Kingdom Bloodline

Chapter 499 I Came for Peace
The next morning, on the flat and wide Avenue of Grace, the prince's escort was more than twice as long because of the addition of soldiers from the Bozdorf family.

"Please disregard Count Bozdorf's attitude," Deler said, riding alongside Thales.
"He was one of the people who spearheaded the recapture of the Baki camp, and he was very unhappy with what had happened in the past few days, so he showed his dissatisfaction on his face."

Not happy?
Thales thought to himself.

Is it reflected on the face?
Dude, you probably haven't interacted with northerners before—when they're unhappy, they usually express it with their swords.

That's the only way he can make fun of himself.

“Please don’t take your anger out on Paul,” Earl of Wingburg turned to look at Paul Bozdorf, who was a few steps behind them and was taciturn. “He must have had a tough time with such a strong and aggressive father.”

Thales smiled and nodded, but sighed inwardly.

Speaking of which, what a domineering and aggressive father…

Well, he certainly understands that.

“At least,” Deler turned back to look at the horse behind him, at the flamboyant nine-pointed star banner that had been rolled up and tightly packed away the moment Earl Black Lion disappeared, and sighed:
“At least Paul is easier to talk to than his father.”

The two were silent for a while.

But the next second, Thales suddenly spoke up:

"So, what Count Bozdorf said about the Duke of the Western Wilderness being 'the same to everyone'..."

"is that true?"

As if someone had blown out a lamp, the atmosphere between the prince and the count suddenly darkened.

Amidst the sounds of hooves and shouts, Deler remained silent for a long time before slowly speaking.

"Let me put it this way, Your Highness."

"Within the Star Kingdom, compared to the once united Northern Territory, the monolithic Clifflands, and the Blade's Edge Territory with which we shared hardships, the local politics of the Western Wilderness... are somewhat complicated."

complex.

Thales pondered silently.

A few seconds later, as if struck by a thought, the prince spoke softly:
"Vote count".

Deleuze, who was about to continue explaining, was taken aback:
"what?"

Thales was lost in thought when he said:

"Although it was just a joke yesterday, I've remembered it now."

The prince spoke slowly:

"At the national conference six years ago, when the six great families and thirteen noble clans voted on whether to recognize my identity, in the North, the Clifflands, and the Blade's Edge Territory, every earl's vote was entirely in line with their duke's wishes."

"But only in the Western Wilderness, only with your three votes..."

"You and Count Bozdorf both voted against it."

"But Duke Falkenhausen voted in favor."

Upon hearing his words, Deleuze Klöma's expression changed.

The young Earl of Wingburg coughed, somewhat embarrassed.

"We were forced to do so by circumstances back then, and I hope you won't hold any grudges."

Thales looked at his expression and smiled wryly:
"of course not."

"I just... understood something."

The prince stared straight at the Earl of Wingburg.

"In the high nobility council of that year, the decisions of the three families of the Western Wilderness on the nineteen stone seats... were not consistent."

Deleuze's expression grew increasingly grim.

Their group turned a corner, and Thales' thoughts drifted back to the past.

At the national council meeting that year, the final vote on whether Thales could become the official second prince was 10 in favor, 8 against, and 1 abstention.

The pro-royalists side turned the tide of the battle by a narrow margin of one vote.

The three major families of the East Sea Territory, led by the portly Duke Cullen, unanimously voted in favor at the last minute.

But now thinking back...

Cliffland, the North, the South Coast, the Western Wilderness, the Blade's Edge, the East Sea... Thales recalled the voting results of the nineteen nobles back then and suddenly understood many things.

The prince frowned.

According to the order of voting, and the results of the votes...

Back then, the one who truly held the crucial vote, who turned the tide with every move, and who ultimately made Thales the second prince...

Not the Duke of Cullen.

After passing an intersection with varying slopes, their pace on the main road gradually increased.

"Please don't misunderstand," Deler adjusted his posture and took a deep breath before the oncoming wind picked up:

"The lords of the Western Wilderness still hold the Four-Eyed Skull Emblem in high regard."

His expression was somewhat somber.

"However, in recent years, my noble peers, especially those like Count Bozdorf, have felt that His Highness the Duke is somewhat... complacent."

Deleuze's eyes sharpened:

"Especially when it comes to matters of the royal family—especially after the Desert Wars."

"For example, the Baki camp this time."

Count Cloma carefully chose his words:
"His vassals had many complaints about his passive decision to ignore the situation beforehand and his conservative attitude in cleaning up the mess afterwards."

Thales remained silent.

Content with the status quo.

Passive decision-making.

Conservative attitude.

The second prince couldn't help but recall Cyril's words again:
[You must understand that when your vassals and subordinates are filled with fervor and high spirits, you, standing at the forefront of this tide, have few choices but to go with the flow.]

Did he say these words to anyone else?
"Do not."

As the galloping horse accelerated, Thales tightened his grip on its flanks.

He stared intently at the smooth, solid surface of Grace Avenue, watching it rush past inch by inch, and said firmly:
"Perhaps, this is the Duke's unique way of protecting the Western Wilderness."

After he said that, Deler, who was standing next to him, remained silent for a long while.

The two, each lost in their own thoughts, followed the procession silently, letting the horses gallop without uttering a sound.

A minute later, as the mounts began to slow down along with the procession, Deler sighed with emotion and looked out at the distant plains:

"It seems Cohen wasn't exaggerating."

"If I don't come to see you, I will definitely regret it."

Thales smiled, and before he could immediately express his gratitude, he didn't realize what was happening.

But a few seconds later...

"Cohen?"

Thales subconsciously looked up, slightly surprised:

"You...you know Cohen?"

"Cohen Karabyan, the big oaf?"

Count Chloe turned to look at the prince, her expression softening.

"I'm not sure when Cohen got such a unique middle name."

Deleuze's eyes darted around, revealing a mixture of nostalgia and a smile:

"However, yes, Cohen is my cousin, and we grew up together in the Vora Territory."

"His mother is my father's sister, my own aunt."

Thales did some thinking.

Cohen's mother was Deleuze's aunt...

"Karabyan and Kloma."

Twin-towered longsword and one-winged raven.

Vora Territory and Wing Fortress.

The prince suddenly realized:
"I see, your two families are related by marriage."

Earl of Wingburg smiled slightly and nodded.

"So, how did Cohen mention me to you?"

The next second, Thales suddenly noticed that Deler's expression had become somewhat stiff.

Count Cloma coughed awkwardly, and under the prince's encouraging gaze, continued speaking with difficulty.

"Six years ago, Cohen first mentioned you to me in a correspondence."

Deleuze spoke while recalling, his tone revealing a strangeness:
"Cohen said, well, he, he broke up with his girlfriend, so he took a vacation and went sightseeing up north..."

"Then, overnight, they stumbled upon a great and glorious adventure. Following a remarkably intelligent prince, they bravely stormed the Palace of Heroes, fought a night battle in Dragonfall City, defended the Hall of Heroes, fought fiercely against the Northerners, clashed with legends, and faced enemies in the extreme realms. They experienced the terror of calamity, witnessed the arrival of dragons, survived the mutiny of treacherous ministers, suffered the unforgettable betrayal of their companions, infiltrated the White Blade Guard, witnessed the assassination and change of kings, observed the Grand Duchess's ascension to the throne, bravely advanced in the north filled with powerful enemies, saved the stars from the brink of the kingdom's demise, and ultimately protected the lives of tens of millions of people..."

Thales' eyebrows twitched as he listened.

"That's the gist of the whole thing. The original text is a bit... well, wordy." The count grew more and more exasperated as he spoke.

However, even Thales could sense that the other person's excitement and eagerness made their words ramble on and on, creating a strange and awkward atmosphere that seemed to seep through the paper.

"Finally, Cohen complained that although the secret service had come to his door at night to warn him not to leak state secrets, his superiors just wouldn't believe him and refused to grant him make-up leave or reimburse his travel expenses... so he hoped I could understand him..."

Deleuze pondered for a moment:

"When I received the letter, I was still thinking, maybe he really has been single for too long, you know, it's all just wishful thinking and illusion..."

“I mean, yes, Your Highness, you are indeed young and intelligent, but… the North? Exter? So many things… I have my doubts…”

Deleuze stopped talking and stared intently at Thales:
"Until now."

Thales hesitated for a second, then forced a smile that was both polite and awkward.

Hmm, how should I put it?

Cohen.

you……

Awesome.

It's not easy to make a fake look real.

Conversely, to be like young master Karabyan, to speak the truth so naturally and effortlessly that it sounds like a lie...

It really tests one's skills.

After a long pause, Thales forced his fake smile back into his muscles and coughed:
"Um, how is Cohen?"

Deleuze smiled:
I think so.

"He is still in the guard post in the capital, doing a job that most nobles cannot understand, including my aunt and uncle."

Deleuze shrugged helplessly.

“You know, they’ve been worried about his marriage for over a decade. My aunt has been afraid he’d marry his classmate, that warrior girl from the Arendt family.”

Thales shrugged.

"Miranda?"

The prince chuckled:
"Oh no, that's impossible."

Deleuze let out a breath:

"Yes, I know. Miss Arend is probably the person Cohen fears the most."

"That boy once said that he always had this illusion that he would suddenly become stupid in front of Miss Arendt."

Thales smacked his lips, recalling how Miranda and Cohen had gotten along.

Yes, that was definitely an illusion.

Because he definitely didn't suddenly become stupid.

“But more than a decade has passed, and my aunt no longer cares about all that,” Deler shook his head, a mixture of amusement and helplessness in his expression.
"Now, as long as Cohen is willing to get married, she doesn't care whether the other person is a soldier or not, as long as he is a woman."

Thales and Deler exchanged a glance and chuckled knowingly.

After a moment, Deleuze's voice lowered:
So is that true?

"Cohen said that, well, he fought the Fire Knight back and forth in Valhalla, battling for three hundred rounds with legendary anti-magic weapons flying everywhere?"

Fire Knight...

A battle of three hundred rounds...

The prince had a headache:

"Um, my attendant can testify that we did fight, but three hundred rounds..."

Thales didn't continue, but just gave an awkward smile.

Deler's eyes flickered, and he nodded knowingly.

"So, he said that he faced the Scarlet Witch, who was on par with Lord Hansen, and that in the face of her attempts to persuade him to surrender, he remained dignified and unyielding, even unto death?"

Facing the Scarlet Witch...

Unyielding and humble, unyielding even unto death...

The prince was taken aback and blinked:

"Ah, about this, well, basically it's not like the Scarlet Witch can persuade him to surrender, he just..."

This time, before Thales could say anything more, the perceptive Earl raised his eyebrows, seemingly lost in thought:
"I understand."

"He said that he faced the legendary warrior, the invincible 'Earthshaker' Kaslan, who was still sharp as ever, and fought him to the death, each blow landing squarely, at the cost of sacrificing an arm..."

Fighting to the death...

Thales gave an awkward twitch of his lips:
"Him, hehe, that one..."

Once again, while Thales was still hesitating over what phrase to use, Deleuze understandingly raised an eyebrow:
"Oh--"

Seeing the Earl's expression of sudden realization, Thales suddenly felt a pang of guilt for betraying Cohen.

its not right.

I was telling the truth!

But Deler's next words made Thales' heart sink:
"That... a giant dragon?"

Thales was silent for a moment, and old scenes flashed through his mind:

"real."

Deleuze's eyebrows twitched.

“Oh,” Count Cloma squinted, his expression rather serious.

"This explains why, six years ago that month, all the ravens passing through the north were late—the legend is true: when a dragon spreads its wings, the airspace is forbidden for a thousand miles."

Deleuze said softly:
"Then... disaster?"

This time, Thales' face was ashen, and he lowered his head.

He didn't speak, but just clenched his teeth and remained silent for a long time.

Seeing the prince's expression, Deler did not press the matter further.

“Hmph,” the count shook his head and sighed:
“You know, the first Earl of Wingburg left records of the disasters he witnessed. But for several generations in my family, they have believed that it was just the old man’s dying words.”

Deleuze remained silent for a moment.

"So, King Nuen was killed by the Calamity?"

Thales looked up, and it seemed as if he could see that dawn with its barrage of arrows again.

And that crowned, bloody head that rolled to his feet.

"Assassin's Flower, Little Saridon, Locust Blade."

The prince said steadily:

“And Chaman Rumba.”

Deleuze took a soft breath.

The air grew quiet, so quiet that the only sound was the clatter of horses' hooves.

The count slowly raised his head.

"You've gone to so much trouble, Your Highness."

“Perhaps many people don’t believe it, and even more don’t know,” Deleuze sighed softly, his eyes heavy yet incredibly serious.
"But I want to say..."

"The entire kingdom..."

"I am grateful for your kindness."

Thales gritted his teeth and forced a smile.

“Thank you,” the prince nodded stiffly.
"Count Cloma".

But Deleuze shook his head.

“Dele,” Earl of Wingburg first gave the boy a warm and friendly smile, then extended his right hand, as if this were his first formal self-introduction:
"this is my name."

Thales paused for a moment.

He gave Deleuze a deep look, then smiled. "Of course, Deleuze."

The second prince sincerely extended his right hand to shake hands with Deleuze:
"Thales".

Their eyes met in mid-air, and they nodded to each other.

Deler released the prince's right hand, but his tone suddenly changed.

“From the perspective of the Western Wilderness nobles, Thales, I know how the Restoration Palace views us, what we are facing, and I am aware of your sensitive and awkward situation.”

Deler looked intently at Thales.

Thales looked back at him seriously.

“Normally, I might say something polite, like ‘The Western Wilderness is not your enemy, and the people of the Western Wilderness are not either.’”

Deleuze sighed:

"But you are Cohen's friend."

Deleuze's expression was somewhat sad and helpless:

"But from the perspective of his cousin, from the perspective of a friend, I must remind you, Thales."

The next moment, Deleuze lowered his head slightly and spat out a few words that seemed more precious than gold and fainter than a mosquito's buzz:

"Be careful, Lord Cyril."

what?
Thales thought about the name for a moment, then frowned.

"Are you Duke Falkenberg?"

"What do you mean?"

Deleuze was silent for a few seconds before speaking in a low voice:
"His Excellency the Duke is adept at manipulating people's hearts—even those who dislike him."

Manipulating people's hearts?

Thales was stunned for a second.

The first person he thought of was the Scarlet Witch in the North.

but……

Cyril Falkenhausen?
Unpopular?
“Count Bozdorf said that the Duke is equally ambiguous with everyone, remaining neutral and never taking sides,” Deler’s expression was more serious than ever before, as if facing a formidable enemy.

"Perhaps it's because Lord Cyril, as the ruler of the Western Wilderness, wants him to think that way."

Duke of the Western Wilderness...

Do you expect him to think that way?
Thales was stunned.

Admittedly, from the very first minute of their meeting, Deleuze impressed him as cautious, thoughtful, proper, and never overstepping his bounds.

But now...

“And if Count Bozdorf doesn’t like Lord Cyril,” Deler said coldly to him:
"That's probably because the Duke doesn't want him to dislike himself."

Thales took a deep breath, seemingly in a daze:
"Then, the reason why the Duke is 'unpopular'..."

Deleuze nodded, lowered his voice, and continued the sentence:

"Because he doesn't want to be popular."

Thales stared at Deler in a daze.

He suddenly felt that the person in front of him was different.

Wait, if this is true.

The Duke of Falkenhausen also gave him that impression...

“Tales, as you may know, for historical reasons, my family has considerable expertise in the domestication of calves.”

Deleuze spoke again.

Thales tried his best to shift his attention to the present:

"Uh, is that so?"

The Earl of Wingburg said warily:

“A few months ago, His Majesty reached an agreement with the lords of the Western Wilderness. We will send troops to the Free Alliance to force Exter and thus rescue you and bring you back home.”

“Yes,” Thales answered instinctively.

Deleuze's eyes sharpened:
“In the same week that the agreement was reached with His Majesty, my shrew scouted several long-distance carrier ravens flying north across the border.”

The week the agreement was reached...

Flying north across the border...

long-distance carrier crows...

Thales frowned:
"What do you mean?"

Deleuze remained silent for a few seconds before speaking softly:
"Those cacophony crows flew extremely high, were exceptionally alert, and were adept at concealment. Even with the light cavalry of the crow scouts, they almost slipped through."

"Those are not the mail carriers who travel between two places on fixed routes, are dull-witted, and have simple training."

"Instead, they are carefully selected military intelligence ravens that are intelligent, flexible, know their way around, and obey orders. They are not easy to train and are very expensive. Only wealthy lords can afford them."

Military intelligence scouts...

The fees are quite high...

The Great Lord...

Thales's expression changed slightly.

“Thales, from the moment you escaped until your return, someone…” Deler’s tone was heavy:
"Someone leaked your information to the people of the North from the side of the stars."

"I guess that's why your journey home was full of surprises."

My information was leaked...

The journey home was full of surprises...

Thales's breath hitched for a moment.

At that moment, the figure of King Chaman suddenly appeared before him.

And the other party's abrupt visit to Dragon Sky City, just to see him, was a risky move.

No way……

The prince raised his eyes alertly:
"You mean, Duke Falkenhausen?"

Deleuze shook his head:

"Can not be sure."

“But, Thales, not everyone.”

Deller narrowed his eyes, his tone cold, causing Thales to clench his fist involuntarily:

"Not everyone in this country welcomes your return."

Just then, on the road ahead, several light cavalrymen galloped back at high speed, bringing a tense message amidst the endless dust.

"alert!"

"Sentry contact! Multiple cavalry!"

what?
Deler and Thales exchanged a glance and frowned simultaneously.

The entire "leading crow" column immediately halted its advance, with hundreds of cavalrymen reining in their horses, creating a thunderous roar and the sound of neighing horses.

Everyone sprang into action, and many of the yamen sentries rushed forward to surround the two important figures.

"Count Deleuze!"

Paul also rode up from behind, the heir to the Fortress of Heroes looking grave:
But the Earl of Wingburg remained calm:
"Don't be nervous. The scouts are all elite scouts. This is just the first message, which proves that the other party is at least several miles away."

"They will confirm their identities soon."

Their confident questions and answers, interspersed among the countless hoofbeats, reassured Thales considerably.

Soon, the second and third messages arrived, and the new information weighed even more heavily on the minds of the three nobles:

"Twenty-five riders! No flag! Unidentified! Refuse to respond!"

"Somewhere between light and heavy cavalry, well-equipped and highly skilled!"

"The high-flying crows reported back: There were more troops behind them! More cavalry and infantry! Hundreds and thousands!"

More?

Hundreds or thousands?

Thales was startled.

Deleuze and Paul exchanged a glance, their expressions growing increasingly somber.

"Who would bring an army to the prince's aid at this time?" Paul said coldly.

Do we need to focus our main forces?

“Stay calm,” Deleuze replied steadily.
"This number could also include our own Starry Sky troops."

"Let those twenty-odd riders come over first, and everything will be clear."

Our troops.

Thales pursed his lips tightly.

But he couldn't help but recall what Deleuze had just said:

Not everyone in this country will welcome your return.

Not everyone...

The prince's heart sank.

No way.

Please, he's already entered the inner continent of the stars and embarked on the Path of Grace. Let's hope nothing else goes wrong!
Normally, what Thales fears always comes true.

This time, damned fate seemed to have heard his fears once again.

A few minutes later, the sound of horses' hooves rang out, and the uninvited guests arrived before them, half-surrounded and watched by the watchful eyes of the guards on the outside.

Deleuze's crow whistle is correct.

This was a group of twenty-five cavalrymen. Their insignia and badges were covered by dust-proof cloaks common in the Western Wilderness, but one could still vaguely see that these men had strong muscles, sharp eyes, and rode tall, magnificent horses that were rare in the Western Wilderness with pure, shiny coats. Underneath their cloaks, their bodies were bulging, clearly indicating that they carried weapons.

The arrival of these cavalrymen brought the atmosphere in the prince's ranks to a fever pitch.
The other side stood silently and orderly in front of the road, coldly watching the yaks on this side.

"Who are they? Are they on our side?" Thales asked, puzzled.

Deleuze stared intently at the uninvited guests and nodded:
"We'll find out."

“Dele,” Paul frowned, looking at the group of cavalrymen who looked intimidating.

"Should I go and summon the Black Lion Infantry Regiment from the rear?"

But Earl of Wingburg simply shook his head.

The next second, Deler spurred his horse forward and raised his voice:
"Everyone knows his name!"

In a fraction of a second, a knight silently led his men out and arrived at the front of the Raven Guard.

During this journey, the group of twenty-five riders made no discordant noises.
This knight, who stood out from the crowd, had chestnut hair and a soft-featured face. Despite having stubble on his chin, he looked to be only in his thirties, not much older than Deler.

His calm, brown eyes seemed to always be serene and peaceful.

“I was hoping you might recognize me, Count Clomar, but it seems I was just being wishful,” the chestnut-haired knight stopped his mount, sighing slightly, seemingly with some regret.
“We, well, we met in the palace six years ago.”

Deleuze's brow twitched slightly.

"I don't remember meeting you."

Six years ago in the palace? Thales thought of something.

The chestnut-haired knight smiled dismissively, gesturing to a blond knight beside him, his every movement elegant and natural.
"At least you recognize Doyle, his family is related to you..."

Upon hearing this, Thales didn't react much, but Paul's expression changed:
“Doyle? Dele, that’s one of the Seven Houses…”

Deleuze shook his head coldly:

"That's just what he said; who knows if he was faking it?"

Having said that, Earl of Wingburg turned and demanded:

"Knights, what brings you here?"

The chestnut-haired knight exchanged a glance with his companions, then turned back to reply:

“We have been ordered to come to welcome and escort Prince Thales.”

“I am grateful for your help, Earl, but your mission is now complete.”

"From now on, Your Highness will be under our full control."

He remained as calm and collected as ever.

Escort me?

Or are you going to kidnap me?
The prince's eyes darted around, and he suppressed his unease, beginning to carefully examine the chestnut-haired knight.

The chestnut-haired knight rode his horse with an elegant posture and a calm expression, as if he were strolling leisurely.

strangeness……

This riding posture and equipment look familiar.

Thales wanted to call out to Yodl secretly, but he was surrounded by Raven Whistle from all sides, and Deler and Paul were nearby, making it difficult for him to find an opportunity.

hateful!

what is happening?
The next second, Count Deleuze decisively waved his right hand:
"Upper String!"

The next second, nearly a hundred elite crow-whistle soldiers from the Clomar family at the front line moved at the same time!

They all raised their crossbows and aimed at the chestnut-haired knight in front of them!

Strict and uniform, imposing and intimidating.

The knight in front of the formation's expression changed.

Seeing this sudden turn of events, Thales, who was still pondering, quickly spoke up:
"Dele?"

Before he could say anything more, the chestnut-haired knight in the formation quickly raised his hands and spoke urgently:

"Oh, peace, peace!"

The chestnut-haired knight, exposed to hundreds of arrows, quickened his pace and became slightly more serious, but his eyes remained indifferent.

"Relax, Earl, please relax—so that you may know that I have come for peace."

Although he was showing weakness by raising his hand, the knight's posture was respectful and proper, and his words were carefully chosen, making him appear neither humble nor arrogant.

As the chestnut-haired knight raised his hand, his cloak lifted slightly.

Thales looked at the silver-white armor peeking out from under the other person's cloak and still felt that it looked somewhat familiar.

But the sharp-eyed Thales also noticed that, facing hundreds of crossbows, not only did the chestnut-haired knight remain calm, but the cloaked cavalrymen around him also remained unmoved, coldly observing the Raven Whistle Light Cavalry opposite them.

It seemed commonplace.

"Coming for peace?"

Deleuze snorted coldly, unmoved:

"And what about the hundreds of soldiers hanging behind you? Did they also come for peace?"

"Behind us—" The chestnut-haired knight paused, then realized what was happening.
The knight suddenly realized, looked up at the sky, and nodded in agreement:

"Oh, right, the Clomar family, you raise crows, heaven has eyes."

Deler snorted coldly.

"so."

"Who the hell are you!"

The chestnut-haired knight let out a heavy breath.

"Alright, alright, you win, Earl. What can I do? I'm a peaceful person."

The knight smiled slightly, flicked his cloak, and his calm eyes suddenly became shrewd and sharp.

Like the strange peaks and precipitous valleys shrouded in mist, the fog suddenly dissipated.

"I am Tormond Marius."

The chestnut-haired knight had a pleasant voice, elegant in tone, and quite rhythmic:

"King of the Kingdom, Honorary Lord of the Stars, Faithful Servant of His Majesty."

Marius raised his eyes, his gaze seemingly possessing a divine quality, piercing through the crowd and landing precisely on the fourteen-year-old boy amidst the cavalry.

In that instant when they exchanged glances, Thales had a sudden realization!
He remembered.

He had indeed seen the equipment the other person was wearing before!
But it was six years ago...

exist--

Marius grinned as he looked at Thales's furrowed brow.

"Thanks to His Majesty's gracious promotion and the trust of my colleagues..."

The knight on horseback nodded slightly, his right hand pressed against his chest in a gesture of respect, his manners impeccable.
"Humble to serve as the Royal Guard of the Stars..."

Marius revealed a specially made silver armor and gleaming steel sword beneath his cloak. He bowed slightly from his mount and uttered a title that was both strange and familiar to Thales:
"Passing on the legacy of guardians."

(End of this chapter)