Kingdom Bloodline

Chapter 520 More Than Just the Power of Termination
“My name is Leo Piloga, Your Excellency the Duke.”

The guard who stepped out of the ranks appeared to be in his forties, sporting a rather comical mustache. He respectfully saluted Thales.
"In your guard, I am a lowly and unremarkable logistics officer."

"It's an honor to serve you as my sparring partner."

Thales did not answer immediately.

He continued to stare at Marios on the sidelines with suspicion.

Piroga didn't mind. He carefully picked out a suitable practice sword from the sword rack, tried it on his gloves, and poked the sand to confirm that it was a blunt sword that hadn't been sharpened.

"As expected of a prince, he's willing to go to such lengths to figure out the power of termination..."

Doyle glanced at his fellow guards standing around him, some looking puzzled, others solemn, and then cast an envious and jealous look at the prince who was standing there in a daze:

"When I awakened the power of ending, the old knight I served was completely unaware. That day, he still fucked me until I was exhausted, lying on the ground groaning..."

"It wasn't until a year later that he realized his servant's martial arts skills had greatly improved, and he could now fight him to a standstill..."

Grover, standing beside him, remained silent, simply watching the game.

Doyle was used to the other person's indifference and could only sigh silently:

"Fortunately, at least Marius knew that the prince was still inexperienced, so he only picked the logistics wing personnel to fight—Piloga's skills were average."

Golov stared at Piloga, who had just finished a simple warm-up, and frowned slightly.

Thales took a deep breath, turning to the relaxed-looking Marius while trying to ignore the stares of the entire Star Lake Guard:

"What...what should I do?"

Marius's smile remained unchanged:
"Attack, Your Highness, unleash your full power—especially the power of termination that you do not understand, whether it arises on its own or is triggered by a specific time."

"That way, we will have the opportunity to understand its types and general characteristics."

"Let us also see your capabilities - so that we can arrange security in the future."

Give it your all?

Thales let out a breath, feeling reluctant.

Can he say no?
However, the royal guards watching the battle all focused their attention on him, though their gazes varied.

Long ago, Black Sword warned him that it was best not to use the River of Sin again, as they could not always afford to die.

While at Baki's camp, Ricky told him to go and raise the Sin of the River of Hell, expecting him to reach a level where he could "push open that door."

Who is right and who is wrong?
What secrets lie behind the crime of the River of Prisons?
The key is……

Would the Kingdom's Secret Service, or even the one in the Palace of Restoration, be interested in this secret?

How does it compare to magic power, to calamity?

Recalling the scene of Sacel chasing him, Thales couldn't help but swallow.

No.

Thales made up his mind.

Duke Starlake raised his head and looked directly at his opponent.

They cannot know.

“Your Highness, please don’t be so formal,” Piroga said, already standing in the training ground with his sword tip pointing to the ground, as respectful as ever.
"You don't need to worry about me -- this is my job."

Thales nodded expressionlessly.

We cannot know.

Under everyone's watchful eyes, the prince grabbed a shield from the armory and strapped it tightly to his left arm with a leather belt.
No.

Thales slowly walked to the center of the field.

He glanced one last time at Marius, who stood by with his arms crossed, seemingly unperturbed, but whose eyes were bright and alert.

"Please go first." Piloga nodded slightly.

The boy's expression turned solemn.

The guards around him also became serious, and all eyes were focused on the prince.

Beyond a glamorous appearance and eloquence, this is what many people care about more.

The next second, Thales charged forward and, in his most familiar stance, slashed at Piloga with his first sword strike.

Piloga remained calm and unhurried, simply stepping back and deftly deflecting Thales' attack with a flick of his sword.

But the boy didn't stop, and swung the shield in his left hand.

He crashed hard into Piroga!
"It's definitely the style of someone from the North."

Doyle, watching the match, snorted lightly, with a hint of disdain:

"Even more radical and suicidal than the 'offensive and defensive factions'..."

But Golov unexpectedly spoke up.

"Do not."

The burly vanguard officer watched Thales' movements intently:

"This is the swordsmanship of the ancient northern army."

"The current Exter... is no longer this style."

Doyle, interrupted, froze for a moment.

He gave an awkward and forced smile.

Pshaw, you've got a very logical and well-reasoned explanation.

Northern military swordsmanship...

Doyle pouted, glaring resentfully at the two men in the arena:

Do you think I can't see it?
In the middle of the field, Thales' shield collided with Piloga, producing a dull thud.

But the boy's expression changed.

It didn't hit the target.

The next second, Piroga braced himself against Thales' shield with one hand and spun to Thales' opposite side.

Snapped!
Thales' left leg jerked!
The prince swung his sword to retaliate, but the sword whistled through the air, and Piloga had already retreated.

The royal guards murmured amongst themselves.

Thales gritted his teeth and turned around, his left leg slightly unsteady.

Although the practice swords in the Mindis Hall were not sharpened, their balance, center of gravity, material, and weight were in no way inferior to real swords.

Although it was just a glancing blow, the kick Piloga gave him to his left leg still stung painfully.

Thales looked at Piloga, who was nodding politely, with surprise and resentment.

No.

"A flash of sword light, and whoosh, the prince fell to the ground."

"The victory has been decided."

Golov and several guards nearby turned their heads in surprise.

Doyle, standing on the sidelines, lowered his voice and spoke earnestly and passionately:
"The prince lay in a pool of blood, his face deathly pale, trembling as he clutched his injured leg and wailed, 'No, I cannot lose, the Star Kingdom cannot be without me…'"

More and more people are turning back, including Deputy Prisoner Gray Parsons.

His expression was gloomy and dissatisfied.

Under their gaze, Doyle's expression froze.

"That...a little bit of writing, literary embellishment."

DD shut his mouth, gave an awkward and ingratiating smile, and waved his hand unnaturally:
"Hehe, this won't happen again, this won't happen again..."

Only then did everyone turn around.

Thales was breathing rapidly.

He stared intently at the respectful royal guard logistics officer in front of him, his opponent, Piloga.

The other person was clearly experienced and used precise pressure; the pain only appeared on the skin and dissipated in a short while.

but……

Thales pressed his left leg indignantly.

"It seems you don't understand the significance of this lesson, Your Highness?"

Marius's words rang out at just the right time, his voice as usual, his tone calm:

"Although we are not as superstitious about force as the Yankees..."

"But is a prince who is rumored to be bad at martial arts and unable to handle swords the future of the Star Kingdom?"

Thales' grip on the sword hilt tightened involuntarily.

Damn.

"This is bad, Your Highness."

Marius's expression was slightly cold.

"Not good."

Upon hearing this, the royal guards' gazes towards Thales changed.

“Either go all out,” Marius’s words echoed in his ears:

"Or, we could just not touch that sword in the first place."

"To be a prince who is safe and sound in a carriage."

Damn!

The prince's brow furrowed more and more.

Damn Marius.

What grudge does this guy hold against me?
And he just so happens to be my personal guard captain—for the sake of the sunset, what kind of international joke is this!

Under the gaze of dozens of pairs of eyes, Thales regulated his breathing and stepped on his left leg.

He stared at Piloga in front of him, knowing that in front of the Star Lake Guard and under Marius's words, he had to produce something.

Otherwise, it wouldn't just be the Fuxing Palace...

Even the Mindis Hall...

Thales shook his head, clearing his mind of distractions and shifting his attention to his opponent.

Piroga moves swiftly and wields his sword with great agility, possessing his own methods for dealing with frontal assaults.

Then...

At his master's call, the sins of the Hell River rose from his body.

Thales stared intently at Piloga, feeling power slowly filling his body.

Use the twist of fate to feign an attack and lure him into losing his position, then deliver the decisive blow.
Or use the finishing power of the Fire Knight to enhance the physical contact and the hardness of the attack?
If all else fails... try using Sacel's style, his Chaos Army, try to observe Piloga's movements, and turn that into your own advantage.

Thales was thinking hard.

No, Thales.

The prince shook his head inwardly.

It shouldn't be too obvious.

Otherwise, how should we explain the twists of fate, the chaotic army, and the fiery knight's explosive power of ending...?

Did they infect me?
Moreover, the crime of the prison river sometimes...

Thales recalled the training sessions at Valhalla.

Sometimes, I can't control myself.

Thales took a deep breath and made up his mind.

He only needs the most basic physical enhancement, preferably without any element of ultimate power.

The sins of the River of Hell spread methodically up his legs, arms, and fingers.

Thales closed his eyes, letting the power slowly envelop his entire body.

Piroga squinted, staring at the prince with a puzzled look.

Amidst the whispers of the royal guards, Marius, who had been keeping a close eye on Thales, subtly changed his expression.

This is……

Within Thales' body, the Sin of the Hell River, like a beast long unleashed, began to stride forward with a low roar.

All it takes is some power, some speed, some precision, some control...

The prince tried his best to suppress the fighting spirit and impulse that arose within him, while simultaneously stabilizing his mind and body.

As long as it's somewhere that won't arouse suspicion.

The sins of the River of Hell surged fiercely and resentfully through his body, like a wild beast scratching at its cage. But the cage's master's will was so firm that the beast could only follow Thales's call and go where it was meant to go.

Make it more even, more balanced, and more comprehensive.

As long as he...

Thales gently opened his eyes.

Let him... The next moment, the sand behind Thales' boot trembled and exploded!
Amidst gasps from the audience, the boy shot forward like an arrow released from a bow, or a flood bursting its banks, instantly darting several feet away.

He appeared before the shocked Piloga!
Marius's eyes lit up.

Yes, that's exactly what I wanted.

The Little Prince.

Thales gritted his teeth, the Sin of the River of Hell raging and roaring within him.

Footsteps, shoulders, arms, sword tip.

The four points of his body are aligned in a straight line, focusing out the most surging force.

It eventually transformed into a flash of sword light.

Strike straight for the opponent's vital points in the chest and abdomen!
In that instant, it was as if time slowed down.

"I—" Doyle reached out to block the flying sand and opened his mouth in shock, but could only utter a lonely syllable in this stunningly fleeting sword strike.

Golov only managed to furrow his brow halfway.

The expressions on the royal guards' faces froze, shifting in that instant from surprise to doubt and solemnity.

But Thales, who was experienced, knew that this was just an illusion caused by his increased speed.

And next.

Thales's gaze met the tip of his sword.

Directly at the opponent.

Before his eyes, in the slowed-down time, Piroga opened his mouth in astonishment and slowly, at the fastest speed he could manage, raised his arm and swung his sword.

They attempted to resist the prince's attack.

To withstand this terrifying attack, which is on a whole new level in terms of speed, explosiveness, power, and precision.

But Thales knew it was too late.

Piloga was caught off guard and didn't even have time to complete a blocking motion.

Even the Meteorite was caught off guard and suffered a blow from his sword, leaving a scar on his face.

As for Piloga...

He couldn't get out of the way.

It's even more unstoppable.

In the yearning and roar of the River of Sin, Thales's sword and Piloga's sword lightly touched in the air, sparks flying from the rough surface of the practice sword.

It also emitted a tremendous force.

Thales's gaze cooled as he watched his sword slide past Piloga's parry, aiming straight for his chest.

Sorry, logistics officer.

Thales thought coldly: You need to take a few days off.

one strike.

To subdue the enemy.

boom!
The deafening roar of the weapons clashing echoed outwards, shaking the entire courtyard!
It was as if even the air itself was affected.

Many members of the royal guard felt a jolt of fear and instinctively retreated.

Time has finally returned to normal.

thump!
There was a muffled sound.

Thales flew to the side and rear.

He fell heavily to the ground, rolling backward several times.

"--Damn it!" Doyle finally managed to utter his pitiful second syllable, his face still showing shock.

He lowered his arm, blinked, and looked towards the field.

Beside Doyle, Golov remained motionless, his eyes fixed on Thales' shield.

With his muscles numb and aching, the prince took a difficult breath and shakily raised the shield in his left hand.

Sometime later, the shield had cracked:

Centered on a dent the size of a sword tip, the area is surrounded by cracks.

At that moment, Thales' mind went blank.

how……

He stared blankly up at the sky.

Piroga stood unharmed opposite him, effortlessly and smoothly sheathing his longsword.

In mid-air, the prince's weapon, the practice sword that had once unleashed a terrifying attack, spun around a few times in vain.

Finally, it fell helplessly.

It slanted into the sand at his feet.

like a statue.

Return to silence.

"Wow……"

The royal guards erupted in a commotion, creating quite a stir.

"I'm so sorry, Your Highness," Piloga sheathed his sword, trying his best to suppress his panic, and hurriedly came to help him up while apologizing anxiously:
"It was my mistake."

"Are you hurt anywhere...?"

Just now.

"Logistics officer, Leo Piloga."

A calm and indifferent voice rang out, yet it carried an inexplicable chill.

Piloga was about to help Thales up when he froze in place.

"Royal Guard Watchman, Marius's voice rang out clearly in the crowd."

"As members of the royal guard, even in times of peace, even if we're just sparring partners..."

Marius remained with his arms crossed, glancing at Piloga.

"Your skills..."

Marius didn't even glance at Thales, who lay on the ground, disheveled and panting in shock. He simply stared coldly at Piloga, whose face was filled with shame.

"It has regressed too much."

His words were harsh, and his tone was cold.

The royal guards fell silent.

Piroga was slightly taken aback, and a look of shame appeared on his face.

He nervously glanced at the prince and then at his superior, hesitant to speak, at a loss for what to do.

Thales remained lying on the ground, breathing in a daze.

how come……

how……

The Sin of the River of Prisons...

I clearly already, already...

How come...

He felt his left arm gradually recovering from the numbness, and he also felt the gazes quietly coming from all around him. He felt a mix of emotions.

The entire training ground fell silent.

The royal guards exchanged glances, and hushed whispers occasionally broke out.

Doyle tugged at Largolov's sleeve, but the latter seemed lost in thought and did not react.

"As for you, Your Highness Thales."

Marius spoke again.

The royal guards fell silent, and Piloga abruptly stopped in his tracks as he tried to help the prince.

The Watcher slowly turned around and casually glanced at Thales on the ground.

"Having seen your performance, I believe you now know what the power of termination is."

Marius chuckled, a hint of disdain in his eyes: "But a fight?"

"It's far more than just the power to end things."

The next second, the Watcher didn't even glance at the noble prince, and turned away on his own.

"Alright, everyone, the performance is over."

Marius took a step forward and said lightly:

"Disband."

Watching Marius's retreating figure, the royal guards looked at each other.

A few seconds later, dozens of people scattered in a panic.

"Did you figure out what the prince's ultimate power is?"

Doyle glanced furtively at Thales, who lay on the ground, his expression gloomy and panting in a daze. He felt a moment of pity for the poor prince, then turned and said, "I certainly didn't see anything. He seemed too weak..."

“No,” Golov frowned.

"It's not weakness..."

"Hey, zombie, how many times has this happened? Can't you just agree to it once..."

Just then, a distinctly different, weak but hoarse voice rang out.

"Wait a moment."

The scattered royal guards fell silent and turned around.

In the center of the training field, the disheveled boy, supporting himself on the sand, staggered but determinedly got to his feet.

Marius stopped in his tracks.

"He just...hit me..." The boy lowered his head, trembling as he raised his left arm, struggling to breathe to ease the tightness in his chest.

"Shield."

Doyle's eyes widened, and Golov's gaze grew sharper.

Piroga, who was serving as a sparring partner, stood in the middle of the field, bewildered and at a loss for words.

"Not... vital points."

Thales took a deep breath, enduring the stiffness and pain in his muscles after the heavy blow, and touched the straps securing the shield.

Within him, the sins of the River of Hell, which had been shattered, surged forth once more from their dormancy.

With the fierce, resentful glint of a beast licking its wounds, they climbed step by step, emitting muffled, explosive sounds.

Thales trembled as he pulled out his right hand and loosened the bandages.

Let the shattered shield fall freely to the ground.

"I……"

The boy swallowed hard, his saliva tasting of blood and salt, and gripped the practice sword at his feet with trembling hands.

"I……"

The sins of the River of Hell surged up his arms.

"I still……"

The next moment, Thales steadied his breathing, gritted his teeth, and drew his longsword!

The boy stared intently at Marius's retreating figure:

"...We didn't lose."

The royal guards were in uproar again.

People cast bewildered glances at the prince, and whispered amongst themselves.

Many people also glanced quietly at their superiors.

We await his response.

One second, two seconds.

Marius remained silent and did not turn around.

He simply turned his neck slowly, turned his head, and glanced sideways at Thales.

The watchman's lips curled into a smile.

It evokes a cold and mysterious feeling...

smile.

(End of this chapter)