Kingdom Bloodline

Chapter 402 Middle Finger
"enough!"

Ricky raised his voice, ordering the mercenaries to put away their weapons and return to their positions.

He looked at the three of them impatiently: "I don't care about your internal grudges, whether it's the Dark Room or Exter."

Russell and Dean exchanged a glance before looking away.

“You three, tell me,” Ricky’s patience seemed to be reaching its limit, “Where is the Star Prince…?”

Thales's nerves tightened again!
Meanwhile, Quick Rope, who had just escaped Dean's sight, sighed and patted his chest.

Dean snorted and turned around:

"What business is it of yours?"

Upon hearing this, everyone—from the skewer and Russell to the swords of calamity—frowned.

Ricky tilted his gaze slightly, a cold glint in his eyes.

"That's right, that damn prince had nothing to do with us."

“But it concerns whether we can get aid from our allies,” Ricky said, and the man opposite him smiled and bowed at the opportune moment: “So it’s our business.”

Ricky's tone grew colder, making one want to back away: "You've always been smart, Dean, so you'd better understand this: right now, we're in control here, including who can come in and who can leave."

"Whoever can walk out must lie down to get out."

"Understand?"

As he spoke, the swords of calamity simultaneously drew their weapons forward: "Whoosh!"

Dean's expression hardened.

He looked around with a serious expression, observing the impenetrable walls of the tavern and feeling the ill-intentioned gazes of the mercenaries.

No.

Thales sighed inwardly: They still have too many people.

Finally, Dean let out a breath, his tone softening.

"Ok."

“Your plan, that prince,” Dean said reluctantly, “the Dark Chamber must be involved—even if he’s handed over to King Chaman, he must pass through our hands…”

Russell's expression tightened: "If the darkroom still belongs to Exter, then you shouldn't..."

"boom!"

A loud thud as a heavy hand slammed onto the table.

This startled both Thales and the rope.

“That’s your problem,” Ricky replied, enunciating each word clearly, his tone as cold as winter frost.

"I don't care at all."

The atmosphere in the tavern suddenly became tense, like a thin rope being pulled.

"I don't care who captures that prince, whether you roast him or eat him alive, skin him or dismember him, kill him or have sex with him, but do you know... whoever stops us from achieving our goal is our enemy."

"Dead enemy."

"And if you become the mortal enemies of the inheritors outside the tower..."

"Believe me, you don't want that."

Ricky glanced at Russell and Dean, his eyes filled with a deathly stillness that sent a chill down their spines.

"So I'll ask you one last time, Dean."

Ricky's expression grew increasingly grim. Beside him, the masked man and Clay exchanged a glance, the latter reaching out towards "Dark Light."

Where is that prince named Thales?

Dean clenched his fist.

Sweat dripped from his forehead.

"Everyone..."

The familiar voices of peacemakers rang out once again.

“Who the prince ultimately belongs to is a matter of operational procedures, which can be discussed later,” Qianzi said with a smile as he walked between Ricky and Dean. “The most urgent task is to determine the whereabouts of Prince Thales.”

"Never discuss how sweet honey is before you've tasted it."

Chisel glanced at Dean, then at Russell, his smile remaining gentle: "Do we agree?"

Dean pursed his lips tightly, while Russell tensed up all over.

On the other side, Ricky watched them coldly, while Clay beside him slowly touched the hilt of his sword.

Time seemed to stand still.

Even the sound seemed to have been turned off.

Thales could only hear countless heartbeats, which grew more rapid as the deathly silence continued.

Including himself.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Dean took a deep breath and slowly exhaled.

“I met him in the desert, that prince named Thales,” his voice sounded tired and hoarse, “because there were too many variables and I was isolated and helpless, so I didn’t dare to make a move.”

Now it was Thales' turn to be nervous.

Clay snorted and lowered his weapon.

"And then?" Ricky asked casually, "The prince?"

Dean frowned.

Thales gently bit his lip.

“He’s cunning, that prince,” Dean clenched his fist, recalling something, his facial muscles tightening more and more: “cautious, vicious, good at acting, and scheming. He befriended a merchant named Sepp Tomdin in the desert and followed his caravan into the Blade Fang camp.”

He looked up: "Just yesterday."

Thales secretly breathed a sigh of relief.

"Tom Ding?"

Ricky's eyes lit up: "That down-on-his-luck guy who talks about aristocratic glory all the time?"

Dean nodded. "He still owes me a fee—don't forget to collect it back."

But clearly, his lies were not so easy to get away with.

“But that’s not what your intelligence says,” Russell said softly, looking at Dean, his compatriot who harbored secrets. “You said, ‘Star Prince is in our hands, we’ll evacuate tonight.’”

At that moment, Dean tensed up.

Thales's breathing trembled slightly.

Dean gently raised his head, his eyes filled with anger.

“I’ll settle accounts with you later, Russell,” Dean said coldly, “no matter how you and your master managed to slip rats into the dark room and intercept our intelligence.”

"As for your unauthorized actions here, neither the lady nor the king will be pleased."

"Acting on one's own initiative?"

Russell scoffed, "Hmph, you're the one who reported yesterday that you'd found traces of the Star Prince, aren't you?"

"Gentlemen!" Seeing that the meeting was about to turn into another internal conflict among the Exter people, Chisel had to raise his hands again to maintain order: "Can we focus on the topic?"

Dean and Russell then looked away from each other.

"Dean," Ricky said thoughtfully, "tell me you've caught him, haven't you? 'The Star Prince is in your grasp'?"

Dean grimaced, looking very unwilling.

“Almost, almost got him,” he said through gritted teeth. “I’ve planned to take him down tonight, and I’ve already decided when to make my move.”

After saying that, he turned his head and stared intently at Thales: "Until those two damned guys ruined my plans, just before I set off."

Thales coughed lightly, a smirk playing on his lips. “If you had stayed put in the sack, Dean,” the prince glanced at him defiantly, “we might have caught that cunning little prince by now—along with you all.”

Ricky let out a heavy breath, as if to release the dissatisfaction and resentment in his heart.

Chisel looked at Dean, then at Thales, his eyes darting back and forth.

“Very well, then let’s go find that merchant named Tomding,” Russell said, crossing his arms and pondering, “and make him hand over the prince.”

"Or pay a price."

A cold light flashed in his eyes.

"Get ready, everyone, we're starting the plan now," Ricky tapped the table and snorted, "Tomding's house and the Bone Prison, we have to raid both places simultaneously, and both must be done at the same time. Chisel, I need you in charge..."

At his command, the Swords of Calamity sprang into action.
At that moment, both Thales and Dean secretly breathed a sigh of relief.

“Before that, I need to contact the people in the Dark Room,” Dean said, looking at the two men with a resentful expression. “Those two traitors won’t get back to…”

Just at this time.

"Wait a minute!"

A finger is raised in the air.

Thales and Dean were both taken aback.

It's a chisel.

The spokesperson for the Shadow Shield still had that same smiling face.

The tavern fell silent as Ricky and the others, who were making plans, all looked up.

“This VIP in the dark room named Dean,” the needle gestured kindly to Dean, then pointed to Thales, “you said they targeted you to take your credit or steal it all?”

Dean felt a chill run down his spine.

Thales gritted his teeth as well.

“Just like you, aren’t you?” Dean said calmly.
"The spike of the Shadow Shield, the one who betrayed the Shadow Master."

But Ke Qianzi ignored his sarcasm and instead pressed on with his own question: "And you encountered a prince in the desert, but because you were not confident and were isolated and helpless, you hesitated to make a move?"

Dean scoffed. "I don't want to repeat myself."

Ricky sensed something was wrong. He looked at the chisel, then at Dean: "What's wrong?"

Chisel waved his hand, signaling him to calm down.

“But look at you guys, Dean, you don’t look like you’re all alone,” Chisel said, his expression shifting between Dean, Thales, and Quick Rope. “Although your two subordinates don’t seem very reliable.”

"Not only do people who are drugged wake up halfway through, but they also have to come here for help to destroy evidence of a body."

"Tsk tsk," Qianzi chuckled, "How pathetic. Even the most amateur spies have their limits."

Thales and Quick Rope looked very grim.

“Laugh all you want,” Dean retorted calmly. “I don’t deny that the Dark Chamber is a mixed bag. Unlike the Secret Service, we don’t have a stable, wealthy royal family that provides a continuous stream of support for centuries.”

"However, there are too many people in this world who laugh at Ms. Cassandra and the Darkroom, and you are just one of those ignorant people."

Chisel let out a soft sigh and shook his head apologetically.

"No, no, no, please don't misunderstand, I have never doubted the famous Scarlet Witch."

“However, this has piqued my interest in your two subordinates,” Qianzi said, seemingly genuinely apologetic. He hunched his shoulders, tucked his chin in, and chuckled as he gestured to Thales. “Especially since the mastermind behind your opposition is just a fourteen or fifteen-year-old boy.”

Hearing this, Thales' arm muscles tensed up even more.

Everyone looked over.

Then, the chisel, like a bard, spoke with great emotion:

"Perhaps this promising young man, who began his life in the dark at the age of ten, is also cunning, vicious, cautious, good at acting, and even scheming?"

In that instant, Thales felt a chill run down his spine, and his pupils suddenly contracted as he met the sight of the drill!
Oops.

Oops!

Upon hearing these adjectives, Dean clenched his fists. The others didn't react as quickly, but they soon realized something amidst their confusion and bewilderment.

Dean's face turned pale.

But he soon discovered that the initiative in this meeting was no longer in his hands.

"correct."

“I remember now,” Russell’s voice slowly rang out: “Six years ago, when I was on my mission to the stars and returning with Prince Moral’s body, all I heard was news of the Second Prince.”

"It is said that he was mature beyond his years, quick-witted and intelligent, and that at only seven or eight years old, he refuted a group of highly respected princes and nobles, leaving them speechless."

Russell's eyes sharpened: "Dean, you almost tricked me."

The leader of the Blade of Calamity remained silent, but he made a subtle gesture to Clay.

“What exactly are you implying…” Dean raised his head, his face more serious than ever before, and was about to step forward.

The next second, a flash of sword light appeared!
“Move, Dean,” the swordsman from the North, Clay, said in a faint voice, holding up his Darkblade, “and you will die.”

Dean stared in astonishment at the blade of the sword on his chest: "You..."

But he noticed that, without realizing it, Ricky's gaze had turned cold, while the masked man beside him was giving a faint, cold laugh.

The chisel made a clicking sound.

"have to say."

He reached into his robes, pulled out a small scroll, and slowly unfurled it: "When you've messed up your hair, changed your clothes, and are no longer neatly dressed, but rather ragged..."

Chisel sighed and gently tossed the scroll in his hand aside.

"...They're quite hard to recognize."

Thales lowered his head stiffly, looking at the scroll.

It was a sketch portrait.

The painting depicts a slender, neat-looking boy of about ten years old, with delicate features and a calm expression.

He seemed confident and assured of everything.

"Please forgive my rudeness," Qian Tiao dusted himself off, turned to Thales with solemn gentleness, and bowed deeply.
"My name is Chisel, from the Shadow Shield. It is truly an honor to meet you in person."

"Your Highness Thales."

His tone was respectful, and his posture humble.

At that moment, a collective gasp filled the tavern.

Ricky, the leader of the Blade of Calamity, rose from his chair as if facing a formidable enemy, his gaze fixed firmly on Thales.

Clay frowned in disbelief, looking at the portrait on the ground and then at the ashen-faced boy.

The masked man's eyes were like knives, sharp and piercing, as if he wanted to slice open Thales's face.

Marina could hardly hide the surprise in her eyes, and she couldn't believe that the thief who had just picked the lock was a prince of a country.

Russell looked at the prince with a complicated expression, looking at the culprit who had caused the Exter mission to suffer a crushing defeat years ago.

Dean gritted his teeth, staring furiously at the sword blade in front of his chest.

Quickstrip sighed in pain and covered his face.

Thales slowly closed his eyes, shutting out everyone's reactions, and remained motionless for a long time.

Several seconds passed before he slowly opened his eyes.

The prince sighed heavily, leaned back in his chair, and with an indescribable weariness and a sense of relief at finally achieving his goal, listlessly raised his middle finger at the chisel:
"Fuck you."

----

I've been itching to revise the previous chapters again these past few days, to fix a few bugs.

(End of this chapter)