Kingdom Bloodline

Chapter 509 Anxiety
Fuxing Palace.

Thales's memory of the palace is vague.

Long, long ago, for the beggars who made a living on the streets, the "King's House," located several blocks away at the end of the avenue, was like an unattainable legend, mysterious and majestic, hazy and profound.

They could only learn about this legendary palace, which shared the title with the King of Restoration, through the exaggerated, comical, and even distorted theatrical performances at the Temple of the Underworld, how extraordinary its origins were, how it had endured countless trials, and how it had stood firm (under the protection of the Underworld).

Or you can get a glimpse of the whole picture from the varied and often contradictory remarks of drunken patrons who are staggering around in a drunken stupor, such as, "Let me tell you, I know so-and-so, and he has a friend who works at Fuxing Palace. That place is like this..."

Or, while begging outside, one might timidly peek out from the unfamiliar yet clean streets and alleys, catching a glimpse of the enormous silhouette of the palace amidst the hurried figures of passersby, leaving behind a gasp of shock and an unbearable, envious gaze.

This feeling lasted until six years ago.

This continued until the turning point in Thales's fate.

Duke Starlake slowly closed his eyes.

but……

But even after he became a prince and the nominal heir to the palace, Thales realized that he still didn't understand the Palace of Restoration.

Six years ago, when he first entered the Fuxing Palace, he was assassinated and, while unconscious, was carried into the palace walls.

Six years ago, he left Fuxing Palace in a carriage while he was about to head north and was in a daze.

As for now...

With the guards on both sides keeping their eyes straight ahead and the orderly steps of the rear guards behind them, Thales, who had just opened his eyes, came back to his senses and realized that his group had already passed through the heavily guarded palace gates, and even waded across the wide open space between the palace walls and the inner hall, and entered the inner door of this mottled ancient hall.

Only when they relentlessly entered the narrow, deep darkness, locking the vast, high sky and the boundless horizon outside the heavy, ancient temple doors, did Thales vaguely awaken to the truth:
Six years later, when he personally stepped into this place...

In the absence of an unexpected assassination attempt or being sent abroad as a hostage...

But he still couldn't see it clearly...

The appearance of Fuxing Palace.

Leaving the streets and carpets, the feel under the boots began to become firm and crisp.

Step, step, step.

The sound of footsteps echoed in the quiet air, reaching his ears.

In the sudden dim light, the young Duke of Starlake took a deep breath, but his nostrils were filled with cold and dampness.

Stone.

Icy.

Rough.

Dim.

And... silence.

This made the Duke, who had gradually become accustomed to the dryness and scorching heat of the North, instinctively uncomfortable.

In the almost silent, dimly lit stone corridors, they walked through the interior of the Fuxing Palace, passing through one small hall after another, and climbing one stone step after another.

The few windows and lights were the only source of light that could guide them.

Thales suppressed his extraneous thoughts and, in this ancient yet tranquil and solemn palace, in this classic, understated yet tasteful stone corridor, raised his head to look at Marius's back in front of him.

The watchman, expressionless and with eyes fixed straight ahead, calmly and properly led the way.

Gilbert lagged behind Thales by a step, his footsteps softer and his pace more steady.

Meanwhile, Golov and Doyle, who were further back, remained silent, seemingly vanishing into thin air.

They seemed to have grown accustomed to the dark-toned, suffocating atmosphere of the ancient palace and found it unremarkable.

Thales could only follow silently.

The group was not alone; they passed many guards on duty, servants hurrying by, cautious officials, and well-mannered nobles along the way.

In the quiet air, these people remained silent, yet seemed to know what was going on. They all stopped respectfully and politely, stepped aside, and bowed silently but precisely to the boy in the crowd.

The newly appointed Duke of Starlake subconsciously cleared his throat, wanting to respond, but Gilbert beside him gently pressed his arm and shook his head in acknowledgment.

In the Palace of Rejuvenation, the king preferred quiet.

Thales was slightly taken aback.

Having understood what was going on, Duke Starlake could only nod slightly and smile in response to these people.

In the Hall of Heroes in Dragonsreach, wherever Prince Star went, the palace guards of the North (especially the former White Blade Guards) and the nobles of Exter always stared at him with hostile and wary eyes. Even after six years of being together day and night, those eyes had only changed from "gritting teeth" to "disdain".

But things were different inside the Palace of Rejuvenation.

Thales could sense that whether servants or guards, nobles or officials, they all had an extraordinary interest and curiosity in the newly arrived duke, but when they passed by the boy, their gazes toward the duke were respectful and cautious, polite and restrained.

When the Duke looked back at them, the latter would often immediately lower their heads or turn their eyes away, looking elsewhere.

They parted ways at the first touch, stopping just as quickly.

It seemed rather deliberate.

Like...like spying from a corner.

As if afraid of waking something.

Add to that the carefully crafted and maintained atmosphere of deathly silence and chilling stillness...

Duke Xinghu couldn't help but take another breath and slowly exhale.

For some reason, Thales always felt that the discomfort he felt from the cautious, polite, and restrained gazes in the Palace of Restoration was no less than the undisguised, hostile, and distant stares from the people of the North in Valhalla.

A sense of irritability washed over him.

There was even a moment when the boy wished the royal guards around him would move closer.

Surround him even more closely.

Block those gazes.

Ideally... everything should be separated, completely sealed off.

Just like... the thick city wall that blocks the way between Fuxing Palace and the city.

The journey, so quiet it was almost deathly still, soon came to an end.

As they climbed another step and arrived at a rather large hall, several figures suddenly appeared in front of a stone door directly in front of them.

Marius was the first to stop.

Thales, who was following behind him, took an extra step, then instinctively pulled back.

But he soon noticed that, apart from Gilbert who was still smiling, the guards behind him, including Doyle and Golover, all stood up straight and looked more solemn, like lutes with taut strings.

The figures in front of the stone gate wore similar attire and equipment to Marius and his men, but they were dressed in light leather armor suitable for indoor movement. Their faces were serious and their gazes were dignified, and they showed no intention of greeting the prince's escorts.

Just as Thales began to guess the identities of the group, a figure emerged from the group of strangers, holding a long sword at his waist, and approached them.

This was a middle-aged man who exuded both dignity and a sense of vicissitude. He was about fifty years old. His figure was slightly clumsy, but his back was slender and upright. His hair and beard were mixed with gray, but they were neatly arranged. There were deep wrinkles around his eyes, but his eyes were bright and piercing.

His attire was clearly different from the others; his equipment was exquisite and meticulous, yet his gait was incredibly steady.

The middle-aged man with gray hair and beard stopped in his tracks, not even glancing at Thales (who was already used to being the center of attention).

He simply stared straight at Marius, the leader, and slowly began to speak:
"Who is coming?"

The language is serious and the tone is cold.

Thales was taken aback and checked again to confirm that this was the Restoration Palace where his father lived.

And he really... went back to his own home?
But none of the others, including Gilbert, showed any surprise. Instead, they waited quietly and solemnly, holding their breath and not uttering a sound.

It was as if something very important was happening right before my eyes.

Marius stepped forward expressionlessly, his tone indifferent:

"Tormond Marius".

"Royal Guard Watchmen, in the name of the King, escort His Excellency the Duke of Starlake back."

The middle-aged guard, around fifty years old, glanced at Marius and nodded.

Under Thales's curious gaze, Marius calmly finished his reply, then turned his piercing gaze to the middle-aged guard before him:

Who is asking this question?

The middle-aged man remained silent for a while, still not glancing at Thales, his right hand still resting on the sword at his waist.

The other person stepped forward solemnly, with a serious demeanor.

"Fabio Adrian".

The middle-aged man named Adrian said softly:

"The Chief Commander of the Royal Guard, in the name of the King, welcomes the Duke of Starlake back."

Thales swore he could feel Doyle gasping for breath behind him.

Royal Guard.

Chief... Commander?

Thales recalled the gateway to the "Six Wings of the Guard," and Marius also remained silent for a moment before nodding to Adrian, whose hair and beard were gray but whose appearance was stern.

The next second, Adrian turned his head and looked at Thales, who was a head shorter than Marius, for the first time.

Whether influenced by the atmosphere or by the pressure of the other person's gaze, Duke Xinghu subconsciously straightened his chest and tucked in his stomach, accepting the other person's gaze.

But like everyone else, Adrian's gaze was fleeting, and he turned back to Marius.

"Sir Marius".

"You have fulfilled your duties."

Adrian said calmly:

"Is your mission over?"

Dedicated to one's duties...

The mission may end...

Thales paused, as if he suddenly remembered something.

Marius answered calmly but solemnly:
"Knight Adrian".

"Although I have performed my duties diligently."

The Watcher squinted:
"However, my sword is not broken."

Upon hearing the other's reply, Adrian nodded, his gaze softening and losing its sharpness.

"Then your mission is not yet complete."

Marius nodded slightly, a slight upturn at the corner of his mouth:
"Then my mission is not yet complete."

Thales frowned, increasingly convinced of his own memory.

Sure enough, the conversation unfolding before our eyes...

It was filled with the sense of ritual he was familiar with.

The air remained still, and the atmosphere remained serious. The Duke couldn't help but cast a questioning glance at Gilbert, but the latter simply gestured for him to calm down.

Finally, Adrian smiled.

The middle-aged commander took off his gloves and extended his hand to Marius:

"Well then, welcome back, Knight."

Marius also revealed a long-lost, faint but restrained smile, removed his gloves, and stepped forward to grasp Adrian's right hand:

"team leader."

Adrian smiled and nodded, calling out Marius's name:

"Tormond."

As Thales was speculating whether this was a tradition of the royal guard, Adrian released Marius's hand and coughed:
"Alright, the handover is complete, relax a bit."

The next second, Thales heard the royal guards behind him sigh, as if they had all breathed a sigh of relief and relaxed.

It's like the end of a leadership meeting where you have to stand still and listen attentively the whole time.

“It’s a tradition of the Royal Guard,” Gilbert said to Thales with a smile.

"Under normal circumstances it would be much simpler, but..."

The former foreign minister gestured to the duke:
"They were clearly taking this very seriously today."

Thales raised an eyebrow, neither confirming nor denying.

Adrian looked at Marius gently, as if he were looking at his own son, and patted the Watchman's arm:

“Weah and Gaitan are waiting for you in the guard room, you know…”

Adrian smiled:
"Clerical work".

Marius stopped smiling and frowned slightly.

The Watcher was silent for a moment, then turned and looked in Thales' direction, his eyes unreadable.

Duke Starlake, unaware of the situation, could only offer a polite smile.

Adrian looked at the Duke along with Marius.

The middle-aged man seemed to understand something; he smiled and gestured to Marius:

"It's ok."

"give it to me."

Marius turned around and gave Adrian a brief, indifferent glance.

“Okay,” the Watchman said calmly after a few seconds.

"I'm leaving."

Under Adrian's encouraging gaze and Thales's questioning look, Marius turned and left without hesitation, heading towards another exit of the corridor.

Doyle and Golov, who were closest to him, instinctively wanted to follow him.

But the moment they started moving.

"Not you."

Marius, turning back, frowned and stopped Doyle and Golov, who were standing there in confusion:
"You stay."

Golov nodded without hesitation and stepped back behind Thales: "Yes, sir."

Doyle blinked before being pulled back into the ranks by the standard-bearer, Fubi.

Commander Adrian smiled as he watched this scene.

Marius nodded to him, glanced at Thales, and then leisurely left.

The handover was completed and Marius' departure brought a great deal of relaxation to the entire guard, but as Adrian approached, Thales felt Doyle behind him tense up again.

Adrian stepped forward and smiled at Gilbert:

"Count Cassel".

Gilbert also smiled and stepped forward to shake his hand happily:
Lord Adrian.

Lord Adrian laughed:

"It seems I was right; you did indeed return looking refreshed."

"Thanks to you, Lord."

Gilbert turned to make way for Thales, cleared his throat, and spoke in a friendly and gentle manner.

"Your Highness, allow me to introduce you to Lord Fabio Adrian, the Chief Commander of the Royal Guard and the person in charge of the safety of the Palace of Restoration and His Majesty. He comes from the Adrian family, the head of the 'Seven Stars,' in the central territory of Swan County..."

Adrian bowed respectfully to Thales.

Thales nodded back, flattered, and suddenly understood.

really.

Fabio Adrian.

He is... the supreme commander of the entire Royal Guard at the Palace of Restoration.

Including all the 'Six Wings'... the captain of the guard.

Moreover, she is one of the Seven Star Attendants.

"As for this place..." The former foreign minister turned around, gesturing proudly towards the stone door behind Adrian:
"Welcome to the council chamber, Your Grace."

Gilbert looked at the place with deep emotion:

"This is where His Majesty usually receives envoys and foreign officials in a formal manner."

Seeing the confusion on the Duke's face, Gilbert added:
"This is a place of great importance to state affairs. As the Duke of Xinghu, you will surely become familiar with it in the future."

Thales responded politely, glancing at the stone gate.

Chamber.

Receiving envoys and foreign officials...

and many more.

Thales suddenly froze.

He looked at the stone gate guarded by the defenders behind Adrian, and something came to mind; he recognized something.

"I remember."

"The council chamber."

“I’ve been here before,” Thales said, stunned.
"I've been here once."

These words made Gilbert pause.

But Thales knew about the council chamber in the Palace of Reconstruction...

He did come.

Thales stared blankly at the stone door, imagining what it would be like when it opened.

That's right.

right here.

Six years ago, right here, he saw that arrogant Extell envoy brazenly intimidate and threaten King Kessel into making the difficult choice between war and territorial concessions.

Six years ago, right here, he saw Duke Aarond hysterically venting his anger and resentment, revealing his political conspiracy that involved two great powers and was trying to reverse the tide of events, but to no avail.

Six years ago, right here...

Thales was lost in thought. It was here that he had seen King Kessel V, with unparalleled majesty and absolute authority, wave his scepter, and amidst a tense, astonished gasp, decide the fate of the Star Kingdom's second prince for the next six years…

fate.

"Oh? Oh, I must have a bad memory." Gilbert seemed to remember something as well, his face darkened, and he awkwardly stopped the conversation.

"Your Highness, Earl."

On the other side, Adrian coughed lightly, politely and timely interrupting Gilbert and the Duke's conversation.

"Introductions and pleasantries, leaving room for another day."

"His Majesty is in the council chamber."

Adrian's smile remained unchanged as he gestured towards the stone door behind him:

"Should we not keep him waiting?"

His Majesty.

In that instant, Thales felt as if the blood in his body had frozen.

"Your Majesty? He's finished today's imperial council meeting?" Gilbert exclaimed excitedly.

"Do not."

Adrian responded politely:

"In fact, His Majesty ended the meeting early."

“He was already inquiring about the carrier ravens from the Western Wilderness yesterday.”

His Majesty.

Thales breathed in a daze.

He suddenly realized where the discomfort and lingering sense of unfamiliarity that had been tormenting him ever since he stepped into the Fuxing Palace, or even into Yongxing City, came from.

It's not the environment and decor of Fuxing Palace.

It's not the hustle and bustle of Yongxing City or the old stories.

But...

Thales' fist clenched involuntarily.

“Of course,” Gilbert said, looking at Thales with considerable excitement.
"His Majesty must also be looking forward to this moment."

Adrian did not answer, but simply gestured "please" to Thales and Gilbert and walked toward the stone door of the council chamber.

His Majesty.

Thales felt his feet moving forward, following Adrian.

Gilbert followed closely behind, never leaving her side.

One in front, one behind.

Let him...

There is nowhere to escape.

Standing guard in front of the stone gate, the royal guards, unsure of which wing they belonged to, bowed in unison and respectfully and professionally pushed open the stone gate.

It reveals its endless depths.

Only a few lights illuminated the road ahead.

Adrian stepped aside, politely gesturing for Duke Starlake to go first.

No longer one in front and one behind.

But Thales found himself wishing the other person had gone ahead of him.

but……

Then Thales saw his feet lift up, fall down, lift up again, and fall down again.

Until he passed Adrian's side, until he stepped through the heavy stone gate, until he stepped into that endless abyss.

"It wasn't you!"

Adrian's voice suddenly tightened, becoming stern and cold, a stark contrast to his usual friendliness towards the prince and count.

This made Thales instinctively stop in his tracks.

But he soon realized that Adrian wasn't talking to him.

"You stay."

The captain of the guard's voice was very deep.

Yet it carries an undeniable meaning.

"Yes...yes, Ed...Commander, sir." A few seconds later, Doyle's tense and trembling voice came from behind.

With a low, grinding sound, the heavy stone door separating the corridor from the council chamber slowly closed.

Keep Doyle's murmurs outside.

Behind them, the footsteps of Adrian and Gilbert slowly approached.

It was as if it was urging something on.

A surge of air rose from Thales' chest and was expelled through his mouth and nose.

He found himself moving forward again.

Just like six years ago, the council chamber is long and deep, and from one entrance, the other end shrinks into a small dot.

Blurry and unclear.

Once, the council chamber was lined with a dense crowd of subjects, listening to the negotiations between the stars and the dragon.

Unlike six years ago, there are fewer lights in the council chamber, and many of the windows that let in light have been closed.

It appeared even darker.

Now, the platforms on both sides are completely deserted, so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

But as he walked, Thales soon saw it.

On the other side of the line of sight, a solitary peak rises abruptly, towering above the ground and resting atop several steps...

throne.

Thales' breathing gradually tightened.

A robust yet solitary figure appears on the throne atop the steps.

The figure sat hunched over the throne, head bowed low and back hunched.

His right elbow rests on the arm of his seat, while his right hand cradles the scepter and rests on his knee.

His forehead pressed against the back of his hand, disappearing into the shadows, obscuring his face.

Thales stopped in his tracks.

He stared blankly at the figure he hadn't seen for six years.

Emotions are hard to discern.

The prince's pause forced Gilbert to stop as well, but the former foreign minister quickly recovered, raising his voice and speaking with great enthusiasm to the figure seated high on the throne:
"Your Majesty, I am honored to introduce you to the new Duke of Starlake, your..."

Boom!
The base of the scepter struck the ground lightly once, the dull sound echoing in the council hall.

This left Gilbert speechless.

Soon, a heavy, deep, and majestic voice, like a thunderclap, resounded from the throne, echoing throughout the hall—a voice that had appeared in Thales's dreams before:

“Gilbert…”

The voice on the throne paused for a moment:
"Thank you."

Compared to six years ago, the voice sounded hoarse, drawn out, and dull.

There seemed to be an indescribable fatigue.

Thales listened blankly to what the other person was saying, his gaze fixed on the figure.

Gilbert frowned and took a deep breath:

"Your Highness has had a long and arduous journey, Your Majesty. He traveled from Dragon Sky City to the desert..."

But he was interrupted again by the voice echoing from the throne and throughout the hall:
"my friend."

“I said,” the voice on the throne began steadily, but gradually became resolute and abrupt, “thank you.”

"I'll talk to you later."

Gilbert was stunned.

However, Captain Adrian understood the king's meaning.

Adrian extended his arm toward the hall door behind him, gesturing politely to Gilbert:
"Earl Cassel?"

Gilbert glanced at the shadow on the throne, then gave Thales a thoughtful look.

But he didn't say anything in the end. He just gave Duke Starlake an encouraging look, bowed, and turned away dejectedly.

Thales forced a smile and nodded, but then suddenly realized how old the former foreign minister looked from behind.

"You too."

The voice from the throne rang out again:

"Yordal".

Thales shuddered.

Gilbert's footsteps paused for a moment, then resumed their rhythm and slowly faded into the distance.

Nothing happened around us.

Lord Adrian, as if he hadn't heard this, accompanied Gilbert away.

But Thales knew that something was different in the air around him.

This made him especially apprehensive.

The footsteps grew fainter and fainter until they finally disappeared completely at the end of the hall with the sound of the stone door opening and closing.

Only Thales and the shadow on the throne remained, silently facing each other in the deathly silent hall.

"Come forward."

The boy trembled slightly.

Thales was a seasoned veteran, having seen everything from bloody battlefields to treacherous schemes, and considered himself well-informed.

But for some reason, upon hearing those words, he couldn't help but clench his fists.

Thales raised his head, staring intently at the figure on the throne, and slowly took a step forward until he could see the steps of the throne clearly.

But the figure on the throne remained blurry before his eyes, flickering back and forth in the eternal lamp behind him.

"Closer."

The shadow on the throne amplified the volume slightly.

The boy was silent for a moment, then took another step.

This time, he got close enough to see clearly the boots resting on the base of the scepter beneath the throne.

"Closer."

The voice from the throne seemed somewhat impatient; he drew out his words, causing the flame of the inextinguishable lamp to flicker slightly.

Thales took a deep breath.

And so, the prince resolutely lifted his foot and continued forward.

Until he saw that the shadow on the throne, too, was slowly moving.

Thales froze.

In the dim light, the thirty-ninth Star Supreme King, the Iron-Fisted King, Kaiser Star V, who looked more than six years older, raised his eyes from his scepter and looked directly at the prince.

Thales had to look up at him, and his breathing began to quicken involuntarily.

Uncontrollable.

Bearing the gaze he had seen so many times in his dreams, yet which always startled him awake, a name slipped from Thales's lips:

"His Majesty."

As soon as he said it, Thales subconsciously added:
"Father, father?"

The man on the throne rested his chin on his hand, his brows slightly furrowed.

He has lost weight.

This was Thales' first impression.

Although the man's body beneath his fur robe remained robust, although the scepter in his hand remained steady, and although his eyes still radiated a chilling light.

But he could tell:

King Kessel's face was much thinner, his eyes were slightly sunken, and his cheekbones were slightly raised.

More wrinkles have crept onto the king's face.

The other person's knuckles, which were gripping the scepter, were more prominent and looked rather sharp.

Compared to six years ago, the only thing that hasn't changed, or has even become more pronounced, is the silence, the dullness, the suffocating atmosphere emanating from the other person, which is as unsettling as the eve of a storm.

The silence seemed to last for quite some time, but Thales simply stared at the king, feeling unable to look away.

Finally, the king's expression changed:
"anxiety."

The voice was as it always had, steady and deep.

This was especially noticeable in the spacious and narrow council hall.

Thales snapped out of his daze and cleared his throat:
"Feel sorry?"

Six years later, King Kessel snorted softly.

"How you feel right now."

The king said slowly:
"anxiety."

anxiety?

Thales frowned, puzzled:
"I……"

But the king continued speaking to himself, completely ignoring the boy's doubts:

"Anxiety is strange."

"It is neither panic nor terror—these feelings often arise when you least expect them, leaving you helpless and at a loss."

The boy's breath hitched.

King Kessel's voice echoed in the hall, feeling as if it were pressing down from all directions, leaving no room for anything else:
"For example, you might be about to face a major test, receive a judgment, or do something significant..."

"For example, you are about to become the heir to an ancient kingdom, bearing a burden that is much heavier and more tiring than ever before."

The king let out a loud snort, which seemed to shake the entire hall:
"However, you know you are not qualified, you know you cannot handle it, you know you are destined to fail."

"At that moment, you were terrified, didn't want to face it, and just wanted to escape, regardless of everything."

"That feeling is panic, that feeling is terror."

Meeting those eyes that seemed to see right through him, Thales struggled to maintain a composed expression and demeanor.

He felt that tilting his head back was getting more and more tiring.

But it was as if some force was supporting him, preventing him from looking away, or causing him to lower his head.

King Kessel slowly exhaled:

"But once there is even a moment..."

"Just before the final moment, an opportunity, a solution, a turning point emerged."

"It makes you feel that there is still a glimmer of hope in the situation, that the consequences may be delayed, and that the trial may be postponed for a while."

"And you can delay a little longer, without having to face the ending you fear most."

King Kessel raised his chin from the back of his right hand, revealing the faint blue light of the Star Staff.

"For example, you can face that test a few days later, bear the judgment a few weeks later, and accept your unavoidable...identity a few years later."

Thales stared intently at the king's calm face, listening to his words that held profound meaning:
"That moment was nothing short of salvation."

"It's relief, numbness, the ecstasy of surviving a near-death experience, and a sense of relief."

"It makes you feel that 'the end is still far away,' and that 'there is still hope for me.'"

Upon hearing this, the boy couldn't help but tremble.

"But when all this is over, when the reprieve Heaven has given you is over," the king chuckled softly, his eyes deep, yet his face remained expressionless:

"These are the illusions that make you feel relieved."

"They will... all disappear."

Thales listened intently, his palms icy cold.

On the throne, the supreme king slowly straightened up, and in the dim light, he seemed as if dark clouds were gathering overhead:
"And those who escaped unscathed will be brought back to the forefront, along with regret and unease, self-blame and panic, thinking 'If only I had known this would happen.'"

"In the end, it becomes something we all know, yet cannot resist..."

"anxiety."

Thales looked at the king, feeling a strange emptiness in his heart.

It cannot be filled.

Meanwhile, Kessel coldly stroked the scepter in his hand, staring at the eerie blue light emanating from its tip:

"It is this vexing anxiety that will make you realize, amidst the pain of scratching your head and fidgeting, that the escape, wishful thinking, procrastination, and illusions of the past six years were all meaningless."

Six years.

Thales breathed heavily, listening intently as the king finished speaking:
"It's like a damnable but useless whip, relentlessly forcing you to face, to face those things you knew all along, those things that were bound to come, but those things you were ultimately powerless to change..."

"destiny."

I'm not in a good state, but I'll force myself to write. I'll continue writing the plot for now and come back to revise it carefully later.

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(End of this chapter)