Kingdom Bloodline

Chapter 511 King in the Mist

"This place cannot be defended."

Glov, leading his mount, stood before a wide and exquisite double iron gate, gazing at the refined garden and the central dragon-kissed fountain, and scrutinizing the three-story building with its tall colonnades ahead, his expression serious.

"Wh-what?" Doyle, the guard officer beside him who was checking the teeth of his mount, asked in confusion.

All around, the royal guards assigned to protect the prince, accompanied by the royal protocol officer and the city hall official, entered the magnificent manor in an orderly fashion, engaging in a tedious handover and explanation with the flattered local servants and guards—most of whom were private soldiers of the Starry Sky conscripted from the outskirts of the central territory.

“A complex terrain layout, cumbersome sentry posts, pointless decorations, and private soldiers recruited from other places,” Vanguard Commander Golov’s gaze swept from the gate and walls to the distant backyard garden, his vigilance growing ever stronger.

"And a labyrinthine garden even larger than the North."

Amidst the bustling atmosphere, the vanguard officer looked around, handed his mount to a subordinate of the vanguard wing, and frowned even more deeply.

“Compared to the North…” Doyle, who was beside him, spoke subconsciously, then immediately understood and smiled brightly.

"Relax, zombie. This is Mindis Hall, not Dragon Fortress."

Ignoring the Vanguard Wing Guard's expression, Doyle casually shoved the reins into the man's other hand, watching as the guard, with a disgruntled look that seemed to say, "Where did your Guard Wing members go?", led the mount away. Only then did Doyle turn back, satisfied.

"And we are not here to fight."

Golov snorted through his nose.

He glanced at the main road outside the iron gate, then at the houses at the end of the garden, his tone indifferent:
“The prince should have lived in the Palace of Restoration.”

The vanguard officer's words were long and seemingly profound.

But Doyle clicked his tongue and shook his head.

"No, no, no, although we weren't familiar with each other before, I know that you Vanguard Wing soldiers don't do much guard duty..."

Golov pursed his lips.

"The Tormund Hall where His Majesty and the Queen reside, and the Chamber of Silence, are still unclear..."

DD, with a smug look on his face, raised three fingers and bent them down one by one:

"But the Ballard Room is too narrow, the Elan Hall is too tall and cold, and the Sumerian Hall is too dark and gloomy..."

“Compared to the famous grottoes in the Palace of Rejuvenation, believe me,” Doyle gracefully gestured towards the exquisite garden before him:
You'll like it more here.

Golov narrowed his eyes.

"At least, at least the Mindis Hall has it, it has..."

Doyle paused, his finger tracing the iron gate, garden, fountain, avenue, and main hall, finally pointing to the sun overhead, and smiled faintly:
"……bright?"

Golov crossed his arms and looked away, letting out a vague hum.

Clearly not satisfied.

"Besides, do you even know how high its artistic value is?"

Doyle's eyes lit up, and he changed the subject.

Golov frowned.

Do you know its place in architectural history?

The guard turned and opened his arms, as if to embrace what was in front of him:
"Putting aside the fact that this is the famous palace of a wise ruler... just look at this garden, look at these reliefs, look at these floor tiles! Not to mention its vast collection of art treasures!"

"Just imagine, if a banquet were held here, the ladies of the capital would be scrambling to get in..."

Doyle turned around with a dance step, her face full of sweetness.

Golov remained motionless, his expression towards Doyle filled with contempt.

"what happened?"

DD shrugged, looking puzzled.
Is it wrong to love art and beauty?

Golov looked away, took a deep breath, and exhaled stiffly through his nose.

In the distance came the familiar sounds of a horse-drawn carriage and shouts, as if someone was directing the transport.

Doyle, who was immersed in art and beauty, suddenly changed his expression.

"Oh no, that's Stuart and Foby..."

He immediately rushed to Glov's side, his expression serious, his body stiff, and pointed his arm into the Mindis Hall:

"Quickly, pretend you're talking to me, discussing the defense of sentry posts or the security plan, look very focused and serious..."

Golov was completely bewildered:
"what?"

“Only in this way can we avoid being assigned to help with logistics.” Doyle’s expression remained unchanged, but his lips moved slightly.

Golov was still puzzled:
"But...why me?"

“Because he never sends the vanguard!” Doyle muttered through gritted teeth.

Surrounded by a group of officials and Star Guardians, Logistics Officer Stoddard and Standard Officer Foby passed by with several subordinates and carriages. They left Doyle with suspicious and puzzled looks, but after seeing the serious-looking Glov, they dispelled their doubts and left.

Doyle finally breathed a sigh of relief and relaxed completely.

Golov's gaze toward him grew increasingly strange.

But Doyle felt no embarrassment at all. He naturally returned to his state of blissful appreciation of the scenery. His eyes then turned and he saw a boy standing quietly by the cedar gate under the pillars of a distant building, amidst the passing figures.

Doyle squinted, scrutinizing the motionless, somewhat lonely prince—the servants and guards around him seemed to have some kind of tacit understanding, perfectly avoiding the prince while busy with their work, with the closest person being at least ten meters away.

But they would occasionally cast cautious glances at the silent boy.

"I bet that kid just got spanked."

Golov gave DD a subtle glance.

As if afraid the other party wouldn't believe him, Doyle narrowed his eyes:
"Believe me, I know how that feels. He's acting calm, but it's all an act..."

Doyle gazed intently at the prince's retreating figure, his eyes filled with melancholy and deep emotion.
"But deep down, all he wanted was to find a secluded place and have a good, cathartic cry..."

Golov looked at him, his brows furrowing deeper and deeper.

“This is none of your business,” the vanguard officer coughed sternly.
"Officer Doyle".

But Doyle gave a soft snort.

"Come on, you're not happy about that broken sword from this morning either, are you?" Doyle nudged Golov's arm, completely ignoring the other's unpleasant expression, with a hint of schadenfreude.

“I’ll bet you my entire fortune that even our esteemed Duke will have a time when he can’t lift a certain sword.”

Glov did not answer; he simply stared at the porch of Mindis Hall, his brow furrowed deeply.

There, Duke Thales stood quietly.

He simply stared at the porch, silent and motionless.

It felt as if we were isolated from our surroundings.

"are u there?"

Thales spoke in a daze:
"Did you see it?"

In response, a calm and composed voice came from behind:

"Yes, I saw it."

But it wasn't the person Thales had expected.

The boy closed his eyes and sighed softly.

"The royal guards and servants did a good job of maintaining order, which saved a lot of trouble."

“We can move in once we've completed the assessment and inspection,” Watchman Marius stepped forward, standing beside the Duke, and together they gazed at the main hall of the manor. His words were intriguing:

"Congratulations, new master of the Mindis Hall."

Mindis Hall.

New owner.

Thales did not turn around.

The boy simply observed the familiar yet unfamiliar building before him, from the pillars to the door, from the carpet to the interior.

This time, however, the familiarity seemed to outweigh the unfamiliarity.

Marius seemed to sense the atmosphere, and he too remained silent, standing quietly with the prince.

The servants and guards continued to busy themselves, coming and going in a hurry, but subconsciously kept their distance.

A few seconds later.

"You don't know."

Marius frowned slightly.

Thales, expressionless, slowly began to speak:
"You didn't know beforehand that you would be assigned here, did you?"

"Otherwise, you wouldn't need to conduct assessments and inspections only when things come to a head."

Marius was slightly taken aback.

But Duke Starlake laughed.

“You weren’t even prepared to be the Starlake Guard,” Thales said, his head bowed, a hint of loneliness in his eyes.

"Because the title of Duke of Star Lake was decided on the spot and hastily conferred after you set off."

Because of... a sword.

Marius paused for a few seconds, his eyebrows furrowing slightly, his thoughts unreadable.

Thales sighed:

"Similarly, you weren't prepared to come to... Mindis Hall either."

Marius seemed to glean something from the Duke's seemingly incoherent words, and hesitated to speak.

But Thales took a deep breath, and when he turned back, he had a smile on his face.

"Oh, and when setting up defenses, don't forget to prepare silver weapons, and perhaps even weapons that have been blessed."

Silver weapons...

The sudden shift in topic caught the Watchers off guard.
"why?"

Thales snorted, took a few steps back, and looked towards the roof and balcony of the Mindis Hall:

Beware of uninvited guests.

Under Marius's questioning gaze, the prince's tone carried a hint of nostalgia:
"Like... vampires?"

Marius was stunned again, completely bewildered.

But Thales didn't elaborate.

He simply sighed again, raised his head, and stared blankly at the pillars.

“It looks smaller,” the boy said instinctively.

“I remember that the columns here used to be very tall.”

Marius's eyes flickered as he gazed intently at the prince.

With a touch of bewilderment, Thales walked through the porch and vaguely saw three giant portraits on the wall under the chandelier, directly opposite the door.

And the three people in the painting.

One of them, with his back to the setting sun, held a gun and rode his horse, as brave as ever.

One stands firm in the deep forest, sword and shield in hand, unwavering as ever.

One sat peacefully indoors, holding a cane and turning the pages of a book, his kind demeanor unchanged.

Thales' gaze wandered as he looked at the three figures in the painting.

He subconsciously raised his right hand and pressed it against his chest.

Some part of the skin there still seemed to be throbbing slightly.

“It’s the same old place,” Marius followed behind, his tone nonchalant. “You didn’t have this expression when we saw the Palace of Restoration.”

Fuxing Palace.

Thales chuckled.

"The first time I entered the Palace of Rejuvenation, I was seriously injured in an assassination attempt and was unconscious. I was carried in."

Marius squinted.

The prince's expression was slightly sarcastic:
"Returning to this familiar place, what kind of expression do you expect me to have?"

But Marius's answer was beyond his expectations.

"laugh."

Thales frowned:
"what?"

Marius stepped forward and stood with him before the cedarwood door, gazing at the portraits of the Three Kings on the wall inside the hall:
You need to smile.

“That way they won’t suspect that your father doesn’t like you,” Marius said, his eyes narrowing slightly.

"Or the other way around."

Thales paused for a moment, then looked on in astonishment:
"Them?" Marius remained calm, nodding without even glancing at the Duke.
"The royal guards are all elites, and they have a very keen sense of smell."

Thales turned around instinctively.

Around him, the members of the royal guard were still busy with their own tasks, some directing logistics, some handing over duties to servants, and some assigning tasks...

Can't see anything strange.

Thales was silent for a moment, then suddenly chuckled.

"do you know."

“I have a friend who also advised me: laugh.”

Marius looked at the prince, who took a deep breath, gazed at the sky, and said with a sigh:
"Because life is already heavy enough."

"You have to laugh to make it feel lighter."

The boy looked slightly bewildered, as if he were seeing that expanse of yellow sand again.

"So, does it exist?"

Marius stared at the bewildered Thales and suddenly spoke:
"After you finished laughing?"

Thales snapped out of his daze and shook his head.

"I don't know," the boy said with a somewhat strained smile.

"Hopefully."

The prince turned around and was about to walk into the porch.

“This place, this manor,” Marius spoke again, causing Thales to slow his pace:
Do you know why it's called that?

This place?
Why is it called this name?

Thales stopped and glanced around.

The prince gestured towards the portrait on the far right of the opposite wall:
"he?"

In the painting, a middle-aged man with graying hair smiles kindly at him.

Marius shook his head.

"Do not."

The Watcher crossed his arms, his gaze towards the hall now carrying a hint of respect:
"Although it is true that King Mindis III lived here more than a hundred years ago, and most people believe it was him... but no, Mindis Hall is not named after the wise king."

Not the name of a wise ruler?
This piqued the boy's interest.

“Very good,” Thales turned around with interest:
"Please enlighten me, my... captain of the personal guard?"

Marius ignored the subtle unease in Thales's tone. He turned and looked towards the Palace of Restoration, his gaze deep and thoughtful.
"In the year 333 of the Ending Calendar, the twenty-first Supreme King was crowned, and his name appeared for the first time in the royal genealogy of the stars."

Thales raised an eyebrow: The...which one? Twenty-one?

That is……

"The king was young but frail and sickly, so he had to move out of the palace to find a place to recuperate, entrusting the affairs of state to his uncle and the royal council."

Marius spoke calmly, just like his indifferent expression, but the story he told was not necessarily delightful:
"In just one year, the young king unfortunately died of illness, leaving no heirs."

The Watcher stomped on the paving stones beneath his feet:
"After that, the suburban manor where he died was named after him in his memory."

Marius looked at the prince indifferently.

Entrusting state affairs to his uncle, he left the palace to recuperate...

My nephew died young; I'll leave my name in his memory...

This story is short, has no plot, and is not very auspicious.

The charm behind it is even somewhat... indescribable.

But Thales still had an "I see" look on his face.

“So, um, the suburban manor,” Thales gestured around, trying to continue:

"You call Twilight Star District the 'suburbs'?"

Marius frowned slightly, clearly dissatisfied with the prince's focus on the key point: "It used to be."

“I call this ‘urban sprawl’.”

Thales raised an eyebrow:
"Oh."

“However, three and a half centuries have passed, and as we stand here, recalling the original owners of Mindis Hall,” the Watchman chuckled, his gaze towards Thales carrying a meaningful undertone:

Even the direct descendants of the Starry Sky no longer know about the 'Mist King'.

Thales was somewhat embarrassed:
"I, uh..."

But he quickly noticed the title Marius had used:
"The Mist King?"

Marius nodded.

He reached out and knocked on the expensive cedar door, his voice deep and resonant:
"Whether in life or after death, the young and untimely Mindis I was known as the 'King of the Mist'."

"During his lifetime, his rule was like a fog, seemingly tangible but actually devoid of substance."

"His story, written after his death, is like a mist, coming and going in a hurry, and disappearing quietly."

Suddenly, Marius's eyes sharpened:
"Nobody remembers."

"Nobody cares."

Thales instinctively stiffened.

"So take good care of yourself, especially when the whole guard is around."

Marius's gaze returned to Thales, startling the latter, who had been feeling somewhat dejected and dejected:
"No matter what you've been through..."

The watchman's tone turned cold:

"You should know that among the many inconspicuous and forgotten masters of the Mindis Hall, being sickly and miserable is not your exclusive privilege."

Sick and miserable.

Thales swallowed hard and rubbed his face.

"But just like the King of the Mist..."

The Watcher simply snorted coldly:
"Nobody will remember."

Marius looked towards the Palace of Restoration, his eyes unfocused.

"And nobody will care."

silence.

It must be said that Thales was somewhat embarrassed at that moment when someone pointed out his worries and problems.

After a long while, the young Duke of Starlake forced himself to let out a dry laugh:
"Thank you for your encouragement."

Lord Marius.

Although it wasn't exactly inspiring.

But the Watcher didn't respond to his thanks, only giving him a dismissive glance:
"I will let you know when the room upstairs is ready."

"Your Excellency the Duke."

After Marius finished speaking, he strode into the Mindis Hall.

Thales watched his retreating figure, feeling both embarrassed and thoughtful.

"That Uncle Wang."

The boy suddenly spoke.

Beneath the portrait of the Restored King, Marius's silhouette paused slightly.

"The Mist King's...uncle who acts as regent."

Thales's eyes were burning:
Did he succeed to the throne after the death of Mindis I?

The watchman's figure remained still for a few seconds.

"of course."

Marius turned around, his expression profound:

"Sume Canxing, who acted as regent, eventually inherited the throne from his nephew who died young and had no children."

"That is, Sumerian III, the 'jackal' in history."

Thales let out a breath, understanding dawning on him.

But Marius's words were not yet finished:

"by……"

"...the Duke of Star Lake."

Thales was startled.

But before he could ask any further questions, the Watchman turned and walked away without looking back.

They disappeared up the stairs.

Thales was left alone, pondering the meaning of the story.

A few seconds later, the prince smiled with relief.

Interesting.

Whether it was the master of Mindis Hall or the Duke of Starlake, the stories of his predecessors were all so...

That's intriguing.

Thales glanced one last time in the direction where Marius had disappeared, then turned and left the porch, heading towards the garden. As he waited, he put on a smile and surveyed the busy crowd around him.

He suddenly noticed that among the servants and private soldiers coming and going, two figures stood out from the crowd. One was relaxed, while the other stood by the pool with a serious expression, discussing something in a seemingly earnest manner.

Thales recognized the two men and slowly walked toward them.

"You didn't want to come in the first place, did you?"

Beside the fountain, Doyle squinted at the maids in the distance:

“You know, the Glov family is one of the best of the ‘Seven’, the backbone of the royalist party, and has been trusted and held high positions for generations.”

Beside him, Golov frowned deeply.

“Your father is the predecessor of Minister Joker Mann, and your brother is in the Treasury Department with a bright future.”

Doyle's attention remained on the maids, not even glancing at Golov, as he narrated and sighed:
"His Majesty is also ambitious and energetic, and is in the prime of his life."

"But here you are, trying to get involved in this unfortunate mess."

Doyle turned his head and stared at Golov with curiosity.

"why?"

But this time, it seems he's biting off more than he can chew.

Golov turned his head as well, staring coldly at the other person.

It was like staring at a piece of rotten meat on a butcher's stall.

The silence lasted for a long time.

After a while, DD, receiving no response, could only smile awkwardly and turn away.

"Okay, it's fine if you don't want to talk about it."

"But I'm different."

Doyle gave a perfect smile to the maid who finally couldn't stand his gaze and was peeking in their direction:

“During the years when our family was at its peak, Doyle got too close to the old elites, and the relationships became so complicated that for the next three generations, no one was able to be trusted by the Restoration Palace.”

Golov didn't speak, but he looked away.

Doyle stared at the blushing maid turning her head away beneath the wall, his gaze somewhat fixed.
“They worried that if things continued like this, their family’s position among the ‘Seven Servants’ would be in jeopardy sooner or later—just like, just like Tardin, who had been in decline for many years, Belletti, and…”

Doyle paused, nodded towards the direction of Mindis Hall, and sighed:
"Marius."

Golov didn't speak, as if he hadn't heard.

"So I was forced to come here."

Doyle raised an eyebrow:
“My father had a very beautiful idea: from the king’s guard to the prince’s guard, and maybe in the end back to the king’s guard, and finally…”

DD's face darkened slightly:
"Of course, that's just... wishful thinking."

Golov's eyes flickered slightly.

"After all, we've moved beyond the days of living off the size of our fiefdoms," Doyle sighed softly, his expression resigned and his tone meaningful.

"We are neither one of the six great families nor one of the thirteen noble clans."

Standing motionless before Golov, Doyle said quietly:
"We are merely... servants of the Starry Sky."

(End of this chapter)