Kingdom Bloodline

Chapter 504 Only 1 Day Left

Chapter 504 Only One Day Left

Gilbert gave Thales a deep look.

I cannot make any hasty judgments.

Even when the two were face to face, the former foreign minister remained cautious and restrained in his choice of words:
"Perhaps they do have old grudges, perhaps they are not obedient to each other, perhaps the fact that the king's orders have not been implemented smoothly and have been greatly compromised in the Western Wilderness for many years is just an accident..."

But Gilbert squinted:

“But from the perspective of your father and your rule, Your Highness, were they in cahoots, or was it just a coincidence, or perhaps both, simply a tacit understanding…”

Does that even matter?

Thales looked astonished.

Gilbert took a deep breath, utterly serious:
"The Western Wilderness is like a rough, uneven, and inconsistently textured pancake. Sometimes it is slippery, and sometimes it is stubborn. It has hard edges that are easy to bite into, and it is also sticky and difficult to cut. Whether you chew slowly or eat heartily, it is difficult to put your mouth down, let alone digest it."

"Compared to this, whether it's Aarond risking his life in the North, Southrest where the cliffs are too steep and easily broken, or even the young and ambitious Kevin Deer on the South Coast..."

Gilbert shook his head, his apprehension and worry only growing stronger.

"So, do you understand the significance of Baron Williams?"

Thales, still not having reacted, stared at him blankly.

Gilbert chuckled softly.
"Indeed, compared to his fame that made him a legend in the desert, those who have actually been in the know know that the Wing of Legend is arrogant and conceited, difficult to get along with, has made countless enemies, and disdains to associate with others, relying on his skills."

His choice of words is precise and direct.

"Even the Fuxing Palace looks down on him. He has no respect for nobles, no regard for tradition, and can raise an army in a fit of anger or break a city in a fit of joy. He is willful and unruly, and the emperor's orders are hard to obey..."

"Naturally, we care even less about the political tricks of the mere Western Wilderness."

Thales froze.

The image of Roman coldly pulling Norb along, openly threatening to storm the Palace of Restoration, flashed through his mind.

[Next time, if they try to take my territory again and play some political game of balancing power... they can expect to come to the Palace of Restoration to confront them.]

Gilbert's tone carried a hint of disdain:
"With the support of the royal family and the army, he became even more unscrupulous: no matter how tough the Black Lion was, how cunning the Raven was, or how unpredictable the Four-Eyed Skull was, they all paled in comparison to the uncontrollable madness and ferocity of the Wing of Legends overnight after the Desert War."

Gilbert's eyes gleamed with the excitement of a fox catching its prey.
"And so, a fierce and ruthless man who didn't even respect the king took root in the complex, chaotic, and difficult-to-govern Western Wilderness..."

He didn't say anything more, but just looked at Thales with a smile.

Instead, Thales looked at him with surprise:
"So what you need is not a Western Wilderness filled with discord and entanglement, but a Western Wilderness that, under immense pressure outside the rules, is forced to unite as one?"

"So that you can hold the rope, grasp the key, and thus get rid of the caged beast once and for all?"

"And Williams, is that heavy pressure?"

Gilbert's smile remained unchanged as always in his presence.

Williams, Falkenhausen, Kloma, Bozdorf...

And now, it's Gilbert, and...

Kaiser V.

Thales slumped back in his chair, rubbing his temples in frustration, feeling like his head was about to explode.

After a while, he lowered his hand.

"But will that work?"

"Even the most radical nobles of the Western Wilderness won't surrender obediently just because there's a troublemaking madman at their doorstep. On the contrary, they'll only be angered and become even more..."

Thales couldn't find any good words, so he simply used examples to illustrate his point:
"Like this time, Gilbert, the arrogant Williams almost burned down half of the Blade Fang camp, and ruined all the supplies the Western Wilderness Lord had left here, but they..."

But at that moment, a terrible thought flashed through Thales' mind.

He continued speaking, but his pace had unconsciously slowed down:

“They…they…he…”

The prince paused in his speech.

He stared blankly at Gilbert.

“Gilbert, if the Wings of Legends is part of your plan…”

Thales looked at his former teacher in disbelief:

"So how do you expect the Western Wilderness to react?"

Gilbert realized something, and his smile gradually faded.

"Your Highness, it's getting late..." He cleared his throat.

But Thales seemed lost in his own world, gazing absently at himself as he said:

"I always thought that Baki's camp was not your target, but a decoy."

"The nobles of the Western Wilderness suffered heavy losses and had to vacate their camp; that is your achievement."

"But what if I'm wrong?"

Thales stared intently at the tattered food on his plate.

Gilbert didn't speak, but just looked at him with concern.

"What if... what if the Baki camp isn't even bait? What if it's just a gambling table with rules written on it, where the Western Wilderness nobles, who think they understand the rules, carefully place their chips?"

Thales slowly sorted out his thoughts, reasoning and narrating as he spoke, becoming increasingly alarmed:

"Until their chips are eaten by Williams, who disregards the rules—what if that's the real bait?"

"If the outcome you desire is not merely to make the Western Wilderness lords relinquish the Blade Fang Camp?"

"If what you want is precisely their counterattack after being fooled and severely damaged, forced to tear off their pride under immense pressure, and having nowhere else to turn?"

Gilbert frowned and shook his head:

"Your Highness, you're overthinking it. Why would we..."

But Thales interrupted him again.

“Gilbert”.

Thales stared blankly at the plate:

"Following you and Marius, those several thousand royal standing troops drawn from the interior, from the North, and from the Central Territory..."

"They're not going to exchange for the Blade Fang camp, nor are they here to welcome me, right?"

Gilbert forced a smile, his expression somewhat strained.

"I don't understand what you mean. Of course they've come to welcome the heir to the kingdom."

Thales continued to stare blankly at the plate, then subconsciously shook his head.
"Or they've come to fight—to confront the Western Wilderness nobles who, after a night of despair, intend to launch a counterattack."

This time, the silence around the table lasted a little longer.

Thales simply remained frozen in his seat, motionless.

Seeing the second prince's expression, Gilbert sighed heavily.
“You’re overthinking it, Your Highness. The nobles aren’t that stupid or impulsive, not even the most radical Bozdorf.”

Gilbert coughed violently:
"They have neither the confidence to defeat the legendary Wings on the battlefield nor the leverage to force the Palace of Restoration to concede and return the Baki Camp. Why would they do something so unwise?"

As soon as he finished speaking, Gilbert looked at the prince with concern.

This time, Thales stared back at him blankly.

Six years ago in Mindis Hall, compared to the unassuming Yodl and the aloof Ginny, the polite and amiable former Foreign Minister was one of the few people he trusted and admired wholeheartedly. During his six years in the North, whenever he thought of the time in Mindis Hall, he felt a clearer sense of belonging to his gradually fading hometown and way home.

But I don't know why...

Six years later in the North, after the glory of reuniting with old friends has faded...

For some reason, he felt that Gilbert's gaze had suddenly become somewhat unfamiliar.

"Yes, you are right."

Thales stared blankly at the edge of the table, speaking mechanically, as if repeating Gilbert's words:
"Even after suffering such great losses, the Western Wilderness people have no leverage. They wouldn't be so unwise as to give the royal family a reason to punish them and completely seize power from them."

The people of the Western Wilderness had no bargaining chips.

Bargaining chips.

A bargaining chip to entice the nobles of the Western Wilderness to launch a counterattack.

In that instant, he suddenly understood.

Thales raised his gaze, looked directly at Gilbert, and forced a smile:
"I'm overthinking it."

Gilbert avoided Thales's gaze, which seemed to pierce through him, and said stiffly:

"My dear sir, your dinner is getting cold, and we have a long journey ahead of us tomorrow..."

Thales' heartbeat was slow and steady.

In that instant, he felt his heart beating so slowly, so very slowly.

so slow.

"Your Highness?"

Thales woke up with a start.

He forced a smile, took a deep breath, and resumed eating.

The former foreign minister seemed to sense something, but he only hesitated and opened his mouth without saying anything.

"Why, Gilbert?"

Gilbert looked up.

Thales was seen absentmindedly cutting his food, looking dejected.
"Why would the Duke of the Western Wilderness give me a sword that is part of his family heirloom?"

"Why would the Wings of Legend be so enraged after seeing this?"

"Why did the Earl of the One-Winged Raven come in person and treat me with such courtesy as to send me on my way home?"

It's clearly a question, but it doesn't have any questioning tone.

Seeing Gilbert's speechless and hesitant expression, Thales understood something.

“About this…” Gilbert paused for a moment, then began to explain patiently and gently.

But Thales could no longer hear what he was saying.

He recalled the story the watchman had told Deleuze when he first met Marius yesterday.

And from that day on... the king's grace extended to all people, and they lived in peace and prosperity forever, happily ever after...

original……

That's more than just a story.

Thales lowered his head and stood there, stunned.

The ugly old man is right.

His father was indeed a genius.

Is not it.

just.

only……

Thales gripped the knife in his hand tightly.

"...So this is a common tactic among nobles: to curry favor and win them over."

Gilbert finished speaking kindly, pulling Thales out of his reverie.

The prince raised his head like a rusty doll and forced a smile.

"Yes."

"So soon, the entire kingdom will know that the Duke of the Western Wilderness and the returning Prince of Stars were chatting and laughing and exchanging gifts at the Blade Fang Camp."

Thales said bitterly:
"And the minor unpleasantness that occurred the night before between Baron Baki and the lords of the Western Wilderness has vanished without a trace."

"Their goal...was achieved."

He didn't ask any further questions.

Gilbert looked at Thales' bitter expression, but in the end said nothing. He just let out a breath and turned his head away.

"So do you understand now?"

The former foreign minister had his head down, his expression unclear, and his tone low:
"It would be best to return that sword."

Thales paused for a moment, his hand holding the knife still.

He took a deep breath.

The lights in the main hall dimmed.

"Do not."

“You said that at the State Affairs Conference six years ago, Gilbert.”

Thales stared intently at his plate, his heart filled with mixed emotions.

"In politics, it is not wise to eliminate opponents ruthlessly and without leaving any room for maneuver."

"Over the past six years, I have come to a deeper understanding of this principle."

Gilbert frowned.

Thales took a deep breath.

When the prince looked up, his smile had returned to its serene and natural state.

"I think I should keep it."

"If that day ever comes, I want to leave room for both sides who have nowhere to retreat."

Gilbert was slightly surprised.

“And this sword, regardless of its underlying intentions,” Thales’s eyes dimmed slightly, but he quickly regained his composure:
"At least, it has the potential to become that space."

Thales said absentmindedly:
"As long as there is a glimmer of hope, I don't want to give up."

The words fell.

The silence in the main hall lasted for a long time.

After a long while, Gilbert let out a long sigh.

“Your Highness,” the cunning fox of the stars looked at Thales with satisfaction:
"You've grown up."

Thales curled the corners of his mouth into a smile, forcing himself to stay alert:
You've said that once already.

Gilbert smiled, but it was clear his smile was somewhat forced. "Yes, Your Highness, but..."

Gilbert looked directly into Thales' eyes and sighed again:
"You've really grown up."

This time, Thales didn't argue. He just smiled again and looked back at his plate.

The two remained silent, facing each other in silence.

“Gilbert”.

Did my father ever think about this?

The prince slowly chewed on a piece of food that he himself didn't notice what it was:

"What if I die along the way?"

Gilbert's face tensed up.

"Your Highness, the entire kingdom will do everything in its power to protect your safety..."

Thales hummed in agreement, a bitter smile playing on his lips.

"Yes, you said that too."

Six years ago.

The former foreign minister was speechless.

A few seconds later, Gilbert awkwardly took over the conversation:

"This is why Yodl has been by your side all the way."

He said with difficulty:
"His Majesty is concerned for your safety, so he has dispatched his most trusted secret guards..."

“He believes Yodl can protect you, just as he believes he can protect His Majesty himself.”

After speaking, Gilbert turned his head and scanned the air beside him, as if confirming something:
"Is that right, old friend?"

But there were only two people at the dining table in the main hall.

The only sounds in the air were the clinking of knives and forks against plates.

no respond.

Gilbert's smile slowly froze.

Thales raised his eyes, looking at his former teacher with an ambiguous expression.

Gilbert let out a sigh of relief.

"Perhaps Yodl isn't here right now," the former foreign minister said with a wry smile.

"Or perhaps he just..."

Gilbert glanced around, then lowered his head in embarrassment and sighed helplessly.
"...You don't want to talk to me."

Just now.

“The latter.” A hoarse voice suddenly rang out.

The former foreign minister was taken aback.

Gilbert instinctively looked back, but all he saw was emptiness.

Thales smiled slightly.

"Ok."

Gilbert felt a pang of sympathy:

"By the way, mission accomplished, old friend."

"You have not failed His Majesty's trust and have protected his heir so that he may return safely."

Still no response.

Gilbert could only sigh and turn away dejectedly.

Thales, however, suddenly put down his knife and fork and stared into the air.

"What's wrong?" Gilbert asked with concern.

Thales didn't look at him, but simply picked up a spoon and scooped up a spoonful of beans.

"Nothing, just..."

Thales stared at the beans, a slight twitch at the corner of his mouth.

"I miss the North a little."

in particular……

While dining.

Gilbert suddenly raised his eyebrows in realization.

"As you know, for a considerable period of time after the Fortress Treaty eighteen years ago..."

The former foreign minister nodded, his voice filled with endless nostalgia.

"I think so too."

At the dining table, the old man and the young man were immersed in their own memories.

A few seconds later, Thales came to his senses and gently put down the spoonful of beans.

Grab the difficult-to-use knife and fork.

The second prince gave Gilbert a polite smile and ate a piece of meat covered in sauce with impeccable manners.

Gilbert returned his smile with a satisfied smile.

But only Thales knew.

That piece of meat has been sitting for too long.

bitter.

stiff.

----

In the dim light, Count Bozdorf stepped into the room, looking travel-worn.

A guard with a four-eyed skull emblem on his armor rushed forward, but was shoved aside without any politeness.

The guards were filled with rage and were about to draw their swords.

“It’s nothing,” a sharp, cold voice rang out in the room, causing the guard’s arm to stop abruptly.
“He can come in.”

Count Bozdorf didn't even glance at the guard who had been ordered to step back. He strode directly to the owner of the shrill voice and stared intently at the man who was eating.

“You came in without announcing yourself,” Cyril Falkenhaus swallowed a mouthful of fruit before raising his terrifying face and squinting at the visitor:
“If Gao He were here, he would have killed you on the spot.”

"Use your fists."

But his threats seemed to have no effect on the guest.

“My father respects you, Cyril,” Lewis Bozdorf, the master of the Black Lion, said in a cold voice:
"I won't."

The Duke of the Western Wilderness let out a cold laugh.

“What a coincidence, I also respect your father,” he said, turning his attention away from the plate in front of him, his tone cold.

"But not you."

Bozdov snorted angrily.

"Did you send the crows day and night to rush to the camp and take him away?"

Earl Lewis gritted his teeth, his eyes blazing with fury.
"you?"

The Duke of the Western Wilderness chuckled again, but did not reply.

But Bozdorf wasn't going to let him off so easily.

Boom!
Wearing iron gloves, his fists slammed onto Falkenhausen's dining table, causing a plate of fish to flip over and splatter juices everywhere.

The Duke of the Western Wilderness remained calm and composed, neither angry nor flustered.

He simply took out a handkerchief and wiped his face where the splatter had splashed.

Earl Black Lion bent his elbows and slowly leaned his upper body toward the Duke.

“I even prepared that kid’s family banner, a huge one,” Lewis said, his eyes sharp as knives, emphasizing each word.
"We're just waiting to 'welcome' him."

The Duke of the Western Wilderness chuckled:
"Really?"

Count Bozdorf stared intently at the seemingly indifferent Duke, then a smile crept onto his lips.

It was as if he was laughing out of anger.

“In Grace Town, that kid was right in front of me, just as close to me as I am to you now.”

"One cut is enough to slit a throat."

Bozdorf tilted his head, his eyes flashing with a fierce light, meeting the eyes of the Duke of the Western Wilderness, which were sometimes cloudy and numb, and sometimes clear and sharp.

"And he was just as self-righteous as he was six years ago, proudly showing off his ridiculous eloquence to me, completely unaware that he was only a foot away from disaster."

Falkenhausen showed no sign of being threatened; instead, he laughed out loud.
"You have to admit, that kid does have some eloquence, doesn't he?"

Bozdov seemed not to hear, gritting his teeth:

"And that damned crow, and his equally damned chicks, stood there, between me and him, within reach of my army, smiling at me like a vengeful bodyguard."

Bozdov's voice was cold, and his words were restrained:
"Because of you."

Falkenhausen's smile slowly faded, and he looked thoughtful.

"Well, Deler did a pretty good job."

"Thanks to the sunset, he's just a crow, isn't he?"

boom!
Lewis slammed his fists on the table again!

"I could have taken him down!"

This time, Count Bozdorf no longer suppressed his anger.

“You know perfectly well that my army—the Black Lion Infantry Regiment, the most skilled at breaching fortifications and capturing cities—has already arrived in Grace Town. You know perfectly well that I am far from Blade Fang's camp, far from him…”

Bozdov was furious. He took a few breaths before he could finish speaking:
"...Only one day left."

"one day."

He enunciated each word clearly.

Falkenhausen seemed to take it seriously as well, and he gave a dismissive snort:
"and then?"

Bozdorf stared intently at the Duke of the Western Wilderness.

“That’s the lifeblood of the Fuxing Palace, the foundation of their rule, and our best bargaining chip for over a decade.”

Earl Black Lion was aggressive, and the anger in his eyes was clearly visible.
“We can take back Baki’s camp and even drive that sissy away.”

"At least, let them know our stance..."

But the usually calm and collected Duke of the Western Wilderness suddenly raised his head and said decisively:

"Then the Bozdorf family of Heroes' Castle will only have one day left before their annihilation!"

His words were as sharp as a cold wind, utterly blunt.

The conversation between the two paused for a few seconds.

This time, it was Bozdov's turn to sneer.

"Do you know what happened at Baki's camp?"

"The pampered Duke?"

Earl Black Lion straightened up, putting distance between himself and the other party, but the sharpness in his eyes had only increased.

“Bailar lost its entire year’s income, much of it in debt; Emory lost their family heir; and New Concession lost its harvest manpower for this season.”

“And Toth said he would never participate in our military expeditions again.”

“Lugo even staked everything his entire tribe had on it.”

Falkenhaus turned his head away, avoiding the count's gaze.

Bozdorf's questions seemed to have been meticulously crafted:
"This is who we are."

"Does it matter whether we perish today or tomorrow?"

Falkenhausen slowly raised his head.

"Of course."

At this moment, the Duke of the Western Wilderness's eyes deepened.

"If you perish today, you will have nothing."

Falkenhausen squinted.

"Even if you perish tomorrow, at least you still have hope for tomorrow."

Lewis Bozdorf grinned, a series of sarcastic laughs.