Kingdom Bloodline

Chapter 542 No mercy
At the dukes' long table, Prime Minister Cullen sighed with lingering fear, Janne gave a faint sneer, One-Eyed Dragon remained expressionless, while Duke Val continued to pour himself a drink, oblivious to everyone else.

Banquet speech, banquet speech...

Thales tried desperately to repeat it, but his mind went completely blank.

It's like the deadline for submitting an assignment is midnight, but by 11:50 pm, the document in your hand is still empty.

and many more.

There are references for banquet speeches, aren't there?
next second.

"Gentlemen, welcome, welcome to the Mindis Hall."

Thales, holding his wine glass in one hand, slowly walked out of his seat so that everyone could see him.

Out of politeness, the guests all stood up.

He slowly and deliberately surveyed the hall ("Hurry, hurry, what should I say next...—Thales' inner monologue"), his voice echoing clearly:
"Distinguished guests filled the hall, and distinguished guests filled the seats."

"I have only attended such a big banquet once in my life."

Thales lowered his head, seemingly recalling something, and paused for a few seconds.

He looked up and smiled:
"You know, in Dragon Sky City."

"King Nuen wanted to thank me... well, for killing his son."

Laughter filled the banquet hall.

Except for the guests from the north, they all had ashen faces.

Thales shrugged helplessly.

banquet.

At that moment, the image of King Nuen, holding a wine glass, with his bold and rugged demeanor, inevitably popped into the boy's mind.

Accompanying them was a welcome banquet featuring northern specialties, where the powerful and resounding voice of the born king resonated:

Come on! Eat! Drink! Fight! Fucking! Do whatever you want!

[Until you are carried out of my palace, lying, rolling, limp, crawling!]

[You bastards!]

Thales curled the corners of his lips and silently glanced at the well-mannered guests from the Starry Sky.

He decisively kicked the roaring King Nuen out of his mind.

"Believe me, you don't want to be there."

Thales sighed:

"The food in Dragon City is terrible, and the alcohol is no good either. It's torture."

Some of the guests chuckled.

Thales shrugged, his eyebrows dancing with excitement:
“I guess that’s why he’s thanking me—for killing his son.”

Laughter erupted again in the hall, rising and falling in waves.

Iris glanced at Thales with a strange look, worried about his audacity.

Marius whispered words of comfort to the nervous Gilbert, telling him that this was how His Excellency the Duke had been complaining for months, and that he would get used to it.

Jorge let out an annoyed snort.

"Yes, that's why, when the Black Sand Duke sat on the throne and drank the terrible special wine from Dragon Sky City..."

Thales swirled his glass.

He regretted it.

Laughter began to become the norm in the hall.

"King Chaman hated me and imprisoned me for six long years..."

Thales looked at everyone, quite puzzled:
"But I really can't help him, I mean..."

Duke Starlake shrugged and spread his hands towards the hall, his expression helpless:
"I can't possibly kill every King of Exter, can I?"

The laughter in the hall grew louder and louder. Unexpectedly, Duke Val was among them, staring at his wine glass, his laughter undisguised.

King Kessel squinted.

Thales took a deep breath and reached out to press down, stopping the laughter in the banquet hall.

"Alright, many of you here probably know me."

Among the dukes, many reacted differently.

“That’s right, I’ve just finished a six-year journey,” Thales said solemnly, facing the guests and pleased to see them sitting upright as well, raising his glass in a gesture of respect.
"Civilized and elegant, peaceful and harmonious."

Some of the guests couldn't help but chuckle.

But Thales' tone immediately took a sharp turn:

"My return must have surprised many people, because I can see doubt, vigilance, alienation, and hostility in your eyes."

The last word chilled the previously relaxed and pleasant atmosphere in the banquet hall.

One-Eyed Dragon and Duke Iris stared intently at Thales, deep in thought.

Thales turned halfway away, avoiding looking at the king's expression:

"What has become of this prince who suddenly appeared six years ago after returning from the enemy country? What will he bring to you? What will he bring to the kingdom? Stability or turmoil, peace or change?"

"I understand, because I have the same doubts."

Thales's expression was grave:
"Some are delighted, some are confused, some are watching and some are hesitant, and of course, there may be some who don't want to see me appear."

The entire hall fell completely silent.

“But I remember six years ago, when I was about to leave the country and head north, an elder gave me a piece of advice,” Thales said, looking at the wine glass in his hand with a serious expression:

“Go to Exter, go to the North Wind and the Dragon’s Children, go to see another star from another perspective, another world, and perhaps I can gain something.”

The Duke of Southrest looked at him differently.

“I did learn something.”

Thales looked up and raised his eyebrows:

"Most importantly... don't drink Exter's wine."

The guests burst into laughter again.

But Thales quickly got back on track:

"But I am still confused."

This time, there was no mockery in the Duke of Starlake's eyes:

"Jokes aside, there is no doubt that Núñez VII was a great king."

"He was decisive, far-sighted, generous, brave, and incredibly intelligent. Yet even a born king like him could not escape his misfortune, could not save Dragonstreet from disaster, and could not stop Exter's decline."

Many guests began to whisper among themselves.

Thales looked as if he was deep in thought.

"This made me start to have doubts."

"How can we, who live next to them, live, govern, and move forward so as not to end up like them and leave no regrets?"

Thales paused for a few seconds, letting the guests' chatter build up, then straightened his posture and raised his head:
"To be honest, I don't know."

Thales shouted:

"But when I stepped into this hall, I thought, at least I know where the answer lies."

Thales raised his glass:
"Today isn't just about me..."

"Three thousand years ago today, the ancient kings marched north with their entire armies, making a desperate gamble to confront the orcs and pursue the saint across thousands of miles."

Thales recalls his former world history class in Errol:
"It was not just King Anset of the Rocky Ridge, but also Ludor, Chauvin, the Northland, Thorneland, the distant mountains, Caironsa, the Salt Flats... It was the unity, selflessness, and fearlessness of countless peoples, nations, and city-states of that era that created miracles and wrote epics."

Thales raised his voice:

"They stood atop the glacier, stepping on the skulls of orcs, declaring to the world: As long as we work together, humanity is invincible!"

Many guests looked serious as they raised their glasses in a gesture of respect.

"On the contrary..."

Thales' expression hardened as he carefully examined each guest: the innocent-looking Duke Cullen, the gloomy-faced Jann, the thoughtful Kusd, the silently stunned Val...

"Division leads to decline, infighting leads to weakness, selfishness is despicable, and mutual destruction is the worst."

Thales' voice deepened, and he looked around, his expression leaving no room for argument:

"Believe me, I have witnessed how the descendants of the hero Nekaru lived: King Nunn's tyranny brought distrust between superiors and subordinates, King Chaman's cruelty made him countless enemies, the grand dukes' arrogance and ambition made the kingdom unstable, and the Northlanders' fanaticism, blindness, and self-righteousness since ancient times have made the situation worse and irreversible."

He said seriously:
"So I understand now, whether it is the war to slay the saints or the kingdom today, only by overcoming these weaknesses, only by being of one mind, only by uniting and working together, can we stand on the earth and look up at the sky."

Thales shouted:

"Just like today, just like yesterday, and just like countless days and nights to come, I and all of you here will remain steadfast in our commitment to this cause!"

Gilbert and his friends looked on with strange expressions, seemingly surprised by the prince's impromptu performance.

The next second, Thales raised his glass above his head and roared:
"Homage to the stars!"

Then Thales said in a long voice:

"For seven hundred years we have basked in her light, we are grateful for her greatness, we take shelter under her wings, and we share in her glory!"

A moment of silence.

Even the shackled Duke of the North, Val Arend, unexpectedly raised his cup and decisively shouted:
"Homage to the stars!"

The one-eyed Duke of Cliffland, Köst Nanthurst, smiled and raised his glass in return:
"Homage to the stars!"

Queen Koya then raised her glass in anticipation and cooperation, prompting a large number of guests who were not used to it to raise their glasses as well.

Soon, urged on by the Queen's gaze, the King also gave a soft hum and raised his wine glass without a care in the world.

With this precedent set, the guests were energized and raised their glasses in unison, echoing the sentiment:

"Homage to the stars!"

The hall erupted in cheers, the sound shaking the ceiling.

Jorge and Levi Trudida, sitting in the corner, looked around, and awkwardly raised their glasses to fit in.

Thales took a deep breath, banishing the anxiety that made him feel like a duck on a shelf:

"Homage to the King!"

Thales turned to King Kessel, raising his glass in the distance, trying not to read the incredibly complex meaning in the latter's eyes:

"He was entrusted with a critical mission and turned the tide, devoting himself to the country for decades and steadfastly protecting it!"

The guests in the hall gradually got used to it and responded in unison:
"Homage to the King!"

Thales's speech became increasingly fluent. He turned around, looked across the entire hall, and swirled his wine glass around:
"Respect for ourselves!"

"For all of you present here and for our ancestors, for our centuries of unwavering dedication and tireless efforts to carry forward the most glorious chapters of human history! And for our unstoppable momentum, as always!"

The guests raised their glasses in response, like a torrent of water erupting:
"Respect for ourselves!"

Thales breathed a sigh of relief, smiled, and looked north again:

“And—” Thales roared with all his heart:

"Fuck you! Chaman Lumba!"

Without prompting or even thinking, many people followed suit and shouted without hesitation:

"Fuck you! Chaman Lumba!"

After shouting this, many people were stunned for a moment, then realized what he meant and burst into laughter.

This time, the guests from different backgrounds and seats were unusually united, including northerners like Jorge and Levy, who shouted without any reservations and with sincerity.

But at that moment, a different shout pierced through the crowd and rang out loudly:

"Homage to Duke Thales!"

Thales was slightly startled.

He was a plainly dressed, unremarkable young nobleman who stood among the guests from out of town, resolutely raising his glass and shouting:
"For his enlightenment, wisdom, magnanimity, courage—and youth!"

Everyone was taken aback again, but soon, many people responded in succession:
"The Duke of Jingxing Lake!"

"Homage to Prince Thales!"

"Respect, Star!"

The echoes of agreement in the hall rose and fell, creating a powerful atmosphere, but many people were filled with regret:
Why didn't you speak first?
Hearing the responses from the hall, Thales ignored the king's expression behind him and took a deep breath.

"Gentlemen!"

Thales, his expression resolute and his gaze unwavering, raised his glass and uttered the final, drawn-out toast:

"If the stars were still here—"

Without anyone prompting them, the guests, their emotions stirred, reacted in unison, shouting out the second half of the sentence they knew by heart:

"—Eternal Empire!"

Thales, seizing the opportunity, tilted his head back and drank the cup, spilling quite a bit in the process, all for the sake of a bold and unrestrained effect.

Fortunately, it wasn't a rye distilled spirit from the North.

It is a grape wine produced in Xingchen.

Thales lowered his head and saw that the guests had almost finished drinking before he laughed and spoke:
"Very well, then let the banquet begin—"

The next second, Thales instinctively slammed his glass down:
"let's start!"

But this time, Thales didn't hear that familiar, resonant thud from the heavy wooden glasses of the North striking the table or stone bricks—a sound he'd heard all too often in the past few years.

But...

"Clap-"

Thales shuddered!
This sound...

Crisp, melodious, pure...

It makes people...

Heartbroken.

Everyone was stunned.

The banquet hall fell silent.

Duke Xinghu lowered his head with difficulty, looking at the precious glass wine glass that had been shattered into pieces at his feet.

Shit.

Thales immediately realized: he had messed up.

He moved his feet expressionlessly, trying to leave the crime scene, but his boots made a chilling sound as they stepped on the broken glass.

This drew even more attention to the prince.

The guests at the royal banquet looked at each other in bewilderment.

Many people were still holding the wine glasses they had just finished drinking.

They stared at the Duke of Starlake, who had just committed the heinous crime of murdering the wine glass in front of the entire kingdom, and were at a loss for words.

Until, in a remote seat, Jorge, the clerk from Elk City, finished his drink and, in high spirits, slammed it down without hesitation!
"Clap-"

The sound of shattering glass startled everyone once again.

But the next moment, Gilbert reacted the fastest. Without hesitation, he poured out the wine he couldn't finish and threw it to the ground!
"Clap!"

Beside him, Lord Marius, the captain of Thales's personal guard, remained expressionless, but also slammed his wine glass down!
"Clap!"

With such a gem before them, many discerning guests from the stars quickly realized what was happening and followed one after another. Whether skilled or not, used or not, liked or disliked, people raised their hands high and smashed their glasses!

"Crack! Crack! Bang! Hiss..."

In an instant, the banquet hall was filled with the sound of ice breaking and silver bottles exploding, the crisp and sharp cracking sounds rising and falling, echoing each other, like a whole marching concerto.

Even the high and mighty Queen Koya enthusiastically tossed her special wine glass, watching it fly in an arc before landing on the floor...

Torn to pieces.

Not only that, Gilbert kept giving the chief steward meaningful glances.

The latter realized what was happening and quickly waved his hand.

Musicians, clowns, and bards stepped forward, played music, and performed.

The servants, scrambling and calling to each other, stepped forward amidst the rustling sound of broken glass on the floor, bringing out the food.

The banquet begins.

Music and performances, food and wine—the atmosphere in the banquet hall finally came alive again.

The guests' conversations, discussions, and laughter finally rang out unrestrainedly.

This overshadowed the uproar, astonishment, abruptness, and embarrassment caused by Thales's "casual" action.

Gilbert finally breathed a sigh of relief.

The former foreign minister touched his forehead and found it covered in cold sweat.

His Highness...

The culprit, the instigator, the esteemed Duke Thales of Starlake, walked mechanically back to his seat, utterly dejected, stepping over the shattered glass and listening to the dual "music" playing in his ears and under his feet.

“Tales,”

While discreetly dragging her leg aside, Iris swept the half-crushed wine glass, which she hadn't quite shattered due to her clumsiness, aside, and asked hesitantly and doubtfully:

"About what just happened..."

"I know, I know, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, it was my fault," Thales said with a forced smile. Remembering his aunt's teachings, he was filled with shame and embarrassment, but his face remained calm and composed, as if this was how he was born.
"I just……"

"got used to."

At the highest seat, King Kessel remained expressionless, simply setting down the perfectly intact wine glass in his hand.

Throughout the hall, besides the clinking of glasses at the start of the banquet, many guests were also discussing things, such as the seating arrangement of the Seven Stars.

"Is this the Stars or Exter's party?" Baron Stolt frowned.

Viscount Paterson gave a light snort, looking at Prince Thales, who seemed completely unaffected, with a half-smile:
"Does it matter?"

"Haha, being lively is good," old Baron Doyle chuckled.
"Being lively makes you more lovable!"

The others remained silent.

But some people think differently.

Baron Quentin, the chief steward of the palace who had come to Mindis Hall to help arrange the banquet, was dumbfounded and trembling as he ordered his servants, "Clean...clean..."

"Also, pass on the message: send over another batch of new imperial glassware..."

But he quickly realized what was happening and called to the servant.

"and many more!"

"Remember, double the quantity."

Baron Quentin gritted his teeth in grief and indignation. Looking at the shattered remains in the hall, he said to his bewildered servant:
"spare."

As the banquet atmosphere grew increasingly lively, with everyone immersed in the delicious food and wine or chatting and laughing, oblivious to everything else, in a secluded seat that no one noticed, a serious guest was absentmindedly forking the goose meat on his plate.

The next second, he felt a movement under his ribs.

The guest's expression changed slightly, and he wanted to turn around, but a familiar, mature voice slowly entered his ears, causing him to pause.

"Don't look back."

The mature voice slowly said:

"You should know how difficult it was to bring this thing in."

The guest froze, but still lowered his right hand and discreetly took the other person's "thing" under the table.

"Why?" the guest asked, puzzled.

The mature voice was barely audible, as if the speaker was completely unconcerned.

“I know what you’re trying to do, but obviously this is more effective.”

"If you are really determined."

The guest's thoughts suddenly tightened.

He glanced at the fork on the table and asked with difficulty, "Why?"

But the mature voice didn't answer, only slowly saying:
"Remember, identify your target."

"You only have one chance."

The guest gritted his teeth:

"I don't understand, he clearly rejected me, why..."

But the mature voice no longer answered.

It's as if it never existed.

The guest took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and stuffed the object under his arm into his clothes.

Find the right target?
The guest slowly raised his head and looked up at the table below the king in the banquet hall.

There sat a composed yet extraordinary person…

juvenile.

The guest breathed in a daze, his eyes gradually transforming from pain, torment, resentment, jealousy, and hesitation into unwavering determination and ruthlessness.

He stared intently at the spirited young duke, gently pressing down on the stranger's gift beneath his clothes.

A cool sensation spread through my skin.

He knew it was a short sword.

Excellent quality.

The blade is cold and ruthless.

Show no mercy.

(End of this chapter)