Kingdom Bloodline

Chapter 493 The Third Party

The prince and the duke remained silent for a while.

"So this is your purpose today."

Thales pulled the dagger stuck in the bedside, tossed it in the air, and caught the handle perfectly as the blade flipped—a move that had become increasingly skillful and simple after countless battles.

Cyril's eyes narrowed slightly as he watched the prince's actions.

Thales raised the tip of his blade and hesitated for a moment:

"You want to recruit me to join you, to become a third party outside the two major camps, to hold back the ever-accelerating chariot of stars between the iron whip of the charioteer and the galloping hooves of the wild horse?"

third party.

In that instant, it was as if the clouds on the horizon had blocked out the sunlight, and the room became dim.

The Duke of the Western Wilderness pressed his cane repeatedly with both hands.

“A spirited horse will not yield to an iron whip, nor will its rider relinquish the whip,” he said sharply.
"And whoever is on the carriage cannot sit idly by and wait for it to fall apart."

Thales flicked the blade between his fingers.

"so."

Thales scoffed and rudely pointed the tip of his blade at the Duke:

"All of this, including your inexplicable appearance, your sword-wielding intimidation and alarmist rhetoric, and your condescending and authoritative words, was all for this moment?"

Thales stared at Cyril with a half-smile.

Cyril stared at him for a moment, then hummed softly.

"Do you think I'd just randomly grab a fourteen-year-old kid off the street and tell him all this?"

Cyril said coldly:

"If I can't first ascertain what kind of person you are, if you're just a spineless coward who's all talk and no action, if you're just an impulsive brat raised by the Yankees with a head full of muscle, if you're just a self-absorbed idiot who thinks he knows the truths of the universe just because he's read a few history books and catalogs..."

Thales raised an eyebrow.

The duke glanced at him sideways and said disdainfully:

"Then you're not worth all the words I've said."

The boy was slightly taken aback.

Thales let out a breath and tucked the dagger back under his pillow:

“You know, if you’re trying to win me over by praising me, you could use some better words.”

The Duke of the Western Wilderness opened his lips, which seemed to be missing a piece of flesh, and let out a sinister laugh, sounding like a dried corpse opening its mouth.

"Don't worry, you won't lack sweet words. The prince's return is a major event that will shake the stars, and countless eyes will be focused on you."

Cyril squinted:

"But you need to be even more careful and vigilant."

"Powerful nobles and lords will rush to you, trying to win over the prince who has recently returned home, and will do everything they can to get you on their side and turn you into a vanguard against the Restoration Palace."

Falkenhausen's tone changed:
Before accepting their good intentions, remember: they are only against your father, not truly loyal to you.

Thales fell silent.

He suddenly remembered what the rope had said.

The shackles of power.

How will he manage to live a different kind of life?

Thinking of this, Thales took a deep breath and looked up:
“They won’t succeed.”

Cyril shook his head dismissively:

“When I say ‘win over,’ I mean more than just knocking on doors and giving gifts.”

Thales frowned and retorted:

"Of course, it might also include drawing a sword to intimidate me, and then telling me, 'The carriage can't fall apart'?"

This time, Cyril fell silent.

A few seconds later, the Duke said quietly:
"You know, some things are just nonsense to the vast majority of people in the world."

Telston was completely bewildered.

Cyril snorted:

"Remember what I said today."

He held up a finger and waved it near his lips:
"All."

Cyril's eyes gleamed coldly:

"Just in case you ever need it."

He paused for a second, then curled his lips in a rather wicked way:

"All."

Thales stared at the Duke in this state, feeling uneasy.

But Cyril quickly changed the subject:

"You should be more careful about your father than these things."

Father.

Thales's nerves slowly tightened.

The image of that strong figure reappeared in his mind, reminding him of the suffocating feeling he had when facing the other person.

The Duke's voice echoed in my ears, carrying a peculiar meaning:
"As you grow older, he may realize that you are no longer that poor child, and he may try to win you over as a father and control you with the power of a king."

"but……"

Falkenhausen’s tone changed again, but he suddenly fell silent, and the surroundings seemed to instantly turn cloudy, as if rain was about to fall.

He stared intently at Thales, his terrifying face and cold eyes sending a chill down Thales' spine.

"When news of the upheaval in Exeter six years ago, the death of King Nunn VII, and the political reshuffling in the North reached Star City, everyone was stunned."

The Duke's tone and rhythm became heavy and slow, reminding Thales of Putila when he recited bard poems:
"Who would have thought that just a few months ago, we old folks were living in constant fear, worried that those unruly northerners would come south again."

Cyril exhaled softly and pointed at Thales:

"But some people, some people, with just a light touch, have pierced the incomparably powerful and aggressive dragon kingdom, leaving it riddled with holes and unable to take care of itself."

"Do you know what that means?"

Overbearing and domineering...

Riddled with holes, too busy to even take care of itself...

What does it mean?
Thales couldn't help but recall the nightmarish night in Dragon City.

Dragon blood.

He glanced at Cyril, who was pointing at him, and cleared his throat awkwardly.

"You overestimate me."

The prince sighed:
"Six years ago, it was just an accident, and even more so, a tragedy, and I had no part in it..."

Cyril interrupted him coldly: "I didn't say it was your doing."

Don't be presumptuous.

Thales was taken aback by those words, and his face turned quite ugly.

The unpopular duke sneered:

"As I said, from the final battle to the bloody year, Falkenhausen has followed the star since ancient times."

He pointed to the ancient imperial sword leaning against the wall.

"Over the course of nearly seven hundred years, the warning witnesses much history," Cyril said with utmost solemnity.

"More than you can imagine."

Thales felt Cyril's cold gaze and a sense of foreboding washed over him.

"So I know."

The Duke said softly:
"The so-called 'disaster' that struck Dragon Sky City was definitely not an accident or a rare coincidence."

Disaster struck the world.

It was no accident.

At that moment, Thales pressed his thigh tightly.

Fortunately, Cyril did not look at him again.

The Duke paced to the window, gazing wistfully at the camp:

"Although they are cleverly concealed and blurred, embellished and whitewashed each time they appear, over time they eventually become hearsay and bedtime stories for passersby..."

"But I know they exist, and they are real."

It exists, and it is real.

Thales breathed a sigh of relief.

He took a deep breath to conceal his changing emotions.

Cyril's voice grew increasingly shrill and urgent:

"Moreover, every time they appear, they are inseparable from our world."

The next moment, the Duke Guardian of the Western Wilderness suddenly turned around, his eyes flashing like lightning as he stared straight at Thales!

"Whatever happened in Dragon City, it was your father who did it."

He said firmly:
"He and that old viper Morat, in some way..."

It was your father who did it.

Thales stared back at the other person silently, enduring the bloody memories churning in his mind.

But no matter how hard he tried to ignore it, he couldn't help but recall those images:

The blue light in Ashida's eyes, the purplish markings on Giza's face, the tears on Xiaohua's cheeks, the scarred body of the Black Sword, and the eerie gaping mouth on Raphael's arm.

as well as……

King Nuen's head fell to the ground.

"Your father's chessboard is cold and unforgiving, and you don't know what his next move will be."

"Is it to ignore the rules, or to overturn the chessboard?"

At this moment, the Duke's expression was serious, and his tone was cold:

"Be strong, child."

"Don't become a pawn that can be manipulated and sacrificed at will."

Arbitrarily arranged.

Sacrificing oneself at will.

Sensing the other party's obvious provocation, Thales took a deep breath and then slowly exhaled.

“I am his successor, and my interests are aligned with his.”

The prince's tone carried a hint of refusal.

"My safety is related to the stability of his rule."

"And he is my father."

But this only earned Cyril another sarcastic remark:
"Who knows."

Duke Falkenhausen coldly said:
“Four hundred years ago, King Elan Canxing I, known as the ‘King of Ascension,’ sacrificed his son to the gods in order to pray for victory.”

Kill your son to sacrifice to the gods.

Thales' breath hitched, and he clenched his fists.

The Duke gazed into the distance, his voice drawn out:
“And every day, your father is making new history.”

Thales closed his eyes.

"Your father and his enemies..."

"Six years ago, because of your appearance, the outcome of the first round was already decided."

"But six years later, from the day you returned to the country, the second round began."

The Duke's tone was somewhat frightening:

"And that would be no easier."

Silence fell over the room once again.

Until Thales slowly opened his eyes.

"Therefore, Your Excellency the Duke is neither a member of the nobility nor a third party loyal to the monarchy."

Cyril narrowed his eyes slightly; he could sense that the prince was somewhat different at this moment.

“If that day really comes,” Thales stared straight at him:
Can I count on your strength?

The two were silent for a while.

It was as if they all knew what such a moment meant.

A few seconds later, the Duke spoke slowly, his face devoid of any smile:
“If I were the one-eyed man from the cliff, I would say ‘yes’.”

Thales snorted lightly through his nose:
"But you're not."

The Duke slowly nodded, then shook his head:
"I'm not."

The prince sighed softly.

of course.

He got it.

But then Thales suddenly remembered something and chuckled.

“You know what? People from the North don’t ask ‘can’ or ‘can’.”

The prince's tone was quite nostalgic:
"They only ask 'Will you do it or not'."

The Duke was taken aback.

But a few seconds later, Falkenhausen chuckled:
"Sometimes I'm quite grateful to the Northmen—even if they're brainless, at least they raised an interesting prince for us."

Thales laughed too:

"This is the third time you've insulted them. Why do you hate the people of the North so much?"

Duke Cyril paused for a moment, his expression complex.

"Because my wife is from the north."

Thales paused, taken aback. The Duke looked at Thales and gestured with his finger with an air of importance: "Let me give you some advice..."

"Don't follow my example."

Before Thales could react in surprise, the Duke of the Western Wilderness burst into laughter.

Amidst the other party's sharp and sarcastic laughter, Thales's expression gradually turned cold.

How can I be sure?

The Duke's laughter stopped abruptly.

The prince stared intently at Cyril, his words laced with caution:
"The third party—although you make it sound so appealing, how do I know you're not just trying to push me into the eye of the storm, using me as a shield and a battering ram?"

The room fell silent for a moment.

Until Falkenhausen slowly exhaled, as if he had figured something out.

He chuckled and looked at Thales again:
"A year ago, when you were still building snowmen in Dragon Sky City..."

“Your father wrote to us in secret, asking us to mobilize the army to rescue his heir to the throne and bring him back to the country.”

Thales felt a slight chill:
a year ago?

The prince has returned to his country. How long has this game of chess, this strategic maneuver, been planned?
Cyril seemed lost in thought, continuing on his own:
"The lords of the Western Wilderness—my vassals—thought they had seized a rare opportunity. In their folly, they took the chance to make things difficult and extort money from the royal family, wanting to reclaim the Blade Fang Camp from its 'temporary' control. His Majesty readily agreed."

At this point, Duke Falkenhausen's eyes sharpened:
"But one of my courtiers advised me against sending troops, believing it to be a malicious trap."

Thales frowned.

The Duke stared coldly at the Baki camp below the window, then suddenly turned around.

"But Falkenhausen still sent troops."

Even if I know there's a problem with it.

"Do you know why?"

Thales silently met his gaze for a few seconds before looking away.

"You said it."

The prince looked elsewhere, a hint of irony in his eyes:
"When facing your vassals, you don't want to be the one who has replaced the king, hindering the lords from regaining power, and fall down in a pincer attack."

He sarcastically remarked:

"For example, right now, aren't you the one they pushed out to get revenge? The third party?"

This time, Falkenhausen looked at him for a long time.

"Do not."

The Duke spoke slowly

"because……"

“From the cold-blooded King to the fanatical lords of the Western Wilderness, I am the only one among the participants in this power struggle.”

The only one?

Thales was slightly taken aback.

"While the Wings of Legend and my vassals were all focused on the Blade Fang camp, no one cared about the important matters in the desert, no one cared about the heir to the kingdom who should have been the protagonist..."

Cyril gradually became serious:
"I am the only one who believes in me..."

"I believe that, more important than the ownership of the Baki camp, more important than the positions of the nobles, more important than His Majesty's success or failure..."

The Duke bent over, almost pressing his head against his cane, glancing sideways at Thales from afar, his right hand on the cane pointing directly at the second prince:
"Rescue you, rescue Prince Thales Star and bring him safely back to his country."

"That's what everyone should really care about—the top priority."

Thales stared blankly at Falkenhausen, his feelings a complex mix.

Cyril straightened up, concealing his earlier aged and withered appearance.

His eyes were sharp, as if they could see through everything.

"Ok."

Thales began with difficulty:
"You're quite good at saying nice things too..."

But the Duke spoke again, interrupting him!

"so!"

“I prevented certain lords from secretly leaking information to Exte and obstructing your return home.”

Cyril raised his voice.

Thales was taken aback.

The Duke's tone became melodious, greatly reducing the shrillness of his voice:

"That's why Baron Guz led his most efficient Raven Whistle Cavalry, disobeying his direct superior's orders, to search for you relentlessly, sparing no effort, not even sparing the orcs."

Thales didn't react for a moment.

But he quickly realized something was wrong.

Baron Guz.

Crow-whistle light cavalry.

The familiar words made Thales look up sharply!
"Who?"

He stared intently at Cyril:
"Who are you talking about?"

But Falkenhausen just watched him with interest.

Two seconds later, the Duke, seemingly having enjoyed Thales' expression enough, slowly said:

"so……"

"Only after you and your caravan parted ways with the elusive Kandar Nushan in the desert were you able to reach the Blade Fang camp smoothly and without any obstacles."

Thales's thoughts paused for a moment.

Caravan.

Kandar Nushan.

The journey was smooth and without any obstacles...

impossible.

Thales stared blankly at the indifferent Duke:

"how do you know--"

But Thales lowered his head and stubbornly kept his next words to himself.

He remembered.

Baron Guz.

Thales subconsciously said:

"The commander I met in the desert, the one who chased the orcs with the freak squad..."

Thales looked up, staring straight at Cyril, but couldn't hide the astonishment in his voice:

"Is he yours?"

Cyril chuckled softly, confident and relaxed.

“Before being granted the title of Baron of Emore Town under the Clomar family, Van Cleef Gutz was my courtier.”

The room was silent for a few seconds.

Until Thales managed to exhale a difficult breath.

"So……"

He asked incredulously:
"So whether it was when I encountered the army in the desert or when I entered Baki's camp, you always...knew?"

and.

If that baron is one of his men, then what he overheard in my tavern...

The Duke let out an unsettling chuckle.

"More than that."

At that moment, Cyril's sinister laugh was extremely chilling:

“I know that the readily available Blade Fang camp is ominous, I know that the movements of the royal standing army must be suspicious, I know that Williams’ mercenary lackeys are restless, and I also know that the orcs that Guz encountered in the desert were no coincidence.”

The Duke's words were like a steel knife, reflecting a sharp, cold light.

what did he say?
Thales breathed heavily, his voice filled with uncertainty.

An ominous atmosphere filled the Baki camp.

The movements of the standing army.

The mercenaries and lackeys were itching to make a move.

The orcs are no coincidence.

This information, this intelligence...

This means...

Thales frowned and looked at the Duke:
"You knew everything... but you didn't show yourself, you didn't come to me, you didn't intervene in the camp's struggle, and when the Wings of Legend recaptured the camp, you didn't help the Western Wilderness lords. You just, you just..."

Cyril let out a sigh of relief:

“I simply had Guz disappear as soon as he made sure you were in the camp. I simply had the Falkenhausen family’s skull guard rotate out early, away from the center of the vortex, away from this trap.”

"Let that bastard Williams finish his hunt."

Thales couldn't help but ask:
"why?"

"Before everything began, you clearly had the intelligence and ability to turn the tide, yet you stood by and watched the conflict between the royal family and the Western Wilderness unfold, and watched your vassals suffer heavy losses?"

The Duke of the Western Wilderness smiled.

"Because this conflict was necessary, and this was the only possible outcome."

Cyril gazed at the Baki camp outside the window, seemingly lost in thought:
"The lords of the Western Wilderness lost this round, suffering losses in manpower and prestige, and were utterly humiliated; Your Majesty won this round, preserving the Blade Fang Camp and giving your opponents a warning."

"Both sides are simply back to the previous situation."

Thales had a sudden realization.

Sure enough, Cyril turned around:

"But imagine if I successfully intervened in His Majesty's opportunistic game, forced out the royal standing army, spared the lords from losses, and even helped them regain control of the western front... what consequences would then befall the Western Wilderness?"

Thales sighed.

The Duke continued:
"Are my foolish vassals content with their newfound power and know when to stop, or will they push their luck and become even more demanding?"

"And will someone like your father accept reality and give up, or will he change his opinion of me and the strength and attitude of the Western Wilderness after he has been impressed...?"

Cyril's tone became terrifying:
"Give it your all, and repay a hundredfold?"

The Duke gave a cold laugh.

"Then the question arises..."

Falkenhausen's ugly face revealed deep furrows:
"Will the Wasteland become the next Cold Fortress, or the next Dragon Sky City?"

Sometimes, doing nothing is the best option.

Thales leaned weakly against the wall.

The Duke's words were spoken softly, yet they carried a heavy weight over him.

He had just returned from the North and was used to the Northerners' style of fighting at the slightest disagreement, and their intimidation and threats that drew blood—at least for the nobility.

But after today, he suddenly understood a lot.

The Star Kingdom operates under a different set of rules.

Another kind of... shackles of power.

The prince's eyes dimmed.

"Now, is that enough to prove it?"

Cyril said coldly:
“I am neither the kind of nobleman you imagine, nor your father.”

"But in the starry arena where life and death are fought, there is a true—third party."

third party.

Thales closed his eyes tightly.

The silence lasted for almost thirty seconds.

Until Cyril slowly spoke:
“Well, Williams will probably be back from patrol soon. I don’t want to run into him—Gorgh can’t beat him.”

Thales opened his eyes and watched as the Duke bowed slightly to him:

"Pleasant conversation—you can continue your lunch now."

Thales, with mixed feelings, sighed and returned the greeting.

Boom, boom, boom.

With his fur robe billowing, the Duke of the Western Wilderness turned around with a mysterious smile and walked towards the door.

But Thales saw something.

"Your Grace, you've forgotten your sword!"

The prince frowned and pointed to the beautifully curved ancient imperial sword leaning against the wall—the Warning Sword.

thump.

The Duke's cane struck the ground with a sharp thud.

But to Thales' surprise, Cyril uttered a different word.

"No!"

The Duke of the Western Wilderness turned around and said coldly:

"You forgot your sword."

Thales was taken aback.

Cyril narrowed his eyes and pointed to the ancient imperial sword by the wall:
"From this moment on, you are the one to issue the warning."

Thales was stunned.

"Hold on tight, hold on tight to your sword."

The duke who guarded the Western Wilderness, Cyril Falkenhaus of the Four-Eyed Skull Clan, seemed to say something meaningful:
"Don't lose it."

After saying this, the Duke turned and stepped out of the room.

His last words could be heard from outside the room:
"Also, give my regards to the Cato boy—if he's still alive."

(End of this chapter)