Kingdom Bloodline

Chapter 527 Pursuing the Saint
"I do not……"

Thales had to cover his astonishment with the spilled teacup until the veiled nun next to Megan eagerly and skillfully stepped forward and, rather inconsiderately, cleaned up the mess on the table for him.

"I do not understand?"

This time, however, Meghan remained silent, observing the prince behind the desk.

This is the boy.

The boy who was crucial to the kingdom's future—maybe he's no longer a boy.

Upon hearing the word "magic," his expression showed slight surprise and doubt, unlike the shrewd and calculating old nobleman who was always polite and pretentious.

However, they were not as cautious and reserved as the newly rich in the capital, but rather ambitious.

Gilbert was caught off guard:

“High Priestess Megan! I thought today was just a theology class, and you were explaining things related to the gods to His Highness…”

"As I have said, theology has never been just about the study of God."

Megan interrupted Gilbert's protest—this seemingly intelligent fool who remained as dull and hopeless as ever—and continued to scrutinize the Duke of Thales before her.

The young duke looked somewhat thin, reminding her of the poor people huddled outside the Temple of Grace in winter, waiting for help.

But his eyes were bright, sharp, and alert.

Not only that, Meghan could also tell from other details of his demeanor, such as his natural and casual sitting posture, brisk movements, and bold and direct speech, that he was not a traditional prince of the stars.

At least it's not like the previous ones.

Meghan glanced at the prince's attire again: the colors were deep and the style conservative, but the details on the collar and cuffs featured novel shapes and were complemented by well-placed silver threads that echoed the nine-pointed star brooch.

The priestess nodded secretly.

It seems that even the royal tailors have finally figured it out and know how to reinvent styles and innovate fashion.

Well, they're probably tired of the retro and heavy trend that the nobility of Yongxing City has maintained for over a decade since the Bloodstained Year—just because the master of the Fuxing Palace prefers classic and cool colors, for many years, ordinary tailors in Wangdu who sell themselves with trendy designs and bold colors have been driven to the brink of extinction.

But Megan paused for a moment, then realized what was going on.

No, while the court tailors often let their imaginations run wild and practice their skills on the clothing designs of various noble families (while most of their foolish clients, who knew nothing about aesthetics, would only put on a convincingly amazed and appreciative face to match their exorbitant hiring fees), they had no reason, nor the courage, to experiment with fashion on the recently returned and highly anticipated second prince.

This is not a newly designed style.

Megan's heart skipped a beat.

The prince was wearing the style that the previous owner of this hall liked most more than a decade ago.

She looked back at the still-rambling foolish count, continuing to ignore his warning gaze.

From this perspective, his years of hard work in turning Fuxing Palace into his second home have been truly painstaking.

only……

Is this really useful?

Megan smiled slightly.

“You know what I’m talking about, Thales.”

She addressed the prince by his name again without a second thought, ignoring his status.

Under the gods, the soul is of equal value.

Titles are useless; piety is supreme.

Is not it?
"Not every child in this world is fortunate enough to experience disaster and confrontation with dragons."

Meghan was pleased to see the prince's expression turn serious:

"In the past few years, haven't you been troubled, curious, or sought answers about the disaster in Dragon City?"

Thales's gaze froze.

Dragon Sky City.

"When you hear rumors of catastrophes and world destruction, watch plays about the final war, read their varied descriptions, and listen to the evasive and vague explanations of noble teachers, do you really accept them all?"

magic.

Thales leaned back in his chair and frowned.

So, the "problem that has been bothering you for years" refers to this, because of my experience in Dragon City.

Not because...

Under the table, Thales squeezed his left palm, feeling the scars left from countless cuts by a dagger.

He calmed down, putting aside his nervousness and all the possibilities he had just considered:
Did the secret agents uncover suspicious clues while monitoring him? Was Ramon, the half-baked doctor, exposed? Did he leave clues while searching for books in Dragon City? Did he slip up during class with Ashida? Did the cunning little devil inadvertently leak information? Or was it even some long-lost, ugly old hag who stabbed him in the back and spread rumors?

“High Priestess Megan, you should have discussed this with me beforehand…” Gilbert’s cough suddenly stopped, replaced by a sigh.

Megan turned around gracefully.

“There’s no need to shy away from it, no need to hide it,” Sunset knew how much effort she had put in to suppress the instinctive 'idiot' and maintain her smile.
"Count Cassel".

“Talking about mages will not bring disaster, and reflecting on magic will not lead to its end.”

Her unvarnished words caused Gilbert's expression to change drastically.

"Only those who are stubborn and blindly superstitious will go down a path of no return."

Megan turned around and looked directly at Thales, whose expression was complicated:
"Precisely because of ignorance."

"And arrogance."

Thales remained silent for a long time.

Gilbert's sigh grew deeper:
“A long time ago, I explained the evil of the calamity to Your Highness…”

Meghan's tone was gentle, but her rebuttals were equally forceful:

“Count Cassel, do you really think he’s the kind of idiot who, after class and the lecture, rushes off to eat, drink, and have fun, no longer caring about what he’s learning?”

"Do you really think he'll just rest easy, become complacent and ignorant, and spend the rest of his life no longer caring about the things that once threatened his life?"

Gilbert paused slightly, his gaze and the priest's simultaneously sweeping towards the prince behind the desk.

But Thales remained silent, lost in thought.

Gilbert's tone softened slightly:
"He's still young..."

But Meghan's rebuttals became increasingly forceful:
"He's old enough."

The elder priest said coldly:
"If magic truly ignited the boy's unbridled curiosity, then there would be no need to wait until now. During those six years away from your sight, he had already indulged himself, become obsessed with it, and ignored taboos without knowing where he was going."

Gilbert glanced at the prince, his brow furrowed slightly, but he said nothing more.

Ok.

The boy, who had been lost in thought and on edge for the past few seconds, exhaled.

“Well, indeed,” the prince’s tone softened.

"I'm really curious to know."

Thales smiled slightly and said sincerely:

"Magic and... disaster?"

“Gilbert said some things a long time ago, and the Exter people’s books also mention some things, but not much.”

Gilbert's expression changed again.

“Look, Thales.”

“Your confusion is known to the gods,” Megan said, looking at him kindly and confidently.
"If you have faith, God will protect you."

The setting sun.

If you protect me...

Thales let out a sigh without any attempt to hide it:

Could you ask her to stop being such a charlatan?

Megan understood as she looked at his expression.

As expected, he, who grew up in the north, did not believe in God.

This is not surprising. Since the final war, most northerners no longer worshipped the gods once revered as orthodox by the empire, or any faith connected to them—instead, they turned to the beliefs brought by the founding king who shamelessly interbred with beasts:

Brutality and ignorance, arrogance and self-importance.

Megan pursed her lips.

Heaven knows how much the Bright Moon and the Temple of Dark Night sacrificed to survive on that land.

But that's the magic of faith, isn't it?
Just like myself many years ago, wasn't I also immersed in vanity and impulse, thinking that I understood my life and found my pursuit in this world, thus ignoring God's teachings and arrangements?

Fortunately, God is selfless and without complaint.

Only protection and tolerance.

Megan gratefully made a prayer gesture in her unseen sleeve so that nervous little Nia wouldn't have to repeat it after her.

"First, why did magic originate?"

Thales maintained his smile, shrugged, and indicated that he didn't know.

Just kidding, I wish I had known.

No, it would be terrible if she knew I knew.

Megan gestured to the young nun behind her:
"Nia".

The thin, pitiful-looking veiled girl, having received a hint, laboriously but carefully took out a large, metallic-looking box from their luggage and placed it on Thales's desk.

Wait, it's not a box. It's made up of thin sheets stacked together without any gaps.

It seems more like a book?

The top of the metal box features a lifelike sculpture of a king in military attire surrounded by a crowd. The sculpture is simple and unpretentious, yet easy to understand. Around it are engraved symbols that look very familiar to Thales and are somewhat similar to the ancient imperial script.

"what is this?"

Thales frowned and instinctively reached out to open the metal "book".

Snapped!
"Don't touch it!"

Thales winced in pain and pulled his hand back in surprise, only to find that the person who hit him was the little nun named Nia.

Nia habitually stretched out her hand, and a fierce and menacing look could be vaguely seen beneath her veil.

Just as she had done countless times, to warn anyone who wanted to touch the metal-paged book.

But the next second, when the little nun realized who she had hit, she panicked. "I..."

Nia lowered her head and murmured:

"Yes, isn't it..."

Thales could only laugh awkwardly (what else could he do? Let DD in and drag her out to kill her?), and reluctantly withdrew his misbehaving left hand.

But Megan's priest quickly came to his rescue:
"This is a metal plaque found in the tomb of King Anset."

"King Ansette?"

Thales' eyes flickered:
"Wait, I've read this name before..."

Thales put his little brain to work and recalled the time he spent in the library in Dragon City.

But Meghan clearly wasn't going to give him a chance to demonstrate his memory and knowledge, and she was quite direct:
"He was one of the first human kings of the Chronicle of Kings, and a relative of the royal family of the ancient kingdom of Chavin."

"In the century following the collapse of the last line of defense, the death of the Iron King, the fall of the North, the demise of Shavin, and the massive southward invasion of the ancient orcs, it was King Anset who rallied the kings amidst the panicked human ranks, overcoming all opposition, to form a coalition council, defend the fortified cities, and await an opportunity to counterattack..."

Thales gave a perfectly timed "oh," recalling the initiator of the Council of Kings and a pivotal figure in the Chronicle of Kings, but then his expression turned strange as he glanced at the metal plaque on the table:
"King Ansette..."

"You...robbed his grave?"

Megan's expression immediately froze.

"not us."

Her tone was somewhat dissatisfied.

Thales coughed and said sullenly:
"of course not."

You are just... kind, innocent, and naive buyers and collectors, right?

“And this is…” Thales shifted his attention back to the metal plaques in front of him, watching as Nia skillfully opened the first few pages, and several images flashed by:

The city walls collapsed, the sentry posts were destroyed, and countless people were killed or decapitated.

A gigantic figure loomed forward, carrying severed heads and weapons, closing in on a group of soldiers with nowhere to retreat.
The king on the cover sits at a round table, waving his arms and delivering a passionate speech.

“In ancient times, before the advent of paper and printing, people recorded important events and history on pages cast from special alloys so that they would not be forgotten.”

Megan remained seated and said calmly:

"As far as I know, some places, including the North, still retain this tradition."

Thales remembered.

Back in the North, it is said that the White Blade Guard's "White Blade Chronicles" was written in this way. However, Thales has never been able to understand how the White Blade Guard's records, after hundreds of years, could weigh tens of tons. How could a thin-armed, thin-legged dead man's face carry them?
In the distance, a surprised Gilbert wanted to go forward but couldn't lose his composure, so he could only crane his neck to look from where he was. Thales could see the amazement in his eyes at the metal plaque.

"In the very beginning, when the world had not yet been fully explored, when faiths were still fragmented, and when humanity was still small and insignificant..."

Megan spoke slowly and deliberately, while Sister Nia turned the pages in cooperation:

On the pages, the crowned kings appear tiny, standing back to back among a group of enormous figures.

"At that time, humans were surrounded by powerful and incongruous alien races: bloodthirsty orcs who worshipped their ancestors were expanding their territory southward, the elven kingdoms that believed in nature were thriving, and the dwarven kings who revered iron and fire were ambitious..."

"And even more dragons and monstrous beasts..."

Thales made a move:
"Uh...what?"

Megan had to stop again, and sighed:

"Evidence from an archaeological discovery suggests that many years before the advent of human drawings and writing, our world was ruled by many enormous beasts."

"Unimaginably huge."

"The dragon is only the head of the group."

"They roam freely between the sky and the earth, ruling over mountains and oceans, using the world as their hunting ground and living beings as their slaves, taking whatever they want from tiny insects, and displaying boundless power."

Thales then understood.

Nia turned to another page:
A man wearing a crown stood atop the city wall, surrounded by many figures, some holding weapons, some draped in robes, and some leaning on canes...

"Among humankind, there is a group of strategists who, with their experience and wisdom, diligently devise plans in tribal tents, noble courts, and city towers, striving to buy humanity a chance to breathe."

"He's exactly the same as Count Cassel over there."

In the distance, Gilbert's expression darkened further.

"At that time, the harsh environment almost drove the lowest and weakest humans to the brink of extinction."

Nia turned to the next page.

The engraving on this page caught Thales's attention:

In the vast sky, a blurry figure appeared in the pattern of the sun, looking down solemnly and stretching out its arms to the king and his advisors.

"Until the gods look down and have pity on the weak."

Meghan's words became increasingly profound:

"Prophets and divine messengers descended to earth one after another to point out the way for mankind's future and spread the faith of the gods."

"And the group of people I was talking about..."

Megan looked up:
“Some of them accepted God and faith, and were devout and humble.”

"Others are skeptical, or even dismissive."

Thales stiffened, then saw the next page Nia had turned to:
Under the sun, a crowned man stood in the center, with several groups of people standing on either side of him. The two groups at the far left and right ends were the most conspicuous: the people on the right bowed in worship with humble expressions, while the people on the left stood with their backs turned, each with a different posture.

Looking at the two completely different groups of people beside the king, Thales' expression became serious.

Meghan continued:
"The former established churches, took root among the people, and educated the masses."

"The latter group stood together, forming their own faction and forging their own path."

Meghan then changed the subject:
"And this is the beginning of the division between faith and magic, priests and mages, temple churches and magic towers."

Having figured it out, Thales couldn't help but speak up:
"what?"

He looked at Megan, who simply smiled slightly:
"Now do you know why knowledge about mystical magic, which has long since disappeared, is only mentioned in our theology classes?"

Thales found it hard to believe.

"Faith and magic share a common origin," the old priest said solemnly, his expression turning serious.

"They are interdependent and mutually reinforce each other's importance."

Thales stared blankly at the priestess Megan before him, countless thoughts racing through his mind.

Megan continued speaking with an imposing air, so much so that even Gilbert couldn't help but straighten his posture and become solemn.

"They were originally brothers, both inspired by God."

Megan sighed softly:

"Only the eldest son is loyal, while the youngest son is rebellious."

Meghan's words carried a subtle respect:
"But they all strived for one goal: the survival and prosperity of humankind."

Thales listened with suspicion, thinking that this was yet another perspective.

Faith and magic, religion and sorcerers, are they from the same origin?

"The firstborn of God reshapes the spirit of the people, bringing them the belief in protection and salvation, enabling them to cast aside weakness, dispel fear, retain resilience, and give birth to heroism."

"The youngest son of God gave people powerful weapons, enabling them to be more successful and at ease in the inevitable victory."

As Nia flipped through the metal plaque, numerous scenes came into Thales' view:
escape.

banquet.

mobilization.

Marriage.

celebrate.

war.

funeral.

There are so many different things.

But those two groups of people still appear from time to time.

Those who bow their heads are always singing at ceremonies and banquets, while those who turn their backs are always seen on the battlefield and on the city walls.

Thales frowned as he looked at the simple yet profoundly meaningful carving.

"Through their unspoken and spontaneous cooperation, humanity gradually rose up and launched a counterattack."

Megan's tone softened slightly.

The old priest took a deep breath and sighed softly:
"Finally, on the Quetzalcoatl ice plains, in that epic battle where both sides staked everything and gambled on the future..."

"King Anset, along with the other six human kings and their three thousand devout and fearless cavalry, charged into the orcs' tens of thousands of infantrymen..."

Thielston was immediately startled!
The story is...

"They never returned, but at the cost of their lives, they successfully assassinated the highest chieftain of the ancient orcs."

Nia turned to the last few pages:
The king, bearing numerous wounds and clutching his sword, lay quietly in the center of the battlefield. But the enormous figures carrying severed heads had long since vanished, leaving only countless tiny figures leading horses, holding spears, surrounding the king, and standing solemnly with flags raised.

Above, the clouds dispersed and the battlefield was illuminated by the light.

"Without their supreme chieftain, the leaderless ancient orcs collapsed."

Megan raised her head and spoke in a clear voice:

"Therefore, that battle that ushered in a new era was called..."

"The Battle to Expel the Saint".

Thales fell silent.

Breathing heavily, Nia struggled to close the metal book.

These few thin pages encapsulate the magnificent life of King Anset from a thousand years ago.

"The extermination of the saints is complete, the old order has been changed, the bloodthirstiness of the orcs is no longer frightening, the rule of the elves has declined, the arrogance of the dwarves has vanished, and the fear brought by dragons and monstrous beasts has finally become an unknowable legend."

"So the alien races disappeared into the four corners of the earth, and the belief in the gods spread throughout the land."

Megan looked wistfully at the setting sun outside the window:

"A golden age for humanity is on the horizon."

(End of this chapter)