Kingdom Bloodline

Chapter 600 The Greatest Knight (Part 1)
Cohen walked with his head down through the alleys of the underground street, his eyes glazed over, oblivious to the beggars and homeless people under the eaves on both sides, and their furtive glances.

"Cohen."

The disheveled man to his left was trying to hide the bloodstains on his clothes, while further away, a thug was furtively trying to sell what was in his pocket. Across the street, a beggar and another gaunt colleague were fighting over ownership of an unclaimed ring.

But Cohen simply walked past them in a daze, neither seeing nor hearing them.

What does that have to do with him?

"Cohen?"

The brilliance of the stars allowed him to focus his energy on his own world, undisturbed by anything else. The distant clamor could not attract his attention, nor could the nearby filth stir his thoughts. The underground streets and even the lower city seemed to him to be nothing more than place names on paper.

He seemed to be walking beyond the horizon, beyond everything, completely oblivious to everything—like many noble scions he knew, with their eyes on the kingdom, their hearts set on the world, and destined to achieve great things.

but……

"Cohen!"

Finally, Cohen, who had been lost in thought, snapped back to reality.

"what happened?"

Cohen subconsciously looked around:

Lyok remained ten paces away, his attitude towards them filled with disdain and rejection. Golov dutifully stood guard beside the prince, using his size and expression to block all malicious and covetous glances.

Cohen lowered his head: the speaker—the second prince—looked at him intently, his eyes full of inquiry.

"Cheer up."

Thales' words carried an undeniable air of authority:
“You’ve been a guard for six years; what Morris said shouldn’t have such a big impact on you.”

What Morris said...

Cohen's eyes were unfocused.

You're not fighting against gangs, crime, or even evil.

You represent the power of this country, standing in the position of the strong, facing the resistance of the weak.

Cohen shook his head violently.

"No, it has nothing to do with that scumbag's words, it doesn't affect me—"

"Yeah, right," Golov interrupted him coldly.

Cohen stared blankly at the zombie, his face contorted in struggle.

Thales sighed:

“Listen, Cohen, you need to know that Maurice is a member of the fraternity, and everything he says—”

"No!"

Unexpectedly, Cohen suddenly spoke loudly, startling both Thales and Glov.

Even Leyok, who was in front of him, frowned and turned around.

Thales frowned at the other man: Cohen doesn't usually react like this.

"If it wasn't him...no, it wasn't him..."

At this moment, Cohen's expression changed, and he muttered urgently.

“Hey,” Golov patted Cohen cautiously, while glaring back at the few idlers who had been drawn in from afar:

"Are you alright..."

Cohen suddenly looked up!

"When you turned the tide in Valhalla, forcing all sides to cease hostilities and withdraw their troops, Your Highness."

The guard stared intently at Thales, as if searching for some answer:
"Were they—the people of Exter—swayed by your words?"

Thales was taken aback.

Exter people...

But Cohen shook his head, his expression bitter.

My husband's reply was this: 'Words are merely expression; actions reveal one's true intentions.'

"As for 'eloquent words can bewitch the mind,' that is just a beautiful fantasy of writers."

Thales' expression changed, and he hesitated to speak.

“He said it wasn’t your words that swayed the Exter people, Your Highness,” the guard said, bowing his head in dejection.

"It is their true thoughts, their personal experiences, and their interests—you are simply the one who lifts the curtain and reveals their true intentions."

Thales remained silent for a moment.

“Count Turamy Karabyan truly lives up to his reputation as a descendant of a wise minister,” the prince sighed.
"If I have the opportunity in the future, I will visit your father."

Cohen's eyes were filled with struggle, as if he were going through a brutal struggle.

"I was very resentful of what the old man said back then, but..."

“Same here, Your Highness,” Cohen exhaled. “That fat man is very eloquent, but he can’t sway me with just a few words.”

"Unless something else shakes me."

He gazed wistfully at the narrow alley, which seemed to stretch endlessly into the distance.

Thales looked at him and sighed inwardly.

“I refuse to admit it, but,” Cohen hesitated for a moment, then finally mustered his courage and spoke decisively:
"Yes, my 'Sword Heart' has wavered,"

“My moves are becoming more and more skillful, and my sword is becoming sharper and sharper,” Cohen said through gritted teeth, “but the person wielding the sword is becoming rusty.”

"This is why I have been stagnant and made no progress for six years."

Thales frowned.

"Perhaps you should go back to the battlefield and roll in blood again." Golov scoffed, somewhat disapproving of his manner.
"Instead of going out on the streets every day to catch thieves."

“Jarren!” Thales gave Golov a warning look, and the latter fell silent.

"I was serious."

Cohen showed no anger, but his gaze was dejected.

"But what swayed me wasn't the nonsense that fat guy was spouting."

"It's myself, my experiences in this city over the past six years."

My experiences in this city.

Thales paused for a moment after saying that, and the memories of the abandoned house, like a dream or mist, began to linger around his feet again.

"Do you know, Your Highness, the little girl who just stole your money?"

Cohen walked behind the prince, lost in thought, and said:
"She may not like stealing money or extorting money, and when she grows up, she may not like to be a prostitute like her mother or to mess around like her father."

"But she had no other choice."

Thales and Grover both paused for a moment; the former thought of the abandoned house, and the latter of Red Street.

Cohen tripped over an irregular rock, but he didn't notice and continued:

“Under the example of her mother and father—or perhaps just her mother’s lover—she could only imitate them and become like most people on the street: shrewd, vicious, shameless, and narrow-minded.”

"When she grows up, she will only become another numb and depraved prostitute like her mother, or an idle and lazy rogue like her father."

There are no more roads.

Thales and Glov fell silent.

Cohen gritted his teeth and gripped the hilt of his sword at his waist:

"Because she was born here."

"Just like everyone else on this street."

Grover looked up, his face cold, and interrupted Cohen:
"Then let's do something."

"Do something," Cohen murmured, repeating.
"Do something?"

Golov sneered:

"Send her scumbag parents to prison or the gallows."

"Fighting crime and maintaining order, isn't that your responsibility, Officer Qing?"

But Thales shook his head inwardly.

Cohen took a deep breath: "Yes, but..."

"I……"

He paused, his chest tightened, and the words he was about to say seemed powerless to escape his lips.

Cohen shook his head in disappointment.

"What happened?" Thales asked in a deep voice.

Cohen remained silent for a long time, so long that just as Golov was about to urge him on, he finally spoke.

"Six years ago, Your Highness, when I had only been here for a few months, I was full of confidence and wanted to achieve something and make a difference,"

"Back then, I saw this place as a battlefield, thinking that my only opponents were the Brotherhood and the Blood Bottle Gang, their filth and sins, their darkness and evil."

"but……"

Cohen paused for a moment.

What you are fighting... isn't even evil.

Cohen gritted his teeth, shook his head, and returned to the present:

"So I worked overtime to fight crime, maintain order, eliminate injustice and illegality, and bring safety and law back here,"

"but……"

The transition word reappeared on his lips.

“In the lower city, criminals are arrested in batches, but new batches keep coming; hideouts are cleared out, but new ones keep appearing,” Cohen’s breathing became increasingly erratic, and his speech quickened.
“Those arrested are released within days, the streets are soon filled with illegal gangs again, the sealed warehouses quickly become cover for crime, and the number of bodies transported out for burial every year is the same, or even more…”

Cohen's words were filled with bitterness, even tinged with helplessness.

“Strict law enforcement and clear punishment—all of these things we learned in our political textbooks don’t work here. I don’t know. Maybe I didn’t study political class well, maybe my methods of preventing crime are too poor, maybe I should get full marks in political class like my cousin Deler, then I’ll know what to do.”

Thales listened silently, his mood somber.

But Golov remained unmoved:
"Catching only small fry is useless."

Cohen raised his head and spoke urgently:

"I did it!"

He stared intently at Golov.

“I did it. I learned from some of my colleagues, raised my eyes and started eyeing the big fish, like Morris just now.”

“I took down a Brotherhood leader in charge of beggars and cut off all his chains, but in just two days, a new guy fought his way up from below to fill the vacancy—faster than when the guards were vacant.”

Golov scoffed dismissively:
"That means his level isn't high enough. You need to find the source, maybe you need to get that damn black sword—"

"The source!" Cohen raised his voice again!
Golov frowned.

The guard stared blankly at Golov:
"You're right, the zombies aren't at the right level. We need to find the source."

"source."

Cohen was like an ascetic seeking his faith, gazing absently into the distance.

"As the guard in charge of the city, my reach is too shallow and too close; it's just a temporary fix."

"So I thought, I want to do more, more, more."

"I need to put in more effort, go deeper, and get more thorough."

Cohen took a deep breath:

"So I followed it down to the source of those evils."

But his resolve suddenly crumbled, like that ascetic seeking faith who ultimately collapsed along the way:
"And then I met them."

Glov and Thales were puzzled.

"them?"

Cohen nodded expressionlessly.

"The girl you just met on the street, Your Highness, was just a little girl," the guard's voice was barely audible.
"But here, there, and in other places, I encounter countless children like this."

A child.

Thales instinctively opened his mouth.

"The childhoods of criminals—could there be a deeper source than this?"

Cohen swallowed hard.
"Yes, zombie, just as you said, I took action, I intervened, like the most competent vigilant officer."

"Including dismantling their backers, punishing their scum 'parents,' cleaning up their living environment, and threatening those scum who want to exploit them—I hate to say this, but thanks to my last name, a lower-ranking guard would have mysteriously disappeared long ago."

“Those children, I sent them to orphanages under the Disciplinary Committee, or to adoptive families, or even to the Grace Institute of the Sunset Church. For this, I did not hesitate to face the hostility of the Brotherhood and the Blood Bottle Gang, the punishment within the Vigilance Department, and the disgust of my colleagues in the Disciplinary Committee…”

"I even swallowed my pride and agreed to attend a nobleman's matchmaking ball in order to squeeze some money out of his stingy hands to help some orphaned children and ensure their basic needs were met, so they wouldn't fall into depravity again..."

As they listened to Cohen's account, Thales and Golov looked at him with increasingly different expressions.

Cohen became increasingly agitated as he spoke, but then his emotions suddenly shifted:
"but……"

The guard seemed frozen in time; he stood there blankly for a few seconds before speaking again:
"A few years ago, I rescued an orphan."

“He was just over ten years old then, and I had the Disciplinary Committee send him to a workhouse…” Cohen’s eyes flickered, the color within them gradually fading:
"But a few years later, I caught a bunch of fraternal scum who collected black debts—they tortured the debtor's son with red-hot tongs right in front of him, just for—who knows how many coppers."

Golov's expression tightened.

Cohen took a deep breath:

"That child, the child I rescued."

"He was among that scum, fourteen or fifteen years old."

Cohen stared blankly and said:

“He’s too old, so I have no choice but to send him to prison.”

"Just like when we sent him to the orphanage."

Thales closed his eyes, then opened them again.

Cohen exhaled a painful breath:

"It wasn't just him; I only found out much later about the children I thought I had rescued..."

"The vast majority of them will reappear on the streets."

"Children who originally had parents and families... Heh, after their scumbag parents behaved themselves for a while, they would almost always revert to their old ways and continue to raise them... just like that little girl just now."

"As for the others, they couldn't stand it and ran away from the orphanage or their adoptive families."

Cohen lowered his head in dismay.

"You idiot."

Golov suddenly interrupted, and he unusually spoke at length:
“Most of the workhouses are no different from prisons—except the guards are worse. Sending them there is worse than sending them back to the streets to steal bread.”

Cohen trembled slightly.

"As for adoption, hmph, that's like betting blindfolded," Golov said coldly.

"If you're lucky, you might get some leftovers in the stables, which will serve as proof of your 'family' status to receive orphanage allowance from the Disciplinary Committee. If you're unlucky..."

The zombie tightened his collar and didn't continue.

Cohen frowned:

How did you know—

Golov interrupted him coldly:

"I heard that!"

Cohen frowned:

"Whom should we listen to—"

"Nobody!"

Grover seemed extremely averse to this topic, raising his index finger and issuing a stern warning:

"That's enough! Let's leave it at that."

Thales sighed softly.

Although Cohen was extremely puzzled, he didn't pay much attention to it and just sighed helplessly.

“Yes, I know about the almshouses and the adoptive families. I visited them later. These benevolent policies of the wise rulers have long since been corrupted.”

Cohen lowered his head:
"As for the Grace Institute of the Sunset Church..."

“Even more disgusting,” a deep voice replied.

Cohen and Grover were both startled.

They turned their heads, and the silent assassin, Leyok, who had appeared beside them at some unknown time, let out a soft snort, his gaze venomous:

“I had a friend who went in there.”

Cohen and Grover exchanged a glance, but Leyok ignored them and said coldly to himself:

“There was a very kind old priest at the charismatic institution who patiently taught him to read and write every day, to recite classic texts, and to learn etiquette and morality. My friend was young then and had never received such care before. He was very grateful…”

"Until one day."

Leyok gave a soft hum, a half-smile playing on his lips, his expression ambiguous, neither clearly showing affection nor dislike.
"That kind priest told my friend that, as a devout believer of the setting sun, the goddess's grace had once descended upon him..."

"It was hidden in his underwear under his thick priest's robe."

The others frowned deeply.

"The old priest loosened his belt and gently encouraged the boy, urging him to overcome all obstacles, find the 'vessel of divine grace,' and then strive to grasp it, cherish it devoutly, ponder it carefully, and never let it leave his lips, until he said, 'Let a mortal body produce miracles, spewing forth pure white divine rain'..."

At this point, Leyok burst into laughter!

"Hahahaha—pure white rain! Hahahaha! Right here on the altar of divine grace, in front of the sacred icon of the goddess! Hahahaha!"

He laughed so exaggeratedly that he bent over, but there was no smile in his eyes; instead, there was a frighteningly sickness.

However, everyone else, including Thales, felt only a deep chill and oppression.

“Your friend,” Golover replied warily and coldly:

"He relayed it very clearly."

Leyok's smile vanished, and he gave him a cold glance:
"Because he's not the only one."

Everyone was silent for a while.

Until Cohen sighed:

“I didn’t expect you to say that, but, Leyok: I’m sorry.”

“There’s absolutely no need,” Leyok replied curtly.

"Because the learned and holy priest master still misunderstood the oracle—years later, on the day he retired, my friend and he discovered it together."

Upon hearing this, Thales, who knew the nature of the silent assassin, had a flicker of interest in his eyes.

"So that's what they call divine grace, the sweet rain bestowed by God," Leyok lowered his head, gently drawing the blade concealed at his waist, his eyes flashing with a fierce light:

"It's bright red."

Cohen and Grover's expressions changed slightly, and they remained silent for a long while.

The quiet air was broken only when Leyok sheathed his blade.

Cohen looked up, sullen:

"In short, these kids go back to the streets, either returning to their old ways: begging, stealing, swindling, or even following in the footsteps of scumbags to make a living, imitating them, assisting them, or even aspiring to become them, because at least the latter eat well..."

“They either end up worse off—without the organization and protection of the gang, they’re like weeds, ignored by everyone.”

“I remember a kid spitting at me and saying that being rescued by the Guard Bureau was worse than going back to the Brotherhood. Even if he got beaten up more, at least he would have an organization and companions, and he could survive. If he was lucky, he could grow up to be as powerful as them and bully other bastards.”

Thales unconsciously clenched his back teeth.

“Because it’s the only way out,” Leyok said dismissively, having unwittingly joined the conversation.
"The only way for them to find their kind, to find happiness, and to find a reason to live."

"Instead of the so-called 'relief' of you upper-class people."

Cohen chuckled, his mood low.

“And almost every criminal—gambler, robber, swindler, prostitute, thief, gangster, or thug—has had a similar terrible experience from childhood to adulthood: sometimes an irresponsible alcoholic father, sometimes a morally bankrupt playmate, sometimes the impoverished reality of not being able to survive, sometimes the cold and indifferent social world, and sometimes simply this dirty street.”

"Compared to these, even the Black Street Brotherhood and the Blood Bottle Gang seem less ferocious and hateful."

The guard's words made everyone else fall into deep thought.

"Pitiful, hateful, tragic, and laughable. In the end, I still don't know whether they became what they are today because it was a natural progression or a wrong turn, whether it was a free choice or a last resort, whether it was voluntary or forced, whether it was deserved or an injustice."

“Yes,” Leyok was the first to speak, spitting disdainfully on the ground:
"As if we care about what you think, Green Skin."

But Cohen didn't care about his offensive behavior at all.

“We just, over and over again, put their scum parents in jail or send them to the gallows, and then leave them in a bigger, more chaotic, and darker vortex, waiting for them to absorb its nutrients, accept its rules, and grow up little by little.”

The guard's face was ashen.
"To become the new scumbag."

"Then we'll take them away after they've become scum."

"And then they wait for their newborn children to grow up in the same vortex, becoming even more scum..."

He raised his head again, looking into the distance of this dilapidated street, but still could not see the end.

"That was their own choice."

Golov spoke, his words tinged with resentment and anger:
"We shall bear the consequences."

“Choice, choice?” Leyok laughed maniacally again, the laughter gradually growing louder and more chilling.

"Ha ha ha ha……"

Cohen didn't answer; he just stared bitterly at the zombie, which only made the latter more annoyed.

"But they had no choice."

Thales, who had been silent for a long time, slowly opened his mouth, immediately attracting the attention of the three of them.

"They have no chance."

The prince climbed a few steps, heading towards the place he once knew best.

“In such communities, the socioeconomic status of the older generation limits—excuse me, I mean—they are unable to go to school from a young age, unable to acquire a skill, and unable to see a wider world…”

Thales walked past a corner he had passed countless times as a child.

"They are trapped here, unable to find normal, stable jobs, and can only oscillate between idleness and crime. They have no time to care about morality and law, and can only prioritize grabbing what can support their survival. They cannot understand ideals and dreams, and can only replicate the selfishness, narrow-mindedness, viciousness, laziness, baseness, and anger imposed on them by life in the mire of reality..."

“They don’t have the opportunity to experience morality, gratitude, selflessness, solidarity, and justice like we do—people who consider ourselves whole—and can only learn the true meaning of life from the cold indifference of the streets and the cruelty and horror of their peers.”

Thales sighed:

"Their poverty will only be passed down from generation to generation, and so will their crime."

Cohen's expression grew increasingly grim.

Golov's expression remained unchanged, only his breathing quickened, while Lyok crossed his arms and unconsciously walked along the wall.

"And when well-meaning people outside ask: Why is this so?"

Thales said sadly:
"People would hold their noses and answer with condescending disgust: because they are scum, because they have poor upbringing, because they don't study hard, or even because they are born that way: selfish, narrow-minded, vicious, lazy, despicable, angry, uneducated and committing crimes, all of which are their own choices."

The boy's speech suddenly quickened:
“People will say: We didn’t force them not to be self-reliant, forced them not to improve, forced them to be immoral, forced them to commit crimes and become criminals, right?”

The prince's emotions startled Golov, and the zombie hesitated before asking:
"Your Highness?"

“Some of what he said is true,” Thales said absently, “but it’s not just that.”

"more than."

"If we really want to change the status quo, instead of just comforting ourselves."

Glov and Cohen exchanged a glance, while Leyok remained silent with his arms crossed.

Thales slowly raised his head:

"And when their existence and behavior—all cultivated in this biased environment—threaten the freedom and safety of 'people'."

"People will then be filled with righteous indignation and say with righteous indignation: criminals must be hanged because they deserve it."

“People will say that as long as these scumbags are all killed, they won’t be able to harm others, and the future will be better.”

Cohen bit his lip.

"Haha, if all the scum are dead," Lyok sneered.
"Then what else can people use to prove they are good people?"

Thales shook his head, ignoring the other person's extreme views:

"Just like you just said, in the desert, whether they are orcs or humans, they all believe that as long as all the enemies are killed, leaving no one alive."

"Peace will come."

Both Grover and Cohen were taken aback.

“But the problem is,” Thales felt as if he were back in the prison of bones, Krasus of the Blade of Calamity, with Ricky’s words echoing in his ears.

"How do we kill those..."

Thales said in a daze:
"An enemy that cannot be killed?"

The crowd remained silent for a long time.

"So like that fat guy said, the Brotherhood is everywhere and will never die."

Cohen ran his fingers through his hair haphazardly and said painfully:
“Even if I kill Black Sword, there will be countless new Black Swords. They will take up his weapons, speak his language, and even bear his appearance.”

"This is our true enemy, an enemy that cannot be killed."

Leyok chuckled and tightened the black silk on his arm.

“Punishment doesn’t work, prohibition is ineffective, help doesn’t work, and charity is even more useless…”

Cohen's tone carried a deep sense of powerlessness:

That was the first time I understood: my sword could kill.

Cohen looked up blankly.

"But it can't save lives."

Even just one.

There will be another chapter tomorrow, probably in the evening.

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(End of this chapter)