools and reefs are endless, and beneath the terrifying surface there is even..."

The quick rope's voice became hoarse.

"The captain, first mate, second mate, observer, sail handler, helmsman, combat officer, boatswain, and kind Uncle Bill... almost everyone is dead."

"Everyone."

He shuddered slightly, then continued pouring the wine.

Thales resisted the urge to look up at him, and simply reached out to lift the bottle from the overflowing glass.

The rope paused for a long time, letting Thales take his bottle.

"As the last man left on that ship, the young sailor clung to the last plank, bobbing up and down in a daze, listening to the endless roar of the waves, watching the alternation of day and night around him. He was thirsty, hungry, cold, and afraid. He didn't know where he would drift or what his fate would be. All around him were the swollen, pale corpses of his companions and the bone-chilling seawater..."

"He's the same way... unable to do anything..."

Thales could no longer contain himself; he pressed down on the other man's glass: "Quickly..."

The sound of his quick rope trembled between his clenched teeth, but he still stubbornly took his glass:
"The young sailor survived—but he could never go to sea again..."

"Because no matter when or where, as long as he closes his eyes, he can see broken planks and the corpses of his companions; if he presses his ears, he can hear the surging waves and the roar of the torrential rain; if he twitches his nose, he can smell the salty stench of the sea and the scent of blood..."

With trembling hands, Kaisen picked up the glass and drank it all in one gulp.

"From that time on, he feared ships, the ocean, lakes, and even all places with water in the world..."

"So he came to the great desert."

"The place with the least water in the world".

Boom!
Quick rope smashed the cup on the bar.

"But even in the vast desert..."

He gripped the wine glass tightly.

“When a person dies, they leave nothing behind. Wyman, not a trace,” Quick Rope’s voice grew increasingly hoarse.
"You disappear from this world, with no more thoughts, no more feelings, no more consciousness, leaving nothing behind, having no meaning, and knowing nothing at all."

His chest heaved: "Kanzer, Panga, Harken, Breeze... they know nothing anymore."

Thales listened silently.

"Then what is the meaning of our lives?"

Quick Rope said hoarsely, "To suffer and endure hardship, and then wait to be slapped to death by fate, disappearing without a trace, as if you had never been in this world at all?"

Thales bit his lip, unsure how to respond.

Quick rope reached out, but grabbed at empty air where the bottle should have been.

At this moment.

boom!
A thick, black leather notebook was slammed onto the bar counter.

Thales and Quick Rope looked up in confusion.

The menacing-looking tavern owner, Tampa, stood before them, one hand gripping a bottle of liquor, the other pressing down on a black leather notebook, and coldly said to Quick Rope:
"Look what kind of customer you've found for me."

"What I need are those who are strong and capable, but often in unstable situations, seemingly prone to many unexpected events, but in fact, they all manage to return safely..."

Quick Rope paused slightly, his unfocused gaze lingering for a long time.

“That’s how I make money, you know? And the first client you approached was someone who lost money… I really regret taking you on as my subordinate. I actually thought ‘Dant’s Greatsword’ would be a good market, but it’s all gone so quickly…”

Thales frowned slightly, feeling a bit uncomfortable with Tampa's words.

Upon hearing the familiar name, Kaisen gritted his teeth and retorted defiantly:
"Yes, we are!"

"With strong muscles like Kanze and Harken, skilled guides like McKee, sharpshooters and sentries like Panga and Breeze, experienced old Hammer, and the best infatuated female captain," Quick Rope painfully gripped his empty glass:
"And the smartest Dean!"

“We…” His tone turned somber: “We were supposed to be the kind of people who ‘looked very unexpected,’ but were sure to come back safely.”

His voice trailed off, the last syllable of which was faintly indistinct.

"should be."

The tavern owner stared intently at the rope.

A second later, he slapped a pen hard onto the black notebook—thud! "Write his name in the ledger here—that Kanze."

Tampa glared fiercely at Quick Rope: "These are the rules. I won't allow even a single account to be unclear."

In that instant, the surrounding noise seemed to be shut out again.

Thales looked at Tampa in surprise: he understood what the other person meant.

Quick rope was stunned.

His drunkenness seemed to have dissipated somewhat.

"boss……"

Tampa gritted his teeth and angrily pushed the black ledger forward: "Then go and find out exactly how much he saved, in Star Currency, please give me a round number, damn it!"

Quick rope's breathing became rapid.

"Thank you, thank you!"

Having figured things out, Kuaisheng excitedly pulled Kanze's notebook from his waist pouch: "Tampa, boss, Boss... I'm writing this on behalf of Kanze's wife and children..."

"Shut up!"

Tampa slammed his notebook down impatiently, the bottle pausing on the bar. "Hurry up! Write your name down! Damn it... you drank half a bottle of my good liquor!"

Quick Rope jumped up like a startled rabbit: "Of course!"

He hurriedly took the pen: "So I'll write it here? Um, Kanze, is it K or C, or does it start with some other letter?"

"The devil knows!"

Tampa crossed his arms and said irritably, "It's going to be another mess anyway—you fucking try touching this bottle of wine again!"

Kaisen, who was about to have another drink, was startled. Looking at the notebook with a troubled expression, he shook his head to shake off the drunkenness and immediately turned to his helper.

“Wyatt, can you write? Dean said you're someone with status in the North, so you might know how…”

Thales raised an eyebrow, took the pen and ledger: "Give it to me, I'll try to spell it out... Kan-ze—"

The savior, Kuai Sheng, beamed with gratitude, waving Kanze's little notebook in his hand: "It's all yours now, I have to..."

Before the smile on Quick Rope had faded, he looked up and saw the tavern owner's wrinkled face.

“If you dare to add even a single copper coin, quick rope, even the cheapest Northland Cain copper coin…” Tampa leaned forward, baring his teeth in a ferocious grin: “Fraud… Do you miss the Prison of Bones?”

Quick Rope shivered, pulled up his pants, and turned away hesitantly: "I have to, I have to go find Enzo to count... and ask about the latest currency exchange rates..."

Watching the rope disappear into the distance, Tampa spat out a curse: "All you do is cry over a bottle, what a spineless coward."

Thales didn't speak; he just smiled and lowered his head to begin writing.

"C."

Thales looked up in confusion: "What?"

"Kanze's name," the tavern owner whispered, pressing his bottle without looking up.
"Starts with C".

Thales' pen stopped.

"how do you know?"

The boss gave a light snort:
"When he first came to Baki Camp, I was the one who introduced him to Old Hammer."

“Write it neatly. Names are important, especially in this notebook,” Tampa said casually, rubbing the bottle of liquor in his hand, his gaze unwavering. “Because even if you write it wrong…”

"He'll never know."

The boss's words were slightly stiff.

Thales lowered his head.

Following the previous format, he neatly wrote Kanze's name on the latest page of the ledger. After finishing, he flipped back a few pages to check the format and make sure he didn't make a mistake.

But his hand stopped on one of the pages.

Thales narrowed his eyes.

A second later, the prince looked up from the ledger in surprise and called out a name:
"Cohen Karabyan?"

Tampa was taken aback.

"what happened?"

Upon seeing the familiar name, Thales was slightly excited:
“The name on the ledger… I know this guy.”

"So, Cohen used to deposit money with you... September 14, 671, deposit amount..."

Tampa frowned.

As Thales read the words in the ledger, his eyes widened:

"A full two hundred and fifty Tormund gold coins?"

Two hundred and fifty... gold coins?
After a long pause, Thales exhaled and looked ahead in disbelief:

"Oh shit."

Big dog owner.

A few seconds later, Tampa finally withdrew his strange gaze from him.

In the bustling tavern, Tampa waved to one of the waiters to attend to a group of new guests.

Tampa retrieved the ledger, glanced at the contents, and then looked thoughtfully at Thales.

"You know him?"

"of course."

Recalling the past in Valhalla and reflecting on his current situation, Thales couldn't help but sigh, "We were... friends, I suppose. We once stood together and fought side by side."

"Standing together, fighting side by side?"

Tampa seemed taken aback. He looked Thales up and down and asked suspiciously, "You, and Cohen?"

“Um,” Thales said somewhat embarrassedly, “to be precise, I was standing while he was fighting.”

Tampa stared straight at Thales until he burst out laughing and gave Thales a hard slap on the shoulder!
“Very well! He’s my friend too, haha, Cohen, that skinny little rascal, sneaky, shrewd, and opportunistic bastard…”

what?
Skinny and small, sneaky and shrewd?

Thales paused for a moment.

"what?"

But Tampa seemed to have no intention of stopping, and the more he talked, the more excited he became, the scar on his neck throbbing: "...He's the least timid when it comes to fighting, and he loves to lift up girls' skirts!"

The most timid... lifting up a girl's skirt...

Thales's expression grew increasingly strange.

"Um, maybe we're not talking about the same Cohen?"

Tampa's smile froze.

“But that’s Cohen Karabyan, black hair, brown eyes, looks like a skinny monkey,” Tampa said, a hint of doubt in his eyes. “Which Cohen are you talking about?”

Thales scratched his head and chuckled.

“Cohen… well, a runaway young master. He’s very tall, almost six and a half feet, very strong, muscular, blond and blue-eyed,” Thales tried to describe the tall man in his memory, looking hopefully at his boss: “He’s good with a sword, agile, likes to bully people with his body when fighting, and when he talks, he’s a bit… how should I put it…”

Thales thought for a long time before finally raising his head and saying awkwardly:

"...Stupid and silly?"

Tampa's face scrunched up again after hearing these descriptions.

"Sounds like an annoying idiot."

Thales sighed.

Ok.

It seems... there really was a mistake.

“In fact, if you know him, it’s hard to dislike him,” Thales said, shaking his head. “He’s a bit… peculiar.”

Tampa seemed lost in thought.

“Well, what we were saying,” the tavern owner shrugged, “maybe it really isn’t the same Cohen.”

“Oh,” Thales picked up his glass and gave an awkward smile. “I see—sorry, I mistook you for someone else.”

Just as Thales was about to take a sip of his drink to ease the awkwardness—

Boom!
Thales looked at Tampa, who was pressing his hand firmly against his glass, in surprise: "What's wrong?"

The owner of "My Home" tavern shook his head expressionlessly.
"Believe me, you don't want to drink this."

Under Thales's astonished gaze, Tampa spilled the wine from his glass.

“There’s a bit of horse urine in there, and a few of my old phlegm,” Tampa said nonchalantly, tossing the “stirred” glass aside. “Maybe there’s something else to make you drowsy, but it’s delicious and profound.”

Thales was completely stunned.

Horse urine...

Old phlegm...

He stared at the shop owner, then at the glass on the floor, recalling the foamy contents of the drink and how he had almost drunk it...

Suppressing the discomfort in his stomach, Thales angrily raised his head: "What!"

Tampa grinned, but his fierce appearance made the smile look ugly.

"Although you look like a 'white pig' who just arrived at Baki's camp and doesn't know anything."

The tavern owner shrugged: "But I don't think you're that simple... so I need to see what's going on with you... before deciding whether to rip you off or take advantage of you... or, you know, there have been a lot of nobles coming to the camp lately, and pretty boys are all the rage among them."

"Clearly, Quick Rope is not a good bodyguard."

Thales was first stunned, then looked at Tampa with righteous indignation:

"you……"

The boss chuckled, glancing sideways at the prince: "Some nasty places are used to teaching newcomers a lesson... both as a test and a punishment. If they're 'white pigs,' they're sold off for a quick buck."

Thales looked at the glass and protested with disgust, "White pig... what's going on?"

Tampa tapped the ledger and squinted. "Got it, kid."

This is called 'the first lesson'.

Didn't Cohen teach you that?

Thales held the bar in disbelief.

The world has wronged me with injustice.

All I could do was respond with a look of grief and indignation.

So the prince could only look at the other person with grief and indignation: "Then why did you change your mind again?"

Tampa laughed heartily.

"Because you actually know Cohen, and may have even fought alongside him, instead of just spouting nonsense to go along with my words and pretending to be familiar with him."

Thales frowned: "Cohen."

"Yeah, that violent gorilla you clearly hate, yet find hard to truly hate." The boss nodded, pointing to the name in the ledger, a hint of nostalgia in his voice.

Tampa chuckled:
"Cohen, the big oaf, Karabyan."

silence.

Thales was still furious. He looked at the other man with displeasure and said sarcastically, "Oh, thank you. This is the first time I've heard of his 'middle name'."

Tampa then took out another bottle of wine and a new glass, and filled it for him without hesitation.

"You're welcome," the tavern owner hummed a tune, pushing out his new glass to greet the new customer: "Authentic West Wilderness Beer..."

He curled his lips into a sly smile, revealing a few teeth:

"Drink with confidence, no additives."

(End of this chapter)