Kingdom Bloodline

Chapter 389 Chains of Power

"Don't worry, the rest of the team won't be back tonight for various reasons."

Quick Rope lay sprawled on the bed, swinging his wrists, which ached from the intense fight, and said:

"If you ask me, Dean deliberately lured them away; your target was you."

A broken animal oil lamp illuminated the mercenaries' hut. Dean's body, already covered with a coarse cloth, lay quietly on the ground, while Thales sat cross-legged on the ground, leaning against the corner of the wall, watching the comfortable rope on the bed with vigilance.

After a long pause, Thales, having finally managed to sort out his thoughts, spoke softly:
"What's going on? Why, why are you here..."

"What happened?" Quick Rope put his hands behind his head and stared at the mottled ceiling: "It's just like what you see."

“I always thought that apart from some old people in Dragon Sky City, no one else would know that I was alive.”

The rope gestured towards the body covered with coarse cloth:
"Until this guy shows up."

His tone remained relaxed, as if it were a sunny day without any gloom.

"Dark rooms are always everywhere, aren't they?"

“Neither my father nor Sulir liked Ms. Cassan, so I kept my distance from her as well.”

Thales glanced at Dean on the ground.

He instinctively clenched his fist.

“I don’t understand,” he turned to the fast rope and asked his biggest question: “your hair color, your Commass accent, and your age…”

Quick Rope burst out laughing.

"Do you know, Commas is a magical place, with all sorts of different city-states, diverse ethnic groups, and bizarre customs," the former prince exclaimed.
"And along the sea route they opened up, in the Sant Islands southwest of the continent, there is a magical dye. The local tribes use it to dye their hair and even apply makeup, and it won't fade for a month. I only need to worry about the roots..."

Thales frowned as he watched the rope rub against his red hair.

"As for accent and age..."

“Perhaps you haven’t noticed it yourself, Prince of the Stars,” Quick Rope turned his head to the side and smiled at Thales, “but to my ears, after six years in the North, you now have a full Northern accent, and you don’t look like a simple fourteen-year-old boy at all.”

He shrugged.

Thales remained silent, his head bowed.

“Are they all fake?”

Prince Star asked with a heavy heart, "From the Great Desert onwards, the Quick Rope who told jokes, the Quick Rope who played around with everyone, the Quick Rope who fought for the rights of his fallen comrades, even the Quick Rope who 'couldn't write'... have you been acting all along?"

Quick Rope's face darkened.

“No,” he said expressionlessly, resting his hands behind his head, “not all of it is fake.”

"You know, when a pampered, disheartened prince leaves the castle, the first thing he discovers is that the outside world isn't actually that wonderful."

The poor-quality light gradually dimmed, and the room went dark again.

Thales remained motionless.

"So much so that on the very first afternoon that foolish prince arrived in Commas, in the 'City of Sails' of Varirbon, he was swindled out of all his remaining savings—by the way, the three hundred gold coins for crossing the Blackpath were ridiculously expensive—and had to sell himself onto a long-distance ship to begin his maiden voyage, something he had never even dreamed of, thus beginning an unprecedented chapter in his life."

Kuai Sheng said blankly, "In the past six years, he has given up a lot and learned a lot."

At this point, Quick Rope let out a soft snort.

"When I first went to sea, the boatswain had a terrible temper, and he would always point at the ropes that weren't tied properly or should have been loosened, yelling at me: 'Hurry up! Ropes!'"

His tone was full of emotion: "That's how I got my first nickname in life."

Thales remained leaning heavily against the corner of the wall.

Until the next sentence from the fast rope came, tinged with a slight sadness:
"Instead of some bullshit 'born king'."

Thales frowned.

He suddenly thought of King Nuen, but found it difficult to connect him with the optimistic and open-minded, yet strangely complex, Quick Rope before him.

"What kind of nickname will you get, Thales? Have you thought about it?"

Suddenly, Quick Rope asked with great interest, "Adventure King? Hostage King?"

Thales snapped out of his reverie and sighed softly, "Moral..."

"Ah, I see."

In the darkness, Quick Rope's voice rose and fell slightly, tinged with a hint of smugness: "King of Bad Luck."

Quick rope's giggles rang out again.

Thales did not respond.

Until the laughter from the fast rope gradually subsided.

"why."

"Six years ago," Thales asked hoarsely, "why did you leave?"

This time, the room remained silent for a long time.

Quickstrip let out a soft sigh, like a prisoner facing trial and preparing to confront his fate.

"I asked myself this question countless times in the first few years."

The quick rope's voice drifted out softly: "The answer is different every time."

"But in the last two or three years, the answer has gradually become clear."

In the darkness, he slowly sat up, his clear eyes shimmering slightly in the moonlight:

"Because this is my choice."

Thales' breathing quickened.

The words King Chaman had spoken to him, and his evaluation of Morar, all came to mind.

Everything that happened six years ago flashed back to me as if it were yesterday.

"But you just left so irresponsibly?"

Thales unconsciously gritted his teeth: "Abandon your country, your people, your loved ones..."

The silhouette of the rope trembled slightly in the moonlight.

"Do you know how much loss your disappearance caused to the entire Dragon Sky City? Do you know that your recklessness almost brought the two countries to war, resulting in countless deaths and injuries? Do you know what fate your decision has brought upon me, Rumba, Selma, and your father, King Nuen?"

In that instant, Thales felt as if he had returned to the underground crypt of the Palace of Reconstruction, and heard that heavy, majestic voice, faintly carrying power, echoing in his ears.

Fate will prepare you for the future.

The past six years have been filled with bloodshed, death, betrayal, murder, politics, helplessness and powerlessness, utter despair and deep regret. If this is the prince's fate...

Thales's mind was in turmoil.

But faced with fate, this person before me...

"how is he?"

“My father,” Quick Rope spoke hoarsely, interrupting Thales’s thoughts, which he couldn’t quite place—whether it was jealousy or resentment: “Six years ago, when he was dying… what was it like?”

Thales was slightly taken aback.

Nuen VII.

Born to be king.

The indifferent old man stroking the ring.

“All these years, I’ve only heard rumors, but you were there, Thales,” Quick Rope said softly, a slight tremor in his voice.

“You’re there.”

For a moment, only the breathing of the two people remained in the house.

Thales remained silent for a moment.

Dragon blood.

That night six years ago was truly unforgettable.

"I don't know how to describe it, but back then..."

Finally, Thales sighed, suppressing the sudden surge of resentment.

"He's not bad; Nunn still retains the domineering presence and majesty of a born king."

He recounted the past to Kaisen, as if telling the story of his family to a son who rarely came home:
"At that time, he had just punished Fengzhao City, unified the power of the other dukes, and Black Sand Territory was no match for him."

Thales pondered, “And he has survived the crisis of the disaster, witnessed the return of the Sky Queen, and is now thinking of teaching the disaster that broke his toy a lesson.”

The prince said dejectedly, "He even calculated everything perfectly, planning out the future of Walton and Dragonsky City."

And... the future of the Star Prince.

Quick Rope laughed.

"Ah, still the same as always." His tone was nostalgic, yet filled with an almost overflowing melancholy.

"To have everything...in one's own hands."

Thales nodded.

“This was him before his death, the last King Nuen,” the prince said with difficulty, “until…” He didn’t finish his sentence.

"Is it."

Quick Rope picked up where he left off, his tone ambiguous.

Thales sighed, “Don’t worry, it all happened very quickly. In the blink of an eye, he died without feeling any pain.”

Two seconds of silence.

"Is it."

Kuai Sheng leaned against the wall, hugging his knees tightly: "What about Longxiao City?"

Thales's breath hitched.

"Really?" the prince asked, a hint of resentment in his voice. "You're asking me?"

"Calamity struck the Shield District, and a fierce battle with the Sky Queen raged until dawn, with countless dead and wounded... After the king's death, rumors spread and order was disrupted. The Black Sand Territory's army entered the city in the dead of night and clashed with Risban," Thales said, taking a deep breath as if listening to a stranger telling an unfamiliar story. "The White Blade Guard suffered heavy losses, and Nikolai led the last of his men in a desperate counterattack."

Thales' tone grew increasingly urgent.

"Rumba once occupied Valhalla. The five grand dukes held each other's future and lives in the Hall of Heroes, their hands on their sword hilts, locked in a life-or-death tug-of-war. Grand Duke Ronnie and Grand Duke Aurelius even drew their weapons, intending to fight Rumba to the death."

“Kaslan, Mailer… countless people died in that damned tug-of-war.”

With each word he spoke, the shadow of the rope trembled.

"Finally, Selma—I mean Alex Walton—took a difficult path to the throne under immense pressure and with their ill-intentioned gazes."

Finally, Thales stared intently at the figure through the bed frame:

"Amidst countless pairs of eyes filled with mutual hatred, Chaman Lumba, wearing a blood-stained crown, was crowned king amidst a hail of swords and countless corpses, becoming Chaman I."

Quickrope let out a heavy breath.

"For the past six years, Dragon City has been in turmoil and unrest. The Grand Duchess's qualifications have been questioned, the vassals are in conflict, the king has ill intentions, and the feudal lords are eyeing us covetously. As for me, I have been held hostage and a pawn, trapped there until now."

"This is the answer you wanted."

"Are you satisfied?"

Thales said coldly, "Moral Walton, who shirked responsibility and caused all this trouble."

Quick Rope remained silent for a long time.

It wasn't until a full ten seconds later.

"So that's the answer, thank you," Quick Rope replied weakly.

"I regret."

Thales frowned deeply.

"Are you disappointed?"

Prince Star sneered: "That's your kingdom, your city, your homeland."

"And you're 'regretful'?"

Quick Rope shook his head.

"Thales".

His tone was somewhat low.

“When you told Dean that you didn’t want to ask so many questions and just wanted me to disappear forever, I thought you would at least understand something.”

Kuai Sheng seemed to have lost something; his tone was listless, yet it contained an unspeakable sorrow.

Thales took a deep breath: "If you were still here six years ago—well, I mean, if you had at least chosen to return to Dragon City after surviving the assassination attempt..."

Quick rope suddenly raised its head!
"That won't change anything!"

He said coldly.

Thales was stunned.

“It’s still the same: conspiracies, tricks, politics, interests…” Quick Rope said through gritted teeth, “Whether it’s Dragon City or Exter, whether it’s Rumba or Walton, nothing has changed.”

Thales stared at him blankly.

"Of course I know that the casualties were heavy and the cost was high."

Quick Rope said sadly, "This is a power struggle."

"You accuse me of causing trouble by running away."

"But how do you know that if I were in the position of Grand Duke of Dragonrise City or even King Exter, I would have killed fewer people than I do now? Caused less trouble? Committed less serious crimes? And Dragonrise City would be more fortunate and stable than it is now?"

Thales gritted his teeth.

“You don’t know, Thales.”

Quick Rope said coldly:

"Do you really think that the calamities and disasters in Dragon City, and the turmoil and upheavals in Exter, were just caused by Rumba's conspiracy, my willfulness, or my father's missteps?"

He straightened up from the wall.

"My father, the born king, dominated the Western Continent during his lifetime, subdued the feudal lords, and waged endless wars, pushing the prestige of Dragonsreaching City to its highest point in three generations, planting fear and obedience throughout the land, and now all that remains is to unify Exter."

Kuaisheng's tone was icy:

"However, this destined him to become someone's enemy long ago—the enemy of the various dukes, the enemy of the fiefdom nobles, the enemy of the Western Continent kingdoms, and even the enemy of the common people under his rule. Even without Rumba, without the Dark Room, without the Bloody Year, even without the accident of Suliel, without... without my departure, one day, these enemies will also come back in different faces and roles, such as Ronnie, Lyco, Trudida, and even his most trusted subordinates, played by another group of people who are dissatisfied with him, until they overwhelm the throne of Dragon Sky City."

King Nunn's enemies...

Thales pondered, his mind replaying the events of the Dragon Blood Night six years ago, and the people responsible for it: the Black Sand Grand Duke driven to the brink, the fickle Marquis of Cornmas, the deeply hidden secret chamber, the black market forces in the gutter, and even... even the supreme king of the stars.

Even a commoner like Griveaux scorned and disdained his king.

And beside King Nuen... there was only half of his Dragon Sky City.

“My father died not because of a failed plan, an accident, or someone’s foolish act,” Kaisei said with a heavy heart, “but because in this era, he climbed too high, and too many people wanted him dead.”

Thales was stunned.

In countless days and nights, when he recalled the Dragon Blood six years ago, what came to mind was Nuen's miscalculation, Lumba's ruthlessness, the insidiousness of the Dark Chamber, the secrecy of the Secret Bureau, and the scheming of the Grand Dukes and Princes.

but……

"The line between the height of prosperity and the depth of decline is very thin."

“This is the trend, Thales,” Quickrope’s tone grew increasingly urgent:
"After returning from the sea, having narrowly escaped death, I understood: history is not controlled by individuals like us who seem to have high status and extraordinary power, but is determined by the countless unstoppable waves, unfathomable whirlpools, and trade winds that shake thousands of miles across the world."

"If you try to stop the tide, even the strongest warship will be smashed to pieces; if you set sail with the wind, even the most fragile sampan can travel thousands of miles. Before it, even a hero as great as him is powerless to change the course of events, and even a commoner as insignificant as him can ride the wave to the top."

"Too many people only see the conspiracies, the open and covert struggles, and the heroes and outlaws."

"But in the face of a raging tide, an individual is really too insignificant. There is very little we can do. No one can go against the tide and turn the tide—that is just our illusion about those who emerge at the end of the wave."

“Not to mention my father, even if the Restored King and the Dragon Rider King were reincarnated, it would be the same… even if my father successfully handed the throne to me.” His voice trembled slightly.

“I see it very clearly: no matter who sits on that throne, Dragoncity is destined to rise and fall, and no matter who leads the Dragon Kingdom, Exter will also experience its ups and downs.”

Quick Rope silently stared at Thales.

"Just like the royal blood flowing through your veins, just like the once invincible empire."

Thales clenched his fists instinctively.

“If you had still been in Dragon City when those events happened,” the prince’s voice sounded utterly exhausted, “at least Dragon City would have been stable, at least Lumba would have had some reservations, and many people wouldn’t have had to suffer…”

Quick rope lowered his head.

"Do you think that the fact that Dragon Sky City is currently in turmoil and in chaos because of a female duke is necessarily a bad thing?"

He gave a half-smile and a half-hum.

"How do you know that if Dragon City, this formidable and fearsome force after King Nuen, were still inherited by a legitimate male descendant, still wielding the authority of a born king, then wouldn't the new king and the old princes, the enemies both overt and covert, use a hundred times more terrifying pressure and tactics against Dragon City, like ants devouring the corpses of insects, leaving only remains?"

"Wouldn't the casualties and losses have been even more severe than they are now?"

Thales paused slightly.

“Besides, I am not them, Thales. I am not my father, I am not Suriel, and I am certainly not my cousin—Chaman Lumba, who killed his own brother.”

The fast rope sighed softly:

"As for sitting on that uncomfortable throne, scheming day and night, trying to read people's hearts, and forcing oneself to become the coldest and most pathetic tool..."

He looked at Thales in the dimly lit room, his eyes filled with sorrow.

“That’s not power, Thales.”

"It is a chain called power."

It's not finished yet, so don't rush to look at it.

These past few days, I've been studying the character, imitating five or six different versions of Moral's personality, and I'm practically going crazy.

I have a feeling that I'll have to come back and revise this chapter later.

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(End of this chapter)