Kingdom Bloodline

Chapter 584 Family Origin
"why?"

Raphael looked displeased and responded coldly.

“There’s no why,” Thales stood before the portrait of Noah Armand, “Lone Sail,” gritting his teeth as he looked up:
"I want to see him."

Raphael shook his head:

"I don't think so..."

“I know he’s here,” Thales interrupted him, trying to gather his thoughts as he insisted firmly.

"After the banquet, he was brought here directly."

In the secret service corridor, under the gaze of the successive intelligence chiefs depicted on the walls, Raphael stared intently at Thales.

"What are you going to do?"

"Nothing to do."

Thales calmed himself down and made up his mind:
"But he's one of the messes I left behind."

"I must see him."

"immediately."

Seeing Thales's unwavering and determined expression, Raphael couldn't help but frown:
"I cannot decide; I need to consult the lord first. Tomorrow..."

“You’ve been making excuses to me all day,” Thales interrupted him mercilessly:

"For the sake of the past, you should at least be of some use, right?"

Raphael pursed his lips.

But right now.

“If you really wish to see him, Your Highness Thales, it is not impossible.”

They both turned their heads.

The speaker was an acquaintance who was using a cane.

He stood respectfully and humbly beneath the portrait of "The Pale Baron" Sancho Doyle.

"Nob?"

Raphael looked at the newcomer with surprise:

What are you doing here?

As the highest-ranking official of the Kingdom's Secret Service in the Western Wilderness, Nob did not answer, but simply looked at Thales quietly.

The prince glanced at Raphael, then turned and walked toward Nob.

"You mean it, Norb?"

"You really can take me to see him? Anker Bailar?"

Norb nodded and bowed respectfully: "I have the authority."

"plz follow me."

Thales exhaled and stepped forward.

“Wait a minute,” Raphael said, pressing Thales’ shoulder, his face grim.

"Nob, this is none of your business."

"Don't interfere in my case."

Thales spoke up in dissatisfaction:
"Hey……"

Konobu tapped his cane, indicating that the prince need not rush.

“Listen to me, Raphael.”

Norb patiently said:

“Anke Bailar is a nobleman from the Western Wilderness. In this case, I believe my long-term experience of being undercover in the Western Wilderness can be helpful…”

“I don’t need it,” Raphael refused outright.

This time, however, Norb did not back down.

"But the lord needs it."

The intelligence chief of the Western Wilderness said calmly:
"In fact, he has already assigned me the task of interrogating and investigating Anker Bailar before he was handed over to the courtroom."

Raphael was immediately taken aback:
"When?"

“Just now,” Nob said calmly:
“I believe that letting His Highness meet him might help the case progress.”

At that moment, Raphael frowned as he looked at Nob, who calmly returned the gaze of the Bone Man.

The two secret agents exchanged glances in mid-air.

“Your Highness,” Norbwen gestured with his hand.

"Shall we leave?"

Thales glanced at Raphael, then decisively stepped forward.

"honestly……"

As Thales walked past the skeleton, he glanced at Raphael with displeasure, his words laced with sarcasm:

"What use are you to me, Cohen Karabyan?"

Raphael stood there, his face ashen.

Norb smiled slightly, turned around and led the way:

"If you are worried, Raphael, you are welcome to come along."

He became friendly and humble again.

Raphael remained silent and expressionless.

The figures of the prince and Norbu gradually disappeared into the distance.

The Bone Man coldly glanced at the "Black Messenger" Mason Zonevid in the portrait opposite him. A few seconds later, he took a step forward and quickly followed.

Thales quickly realized that the place he was going to was not simple.

They wandered around, until they reached an inconspicuous corner, where they climbed a stone staircase that had sunk into the ground.

Unlike the cold and desolate atmosphere above ground, the underground corridors of the Secret Society were heavily guarded and locked. Several groups of police Rudolphins were encountered just for sniffing. Even with Raphael and Nob clearing the way, Thales still felt that the pace was slow and every step was difficult.

“Necessary security check,” Nob explained patiently as he was being checked by a guard.
“Especially with you here, that’s even more important.”

Thales forced a smile, making a Rudolphin that was sniffing him whimper and back away.

As the guards pulled open a heavy iron gate, leading them into another damp and foul-smelling corridor, a restless commotion arose from the darkness on either side:
"It's this time again—can't you guys give people who want to sleep a little more time! What, the fortress is lost, the North is lost, and now even my diplomatic dignity is going to be lost!"

"Your Highness! Your Highness Midir! Your legs are healed? That's wonderful! I knew those villains' treacherous plot to usurp the throne and change the heir wouldn't succeed... No, Your Highness, you must stop His Majesty, he cannot marry that woman..."

"He has come, with the devil's babbling; he has come, with the gods' schemes; he has come, with the cruelest fate for humankind..."

"They must have been lying in wait for a long time. They were secretly colluding with the rebels. They even wanted to turn the Duke against him, make him king, storm Yongxing City, and change the dynasty! Everyone, yes, it must have been all of them who conspired to murder the Duke! Starshine, Starshine, long live Starshine! Someone, someone must pay the price..."

"Damn it! I knew there was something wrong with that battle at the altar! What a load of bull, the Desert God Altar Conqueror! Bullshit!"

“Listen to me, it’s Saoirse, Princess Saoirse, it must be her! She has relatives in Vine City, where people specialize in herbs and know everything about the business… and those unscrupulous merchants from the Fragrant Merchant Guild, they’ve always been dissatisfied with Prince Bank’s policies and are colluding with the Blood Bottle Gang to stir up trouble…”

In the darkness, the figures in the cells on both sides were not clearly visible, but the screams and cries mixed together, making Thales uneasy.

"This is a special cell set up by the Secret Service; it's somewhat dark and complicated," Nob said, ignoring him and remaining expressionless.

Please bear with me.

Thales coughed lightly: "These people..."

“They were already convicted by the court,” Raphael continued.

"He should have been imprisoned for life in the prison of bones."

"However, some people have special identities, some still have some value, and some are not suitable to serve their sentences outside the Kingdom's Secret Service."

Norb sighed:

“If Chisel hadn’t died at Baki’s camp, he should have been brought here by now.”

Raphael glared at him:
"As you can see, many people have gone insane—they have something to hide, so naturally their will is not strong."

Norb shook his head:
"They are just stuck in the past and can't get out of it."

Raphael's gaze toward him grew increasingly hostile.

Immersed in the past.

Thales's expression darkened slightly as he conjured up the image of the Black Path, a wondrous journey deep within the mountains of Dragon Sky City.

Norb sighed:
“I remember Lord Hansen once said to everyone: ‘To be able to forget is the greatest happiness.’”

Raphael gave a soft snort:
"I don't remember when he said that?"

Norb smirked:
"Thirty years ago."

Thirty years.

Raphael remained silent for a moment.

Thales couldn't help but ask:

"How old are you this year?"

Amidst the endless wailing, Nob nodded respectfully:

"Forty-two."

Thales pursed his lips and said nothing.

They crossed another iron gate, shutting out the howling behind them.

What appeared before them were rows of heavily locked, iron-doored cells, each with only a small gate connecting it to the outside world.

Thales was called here.

“I knew you would come,” a deep, resonant voice echoed from behind a cell, a voice that Thales seemed to recognize.
"I just didn't expect it to be so fast."

The prince frowned and turned around: a weathered face appeared at the gate.

“By the way, kid, the wine last night was awful,” said a disheveled but unyielding man, gripping the iron bar on the gate and glaring at Thales.
"I'm still hungover."

Raphael and Nob exchanged a glance, both hesitant to speak.

Thales was silent for a moment before letting out a cold hum:

"Of course, it can't compare to the wine here."

"Lord Aarond."

The prince continued forward, leaving Val Arend behind.

Norb followed closely behind.

“I told you, he’d be a big problem,” the imprisoned Duke of the North silently watched Thales’s figure.

"It's even bigger than you, you little wildling."

Upon hearing this title, Raphael, who was lagging behind, stopped and looked at Val behind the iron gate with a complicated expression.

"Eat more vegetables from now on, Your Grace."

Raphael stared at him for a long while before slowly saying:

"Don't just drink."

After saying this, the Bone Man turned and left.

"Wait a minute."

Raphael turned around.

Val braced his elbow against the iron gate, remained silent for a few seconds, and then slowly handed a folded letter through the gate.

Raphael frowned.

"You know she won't reply to your letter."

Val's eyes dimmed.

"I know."

The Duke's gaze fell on Raphael's hands.

The latter instinctively put his hands behind his back.

“But at least it will allow you to see her once, child,” Val said absentmindedly.

Raphael looked at him for a long time, and finally sighed.

He walked to the gate, snatched the letter, and carefully put it away:

"Ok."

Val forced a smile.

"Thank you."

But the next second, the skeleton's expression returned to its indifferent state:
"But we only use cacophonies."

After saying that, Raphael roughly pulled the gate shut.

Behind the darkness, Val's face was hidden.

Led by Nob, Thales finally arrived at his destination: a spacious room.

"There was a little girl, beautiful and kind, but her fate was unfortunate; she lost her mother at a young age..."

But before they even stepped into the room, an unpleasant song drifted into their ears:

"An old lecher came, drunk and trying to grope the bed, but the girl's eyes lit up, and there was meat soup on the stove..."

The singing came from a man, who sounded smug and enthusiastic.

“That’s my subordinate,” Nob apologized awkwardly to the prince.
"I asked him to come and scout out the place first."

Thales nodded, and they entered the room to the tune of the man humming a lullaby.

It's dark, damp, and oppressive here.

The first thing that catches the eye is a variety of terrifying gadgets:
Torture racks, head crushers, stretching wheels, skinning beds, thorn chairs, blood cradles... these are just some of the things Thales recognized—there were similar places in the black gold casino next to the Black Street when he was a child—and there were many more small tools and gadgets on the carts that he couldn't name.

Thales's heart sank.

A fat man appeared in the center of the room. He was facing away from the door, shirtless, wearing an apron, gloves, and a hood. He hummed a song and shook his shoulders while rhythmically tidying up the various tools on the cart.

"The tongs grip the egg, twisting and turning it forcefully, the pervert wakes up in pain and screams, the girl laughs and turns around: just think of it as grilling a skewer, wrap it around nine and a half times, press the knife down, wow, stir it in with the tip of the knife, peel it and open it up, oh, carve a little funnel..."

Anker Bailar—the notorious trespasser who broke into the royal banquet—lies naked and motionless on the central chaise longue with his eyes closed.

He had clearly lost consciousness, his limbs were bound and his body was covered in wounds, with only a thin blanket stained with blood covering his lower body.

Thales stared at the bloodstains on the recliner beneath him, and his heart tightened.

Perhaps due to the soundproofing effect of the hood, the fat man humming a song did not notice the movement behind him.

Holding a hammer in one hand and pliers in the other, he wiggled his hips and swung his waist, dancing wildly and singing with abandon:
The lecher cried, "Girl, please stop! You were so good-tempered last night, why are you so violent tonight?" The girl smiled and said, "You're so quick to admit your mistake. I'm a cannibal. I didn't eat much tonight. Girl, how about the meat broth you're making?"

In the bloody, terrifying, dark, and gloomy torture chamber, the sight of this fat man, jiggling his flabby flesh and dancing passionately, was so bizarre that Nob could only awkwardly cough loudly:
"Gomez."

The fat man seemed not to hear him. He continued to stick out his buttocks and sway his waist, the hammer seductively brushing against the buttocks of the three people in front of him.

Norb had to turn up the volume:
"Gomez!"

With two clangs, the hammer and pliers both fell to the ground.

The fat man froze in place, still stroking his buttocks, and the song stopped.

The room fell silent.

The fat man named Gomez trembled as he removed his hood, stumbled around, and was startled to see Thales first.
"Wow!"

Gomez breathed a sigh of relief, wiping the sweat from his face after the energetic dance.
"Who are you, you little brat? Don't you know it's wrong to scare people like that..."

Nob emerged from the darkness:

"Gomez."

"This is Prince Thales."

Gomez froze again.

After a few seconds.

"Ah, Nob, you're early! You're dressed nicely today! I'm... warming up, hehe, warming up," the fat man pleaded at first, but his expression changed after realizing what the other man meant.
"Huh? You mean Your Highness?"

He stared at Thales, who had no expression, and looked him up and down several times.

"Ahhh—Your Highness Thales!"

Gomez immediately put on a fawning expression, trying to cover his heavy chest with his apron, and became so excited that he was incoherent:

"I'm from the Western Wilderness, that one, that one! Do you remember me... that one!"

Unfortunately, his bare torso, covered in sweat and blood, halved the effectiveness of his attempt to ingratiate himself.

Thales could only smile and nod at him.

"Wake up the prisoners." Nob felt ashamed and helplessly covered his face.

Gomez gave a fawning smile, said "Alright," and turned around to grab a pair of blood-stained pliers, walking enthusiastically toward Anker on the recliner.

Thales's expression changed.

"and many more."

Nob stopped him in time, glancing at Thales:

Be friendly.

Gomez lowered his head sheepishly, dropped the pliers, replaced the water with a bucket of cold water, and splashed it on Anker.

"Cough cough, Tina, cough cough cough—"

Anke, who was lying on the recliner, was jolted awake by the cold water, as if he had just woken up from a nightmare.

"Tina...cough cough..."

He coughed up the water in pain, turned around weakly and haggardly, and only when he saw the bandages on his hands and feet did he realize that he was still in a nightmare.

"Didn't we agree to rest for fifteen minutes...?"

Anke slumped weakly back into the recliner, barely alive.
"It's the middle of the night, and I'm not tired... Aren't you... tired either..."

Thales looked at his blood-stained fingernails, his bruised and red joints, and his increasingly vacant eyes, and felt a difficulty breathing.

"Hey buddy, wake up!"

Gomez slapped Anker's face hard, knocking his eyelids back open:

Someone's here to see you!

Thales sighed deeply and walked up to Bailar.

"Anke Bailar".

"it's me."

Anker's unfocused eyes were confused for a moment, then gradually focused.

"Your Highness?"

He struggled to lift his upper body and finally saw the boy in front of him.

"Prince Thales?"

Anker's breathing quickened, his chest heaved, and he forced a weak smile:

How was your day?

He was trembling all over, and the blanket that had slipped off was covered in blood. Occasionally, the blanket would aggravate his wounds, causing him to groan and sweat profusely. Thales suppressed his nausea, helped Anke pull the blanket back up, and gestured for him to lie back down.

“I want to speak with him alone,” the prince said to the people behind him.

"Now."

Raphael and Nob exchanged a glance.

Nob gestured to Gomez with his eyes, and the latter reluctantly pulled out a water bag issued by the Western Wilderness military.

"Open your mouth, buddy."

Gomez brought the water bag to Anker's mouth:

"This is a specially blended chaka liquor, a medical pain reliever, to make you feel better—damn, don't drink too much, it's expensive!"

Amid Gomez's pained cries and shouts, Anker loosened his grip on the bag, collapsed onto the deck chair, and burst into laughter.

Raphael was about to say something, but Nob patted him on the shoulder and pulled a wronged-looking Gomez along.

The three left the torture chamber.

Only Thales and Anker remained.

"It's no use, Your Highness."

With his limbs bound, Anke struggled to turn his head, his words coming out in broken sentences:
“This is the secret department. Once you leave, they will come back and force me to repeat what I told you.”

Thales looked at the tormented Anker, trying hard not to look at his wounds.

"I know," the boy thought, a lump forming in his throat.
"I just want you to feel more comfortable."

Anker stared at him quietly, a tired smile on his face.

“You are a good person, Your Highness.”

"But, as kind and generous as you are, have you found a way to avoid being a pawn?"

Thales paused, his eyes flickering slightly.

Are there any differences between you and him?

His final words to Anker at the royal banquet still echo in my ears:
I simply... understand... the other pieces.

This man...

He chose to believe me, so he released the sword.

And what can I do for him?
Recalling his experience in Ballard's Chamber, Thales pursed his lips, seemingly wanting to say something but holding back.

"I understand."

Seeing the prince's expression, Anke, panting, understood: "I'm sorry to have troubled you."

"Whether it was yesterday or now."

Thales took a deep breath, forcing himself to suppress his negative emotions.

"No, the case is still under investigation, and there is still a chance for a turnaround."

Anker leaned back in his chair, grimacing and groaning.

"There's no need to comfort me, Your Highness."

"The Bairar family has long been bankrupt and is destitute."

He gave a wry smile:
"And I studied the kingdom's laws before I came..."

"Armed assassination and offense against the royal family is punishable by death without a doubt. Moreover, my actions have stirred up trouble between the Western Wilderness and the royal family, alienated the Seven Attendants from the Fuxing Palace, and distanced me from Your Majesty. They even involve many unspeakable secrets hidden behind the scenes in the 'Land Measurement Decree,' which are extremely troublesome and give me a headache."

“All stakeholders will be happy to kick someone when they're down.”

Anke stared blankly at the ceiling, his gaze unfocused in the dim light.
"I'm beyond saving."

Thales leaned back in his recliner, or rather, his torture chair, and a tightness appeared on his lips.

"uncertain."

Duke Starlake, recalling the Black Prophet's words, forced a smile:

"I can find a way to deal with things that involve clashing with the royal family."

"As for the rest, I can go and 'communicate' with Baron Doyle and persuade him to be kind."

The prince tried his best to piece together his chosen words to make them sound more elegant, at least not so pale and weak:
"As long as both sides reach an agreement, the debt between your families can be resolved smoothly. As for the land dispute between Crowcry Town and Mirror River..."

"No, Your Highness."

Anker interrupted him.

The young nobleman from the Western Wilderness forced a bitter smile, looked at Thales with gentle but desperate eyes, and shook his head weakly but decisively.

“We all understand that this is no longer just a matter between Crowcry Town and Mirror River.”

Thales paused, unable to continue speaking.

"Your Highness, are you aware of the current situation in the Western Wilderness?"

Anke, reclining on the chaise longue, silently gazed at the prince, his eyes distant, as if looking out from the other side of the River of Hell:
"After the Desert Wars, the Blade Fang Dunes and the Royal Standing Army were like a sharp knife, piercing straight into the heart of the Western Wilderness."

"Their military control over the western front restrained the selfish, xenophobic, conservative, and divisive lords of the western wilderness, which became the best reason for the Restoration Palace to implement royal rule in the western wilderness: the 'Land Measurement Order' and the 'Border County Expansion Order' made the lords hate them to the bone but they were helpless."

Thales frowned.

He remembered Grace Town, and the plight of the Western Wilderness that Earl Deler Cloma of Wingburg had told him on his way back to Yongxing City from the Western Wilderness.

"Yes, in order to salvage my father's mess and find a way out for the family and the loopholes in the contract, I read through all the official documents, decrees and replies between the Western Wilderness and the Central Territory over the past ten years. I can practically recite them backwards."

Anke's face flushed, and he smiled at him.

His breathing became much more even, his groans and moans ceased, and the pauses between sentences decreased.

It seems that Gomez's wine is having an effect.

"However, ten years have passed, and the cunning, pragmatic, passive, and lazy lords of the Western Wilderness have found the most shameless way to deal with it."

What's the most shameless way to deal with this?
Thales was taken aback.

Anker's spirits improved slightly; he tried to think, and his listlessness vanished.
"On the one hand, they pretended to be compliant, making military control of the Baki camp the norm. On the other hand, they deliberately allowed trouble to brew, causing resentment among the lower-ranking nobles."

"Over time, this sword became a burden to the king: royal decrees had no legitimacy without wartime control orders, government orders were difficult to implement without the help of the kingdom's standing army, and envoys from the Palace of Restoration were not respected unless they were the legendary Wings himself."

"And local conflicts like those between my family and Doyle have become increasingly deep and difficult to resolve..."

Anke's gaze gradually focused, and he persisted in speaking, as if realizing that this was the only remaining time he had left in his life:
"This, on the contrary, turned the desert front into a talisman for the Western Wilderness lords—they wanted to slowly get used to this sword, assimilate it, and make it both a brilliant plan and a hindrance to the king, just like my father shamelessly dragging on a mountain of debt, which in turn left the creditors helpless, hahaha..."

feigning compliance, stirring up trouble, and shamelessly clinging to power...

Thales took a deep breath.

He then recalled Gilbert's words about the "divided western wilderness."

However, Anke changed the subject:
"Thus, this dagger stuck in the heart of the Western Wilderness, beyond the expectations of both sides, entered the most awkward tug-of-war."

Anker took a deep breath, cherishing the few moments the alcohol provided that allowed him to ignore the pain:

"The people of the Western Wilderness suffer: This sharp knife is stuck in a vital spot, and it has always been the thorn in their side that they hate the most, yet they still have to endure the pain and try to assimilate it into their own limbs and amulets."

"Fuxing Palace is exhausted: The hand holding the knife has spent a lot of money but can neither stab nor pull it out. It is stuck and cannot move forward or backward. If it moves forward, it will cause great chaos and lose more than it gains. If it retreats, all previous efforts will be wasted and it will be meaningless."

Thales's eyes changed.

At that moment, he seemed to see a black and white chessboard:
At one end was his father's magnificent and prestigious Star Staff, and at the other end was Falkenhausen's unremarkable wooden cane.

"Both sides are waiting, and must wait, for an opportunity."

"Perhaps it will be an external war, a crisis, or a major event. The people of the Western Wilderness await a turning point in the situation, while the Palace of Revival awaits an opportunity for further progress."

Thales nodded and wiped away a patch of blood that was obscuring Anke's vision:
"I know: for example, my return to my homeland, the ownership of the Baki camp, and the invasion of the Wildlings and Hybrids. Both sides have been dealing with each other back and forth, responding to each other's moves."

"for example……"

Thales didn't continue speaking, but instead quietly looked at Anker.

Anker forced a smile and weakly nodded:
"That's why I realized that the only way for the Bailar family, who were already at their wits' end, to save themselves was to seize this opportunity."

"To put my family's case in the spotlight and ride this wave of public attention."

Thales lowered his head and sighed.

"So I must die, preferably at a banquet, in a duel, like a hero, leaving a lifeline for my family, preserving their property, land, and title."

Anke straightened up, completely ignoring the fact that his wound was reopening.

His breathing became rapid, and his voice became much sharper, as if he had returned to the clash of swords and shadows of yesterday.

"until……"

"Until you..."

Anke stared blankly at the prince, helpless and bewildered, with a plea he himself was unaware of.

Thales' hand, which was resting on the recliner, trembled slightly.

"So, things have come to this..."

Anker realized something, and he lay back in his chair, falling into a somber silence.
"No one can save me, Your Highness."

Even you.

"you."

Thales was stunned and speechless.

He was right.

He couldn't save him.

He couldn't even face his father's questioning in Ballard's room.

The silence in the torture chamber lasted for a while.

"I'm sorry," Thales said with difficulty, feeling his tone dry, dull, and meaningless.

"Do not."

Anker turned his head and curled the corners of his mouth into a smile.

His eyes were filled with gloom.

"Thank you, Your Highness."

"Thank you for facing the injustices cried out by others, for the desperate pleas of those who have nowhere else to turn, and for the suffering of others..."

"You did not respond coldly, but turned and waved your sleeve."

Even if you could.

"Thank you for your kindness at the banquet."

kindness.

Thales couldn't help but recall Jann's words:

[You have extinguished this hope with your power: regardless of the outcome of the duel, whether you live or die, whether you kill the prince or never overturn the verdict, his family will be doomed.]

You exploited his humanity, forcing him to abandon the duel, even forcing him to live on, so stingy that you wouldn't even grant him the mercy of death.

Now, who is the heartless one?

The prince trembled slightly.

Anke stared blankly and said:

"Thank you for coming here to listen to my voice—or my last words."

"Thank you for being as tolerant, fair, kind, and wise as you've been described."

Anke stared at the ceiling, but a smile crept onto his lips, as if he were seeing a beautiful scene from a dream:
"It's not sunny here... but it's not that dark either, right?"

Thales couldn't stand it anymore and slammed his hand on the armrest of the recliner.

He took a deep breath and turned around:

“Anker, I promise you, regarding the matter of your father and the Doyle family…”

"It doesn't matter anymore."

Anker shook his head listlessly.

“I know my father, Your Highness.”

"He's a damn bastard, stubborn, extravagant, ambitious, and self-righteous."

The Western Wilderness people's expressions were disgusted and contemptuous.

Thales looked at him in surprise:
“Anker…”

"Marrying him was the greatest misfortune of my mother's life, while marrying her was the greatest fortune of my father."

Anker scoffed lightly.

“Yes, to grab attention, my words at the banquet were incomplete and untrue: my father’s fate was entirely his own fault,” he gave Thales an apologetic smile.

"I know, I've always known."

"Even if it weren't for Doyle's scheming that caused him to squander his fortune, he would have fallen into the hands of someone else sooner or later."

"It is no fault of anyone else."

"It has nothing to do with you."

Thales didn't speak; he simply lowered his head, grasped Anker's hand, felt his grip tighten, and continued to listen to his confession.

Just like in the former prison of bones.

Anke stared blankly into space, recounting his troubles like a child:
“In fact, from childhood to adulthood, my father’s greatest skill was whipping his wife and children, just like most fathers in the Western Wilderness.”

"In the final tower, Teacher Kuradel said I have great insight and am very sensitive to the enemy's attacks, making me very suitable for the Rose lineage," Anke said, first with disdain, then bursting into laughter.
"I could only tell him that it was due to practice since childhood, a family tradition."

"A family tradition of learning, a family tradition, hahahaha..."

“Believe it or not,” Thales whispered.
"Being good at taking a beating is also a family tradition of mine."

Anke glanced at him, and the two smiled at each other.

"Perhaps we should have met sooner, so we could have exchanged ideas..."

But the smiles of the young people in the Western Wilderness grew increasingly bitter, astringent, and heavy.

Thales listened quietly.

It was as if this was the last thing he could do.

Bairar exhaled.

“I have never been close to my father, and I have no intention of paying the bill for the mess he left behind by his reckless behavior.”

Anke shook his head, the struggle in his eyes gradually turning into relief:

"But we had no choice, right?"

“Especially our background.”

I was never close to my father.

We had no choice.

Especially our background.

At that moment, Thales, who was in a daze, felt his hand tighten as the other person held it, and the Sin of the Prison River jumped slightly.

“Anke…” The prince endured the pain and gently patted the back of Anke’s hand to help him relax.

Ke Anke Bailar just stared blankly into the void:

“But my siblings are innocent, just like our mother.”

“They shouldn’t be like me, burdened by the shadow of their fathers. They should leave the Western Wilderness and go out to see the world, just as I promised them.”

Anke silently snapped back to reality, filled with disappointment:
But I can't see it anymore.

Thales closed his eyes.

The shadow of our parents...

At that moment, he seemed to see the figure at the end of the long table in the Ballard Room, and he seemed to see the throne at the end of the corridor in the council chamber.

"They'll be alright."

The prince opened his eyes and tried his best to comfort the other person:

“Your siblings, I swear… I will do everything in my power.”

Anke looked at him and nodded with difficulty.

"It's impossible to expect the Bailars to retain their titles and lands and provide them with a comfortable life..."

Anker seemed to remember something and tried his best to explain:
“But my mother had a sum of money deposited in the Royal Bank before she died, and the receipt is in the hands of our maid, Tina.”

"After I die, that might be enough to raise my younger siblings until they reach adulthood—but not necessarily, since everything is more expensive in the capital."

Anker gave a wry smile.

"I just need your help to keep it a secret from others—especially my father's creditors, not just Doyle's family, especially after the land in Ravencry Town was taken back."

Thales exhaled, trying to calm his voice and instill confidence.

“I’ll have someone look after him,” Thales said earnestly.

“In the Western Wilderness, Duke Falkenhaus will give me face, and Deler Cloma of Wingburg is also my friend.”

In fact, he didn't know if they were his friends.

But he had to say it.

must.

But the next second, Thales's hand began to tremble.

He quickly looked at Anke and saw that the other man was emotional and his chest was heaving.

"Anke, don't get excited, conserve your energy..."

It took Anke several seconds to recover.

"It's alright, Your Highness."

He was covered in sweat and forced a smile.

"Even if it's just being a pawn, it's my choice."

Thales looked at him, overwhelmed with mixed feelings.

But a thought struck him.

“Speaking of chess pieces,” the prince said slowly:

“There’s still something I don’t understand, Anke.”

Anke slowly turned his head and looked at him with a puzzled expression.

“Jann Kevin Deer, the mastermind behind the conspiracy, specifically told me yesterday,” Thales began in a low voice, trying to keep his emotions from clouding his judgment:
"Let me come see you in prison when I have time."

Anke's hand froze.

Duke Xinghu solemnly said:

He also said: "His Majesty will be very pleased."

"why?"

"Why did he say that, Anker Bailar?"

Woohoo!

(End of this chapter)