Kingdom Bloodline

Chapter 638 Sharpening the Knife
In Xinghu Fort, in the spacious Xinghui Courtyard—commonly known as the logging camp—soldiers, guards, workers, and farmers gathered together, creating an open space, and the atmosphere was lively.

"Go, go, go! Give her a good whack on the head, yes, like that, float—whoa, that was a hard fall! It's okay, trust yourself, young man, get up and keep beating her! Oops, your sword strike was so soft, is it always like this? Are you living too well or are you hoping your wife will cheat on you?"

In the center of the open space, Miranda Aarond nimbly moved between two warriors—she was engaged in an unfair duel against two Starlake Guards members, Neshi and Bastia. The young trainee vanguard officer launched his attacks with unstoppable momentum, growing stronger with each battle, while the towering guards stood firm and impenetrable.

"And that guy, the one with the iron barrel or the iron tower or something," Sonia, the flower of the fortress, leaned against the railing on the wooden watchtower, waving her arms wildly to cheer on the battle below, "Don't just stand there, swing that hammer and smash it into her head! Hey, right—what, is that all the aim you've got? You think you can even pee into the hole?"

In the warehouse on the second floor, Thales sat by the window, oiling and maintaining the ancient sword "Warning" while watching the battle with great interest.

He quickly realized that although he was fighting two against one, Miranda was the one in control of the battle.

The female swordswoman from the Arend family deliberately encouraged Neshi to continue his attack to exhaust his stamina, while using her positioning to force Bastia to act as her shield and block Neshi's fierce offensive. However, Neshi and Bastia were not very coordinated and were hesitant, showing no advantage of a double attack.

In this way, Miranda skillfully controlled the pace of the entire match, becoming increasingly adept as the battle progressed.

She's different now—the information from her hellish senses led Thales to conclude that compared to seven years ago, her movements were chaotic and random, no longer showing a clear rhythm or style. However, whether it was Neshi or Bastia, in the moment of their proactive attack, they would find themselves in the worst possible time and position, giving Miranda the greatest opportunity.

It felt as if Miranda wasn't taking the initiative, but rather her opponents were rushing in, creating the environment and situation for the battle, stimulating a bunch of originally chaotic and meaningless notes into a vivid and orderly movement, waiting for Miranda to take the stage and play.

“She’s improved,” Thales paused his work, slightly lost in thought. “Seven years ago, her movements clearly showed the style of the Northern offensive and defensive school; the transitions between offense and defense were like unmistakable accents, instantly turning the tide of battle. But now…”

“No, although the style of the 'Pegasus' faction of the End Tower has a great influence, its Northern foundation is still there,” Marius said, sitting next to Thales, sharpening a short knife without looking up. “It’s just that the superficial tactical style has been hidden in a deeper strategic style. You’ll understand once you’ve seen more of it.”

Here we go again, Starry Sky Wang Yuyan.

Thales gave a sarcastic smirk: "So, you've seen quite a lot?"

“It was alright,” Marius replied calmly. “When I was just a greenhorn trainee, I did record-keeping work.”

"So, which battle left the deepest impression on you?"

"here."

Thales looked up.

Marius continued working, simply switching sides to continue sharpening the blade:
“Long ago, a master from Starlake Fort sparred with a senior member of the Royal Guard. I was ordered to assist the standard-bearer, listening to his explanations while observing and recording.”

A master of Starlake Fortress, a veteran of the Royal Guard.

Thales squinted.

"Due to the limitations of the conditions, they did not take action, but merely moved around on the flat ground to serve as a means of offense and defense. Their finishing power was like a fleeting moment, like a dragonfly skimming the water, stopping abruptly before they could finish, thus failing to achieve their full potential."

Marius's gaze faltered slightly:
"But in those short twelve seconds, the two of them moved forward and backward, back and forth, and every detail reached the pinnacle of their skill, or even higher. It's enough for me to savor for a lifetime."

Just as Thales was about to ask further, a chorus of boos erupted from the crowd:
Miranda deftly sheathed her sword, turned gracefully, and the crowd parted to make way for her departure.

Behind her, Neshi and Bastia collapsed to the ground, one exhausted and the other bruised and battered.

“The battle is over, Your Highness,” Marius said without turning his head. “Now, follow the instructions I have given you and focus on maintaining your weapons.”

Order was restored on the training field, and everyone returned to their positions, some practicing and others on duty. Only in a small corner, a few Star Lake Guardians were still gathered together, having a heated discussion, still savoring the exciting asymmetrical battle.

"Hurry, hurry, the outcome is decided, and those who bet must accept the consequences," Doyle said righteously as he pushed his way through the crowd, but then revealed a money bag under his elbow. "Before Marius comes down—don't cheat, I remember who bet how much."

"Damn it, losing two against one, what bad luck!" Fulatan painfully counted out a few coins and threw them into DD's money bag.

Others who lost the bet—including Rolf, who grumbled in dissatisfaction—reluctantly pulled out their money and stuffed it into their purses.

“I know she’s at Dragonbreaker Fortress, and belongs to the Fortress Flower,” Paul Bozdorf, son of Count Black Lion, calmly handed over a gold coin, “but I didn’t expect—keep the change—that she could fight two against one and not be at a disadvantage.”

"How did you bastards know to bet on her?" Custa asked, annoyed.

“It’s obvious she’s killed people; her sword has a lot of blood on it,” said Golov, who was at the front of the group. He refused the money DD offered and stared at Miranda’s retreating figure with a sharp, eager look in his eyes. “A lot.”

“Chief Miranda’s swordsmanship is quite profound, as I have witnessed before—but gambling is still wrong.” Wyatt looked around nervously.

“I don’t know the girls from the Aarond family, but I saw Old Kong take her as collateral, so…” Logistics officer Piloga shrugged.

“Um, actually I don’t know Miss Arend either, but when the Fortress Flower put them in a two-on-one fight, I knew Neshi would lose. Don’t ask why—” Komuto, from the winning side, coughed. He saw Neshi walking over looking disheveled and immediately went up to comfort her: “Hey, Neshi! You played well, just a little unlucky. Keep it up! By the way, it’s my treat tonight!”

The shortest description is someone who feigns indifference above the waist while happily counting money below:
"Prince Thales is up there, and he keeps staring at that girl."

Everyone looked at him.

"what happened?"

Doyle raised an eyebrow, hurriedly putting away the purse as if it were the most natural thing in the world: "This speaks volumes, well—His Highness is finally starting to pay attention to women!"

A chorus of disdainful boos erupted from the crowd.

“You’d better not let His Highness hear you say that, and especially not Miss Miranda,” Wyatt sighed and shook his head. “This is based on experience.”

"Of course." DD casually tossed his purse, beaming with pride.

In the second-floor storeroom, Thales, who had already heard these words through his hellish senses, calmly turned around:

"Thor, how many people in the current Star Lake Guard do you think could defeat Miranda?"

"I don't know—why Thor?"

"Tormond's nickname—guess it?"

“Nicknames should be approved by the person themselves, after all, the Starlake Guards have never directly fought Miss Arend, and battles are also greatly affected by the environment,” Marius said meticulously as he sharpened his sword. “When it comes to a one-on-one duel in the arena, a fair fight with each move countered by the last, I dare say that Golov and Doyle, who have received rigorous knightly training, are both capable of fighting Miss Arend.”

Thales raised an eyebrow:
"DD? Is he that strong?"

Marius did not answer, but merely curled the corner of his mouth slightly.

“But if DD were to encounter Miss Arend in the middle of nowhere, in a life-or-death battle,” the Watchman put down his sharpened blade and cleared the debris from the table, “I hope she will be merciful and give him a quick death.”

"So exaggerated?"

Thales frowned, but then his eyes lit up:
"And what about you? You, facing Miranda?"

Marius took out the sword protectant and smiled upon hearing this:
“Miss Aaron and I… well, it’s about even.”

"Wow, Thor, you've got a big face."

"Please forgive me?"

"Oh, big face, I mean 'big' in the literal sense."

"Your Highness, now that you say that, I'm even more curious about what it means beyond the literal meaning."

"Absolutely not, for 'curiosity killed Marius'."

"Thank you for your teachings, Your Highness. I will never forget them."

Thales let out a mocking snort, but the next second, he suddenly spoke:
Did you know in advance that he was coming?

The problem caught him off guard, and Marius paused for a moment while applying oil to the knife.

"What do you know? Who's coming? What are they coming for?" Marius continued his work, his tone calm and unwavering.

Tormund Marius.

Thales gazed at the Watchman who was most enigmatic to him, recalling the moment they first met, and pondered the identity and stance of this captain of the guard.

He was King Kessel's personal guard, appointed by the royal guard as the watchman, and the highest-ranking person by his side.

But what role will Marius ultimately play between himself and the king? Servant? Protector? Teacher? Watcher? Or—

traitor?
Thales stared at Marius for a long time, then finally shook his head: "Nothing. Do you know what I'm supposed to do now?"

Marius remained expressionless and calm:

"Sharpening your knife—you have to learn how to maintain your weapon."

Looking at him and listening to his ambiguous and suggestive answer, Thales couldn't help but sigh and hand the well-oiled warning to Marius for inspection.

"Alright, Thor, let me ask you this: in the current Starlake Guard, who are the people you can trust?"

Upon hearing this nickname, Marius also sighed. He reluctantly took the Imperial Sword and began to inspect Thales's maintenance.
"Why are you asking me this, someone I can trust?"

Thales raised an eyebrow:
"Because I'm the one paying your salary?"

Faced with Thales's answer that shifted the focus, Marius clearly wanted to discuss further the question of "who is paying the salary, you or your father?", but the Duke's menacing gaze made him give up the idea.

The watchman looked up and sighed.

"People I can trust? Your Highness, do you mean I trust them to be obsequious and hardworking, or do I trust them to be willing to go through fire and water without hesitation?"

"If it's the former?"

Marius brandished his longsword, his expression turning solemn: "The Star Lake Guard is the elite of the royal guard, handpicked by the best of the best. Most of them hold the title of Royal Knight and are all outstanding heroes."

They bowed and scraped, working tirelessly without complaint; each one a true hero...

With your guards, who are practically defenseless and couldn't even notice the prince being beaten up on the balcony?

Thales nodded, his expression rather intriguing:

"And what about the latter? You said you'd go through fire and water without hesitation?"

“Oh,” Marius instantly regained his indifference, his words tinged with listlessness: “Toledo, Donsin, and Tsuifanov on the command wing—they’re my old subordinates. Golov on the vanguard wing is alright, and maybe Morgan too…”

"Morgan, that old soldier with the perpetually grumpy face? Where did he serve before?"

"The throat-cutting guard of Blade's Edge. Yes, he's not exactly calm, but thankfully he's not responsible for warming your bed."

"Warm my bed, really?"

"Among the guard wings, I can pick Bastia and Kusta, and DD can barely be considered an add-on..."

"DD counts too?"

"Forgive my dullness, but I can't tell whether you're horrified or delighted. Besides, Vincenzo Italiano of the Logistics Wing is quite useful, as is Francisco Carpenter of the Punishment Wing."

As he muttered these names, Thales scratched his chin.

"Among your old men, Attendant Cassel and the mute—thank you, I know his name is Rolf—are both good. That Willow is also fine, just don't give him any tasks that require brains. In fact, don't entrust him with anything except sending him to his death."

There are only a few people.

But they want to take over Emerald City.

That's really reassuring!
Thales counted on his fingers, a bright smile on his face:

"Hmm, that sounds great. But are there any people, just hypothetically, who would raise the flag of rebellion for their master and not be afraid of losing their heads?"

They raised the flag and rebelled.

Marius examined the imperial ancient sword without looking up:
How much did you drink last night?

Thales pretended not to hear and picked up a rag to wipe his hands.
“Very good, then take all the aforementioned personnel with you, and pick a few outstanding men to leave behind as guards. Get ready, we’re going on a long trip.”

Marius was not surprised at all by the phrase "going on a long journey," and his words remained calm and composed:
"As you wish. No one else? Maids? Cooks? Stablemen? Star's private soldiers? And Granny Valencia?"

“It’s not that I don’t want to bring them,” Thales sighed, recalling the old woman’s cat-shooing stick. “Let me put it this way, if… I want the people around me to be capable, strong, intelligent, and fast.”

Marius nodded: "Then I suggest bringing Oscar Elson from the vanguard wing. He's from the South and is more familiar with the climate and terrain."

Thales frowned. "I didn't say we were going south."

“Is that so? Then I must have misremembered,” Marius said, weighing the warning in his hand. “Then we won’t take him.”

Thales stared intently at him, and after several seconds, he finally sighed in despair:
"Never mind, you...you should still take it with you."

"As ordered, Your Highness."

Marius twirled his sword and sheathed the warden: "Well then, this martial arts lesson is over—you've done a good job maintaining it, I mean, the thickness is still a bit uneven, but at least you've gotten the hang of it."

Thales stood up to take his sword, but paused the moment his hand touched the scabbard.

“I realize I forgot to ask a question, Tormund.”

Thank goodness, Marius thought to himself, he was relieved that he hadn't called for Thor.

“I’d be happy to answer, Your Highness.”

Thales raised his head and looked directly at Marius:

Is this scabbard any good?

Marius frowned slightly.

Thales pointed to the scabbard containing the warning sword, saying meaningfully, "After all, swords have always been sheathed."

Marius fell silent, his fingers tracing the scabbard.

"It looks like the finest leather, but you'll know once you use it."

But Thales stared intently at him:
"Then I'll be frank. Of all these men in the guard, can I trust you, Tormond Marius?"

Marius's eyes sharpened.

At that moment, the two people in the warehouse stood facing each other, both extending their right hands to hold up the ancient sword "Warning".

Marius remained expressionless and silent for a long time.

Finally, he easily unsheathed his sword:

"Perhaps you should ask me the other way around—can't you not believe me?"

At that moment, Marius's eyes were incredibly deep.

Damn.

Thales gritted his teeth.

If I don't believe Marius, then... well.

Thales stared at him for a long time, then snorted and grabbed the warden.

"I hope your swordsmanship matches your sarcasm, my dear head of the guard."

"Then you underestimate me."

"Oh? Could it be that your swordsmanship is actually quite good, but you're just keeping it a secret?"

“No, I mean,” Marius said calmly, “I’ve only used less than half of my ability to mock you.”

Thales pouted, clearly annoyed.

"Well, coincidentally, I also have a question I'd like to ask you."

Marius turned around, picked up the sharpened dagger from the table, and sheathed it in front of his breastplate:

"When you meet someone late at night, you don't like to use the front door, but prefer to climb through the window or onto the roof?"

At that moment, Thales, who was holding the warning sign, froze.

Marius squinted and crossed his arms:

"I remember telling you that 'sky corridor' would one day turn you into a meat pie?"

Thales stared wide-eyed, blinking with all his might:
"You, you, I, I didn't quite understand..."

“Oscarsson and DD were just lookouts,” Marius said calmly. “While you were meeting the fortress flower, Lady Satherley, Itariano was on lookout duty deeper inside. He saw you clearly through his telescope and immediately reported everything to me.”

Hold.

He really knew; he wasn't bluffing me!

Thales was furious inside.

Marius gave a soft snort:
"So, Your Highness, you wouldn't be so foolish as to think that Starlake Fort's defenses are merely a formality, would you?"

Who knows?

Right, you silly goose?

Thales realized what was happening and coughed.

"Of course not. Well, I know you're nearby, so I'm quite at ease."

But Thales remembered something, and his expression changed:
"Wait, so you must have seen Sonia attack me, but you did nothing?"

"Make a move?" Marius said nonchalantly. "Sorry, you have such a reputation, we all thought it was some new trick you were playing."

This pen is so annoying.

Thales suppressed the urge to roar:
Why do I have this feeling that one day you will kill me?

“In fact, Your Highness, I feel that this should be my line.”

That would be wonderful.

Thales gave a sarcastic smile, waved, and turned away.

Okay, that's the arrangement for now.

Next, he was going to the south bank...

"So, Your Highness, from now on—"

"Alright, alright, alright, I know," Thales waved his hand impatiently. "I won't climb the wall again. I swear, next time I want to meet my lover, I'll walk out the front door with a bang and drums..."

"I had Tang Xin put a safety rope outside the window."

Marius's voice sounded behind him, calm and even: "Next time you climb the wall, Your Highness, remember to tie yourself up first."

Safety rope.

Thales's raised hand stopped in mid-air.

He turned his head in a daze:
"A safety rope? Tormund, you..."

Marius sighed softly, resigned to his fate.

“We’ve been together for a while, Your Highness, and I know I can’t stop you from being foolish, stupid, sick, and a jinx…”

Thales's expression darkened.

Okay, this pen is really annoying.

"...Just like that day when I couldn't stop you from getting out of the carriage, or rushing out to duel someone without thinking."

“But I don’t want to order a coffin for you, Your Highness, or for me, or for anyone in this castle.”

Thales frowned.

“So, before you embark on this long journey, if you could have the mercy to spare us,” Marius crossed his arms and pointed his thumb out the window, “a safety rope?”

Marius finished speaking, nodded slightly, and turned to leave.

Watching his retreating figure, Thales was filled with mixed emotions and didn't know how to react.

Thales looked down at the warning device in his hand.

The scabbard was the perfect size, just right to hold in the hand.

Presumably, it's the same when drawing a sword?
Thales took a deep breath.

"Hey."

Thales called out to Marius.

“I haven’t had a chance to say it since we returned from the Palace of Restoration, but… thank you, Thor.”

Damn.

Marius sighed inwardly: Why have they changed the way they address me again?
Thales stepped forward, pursing his lips:

“I know I’m not an easy boss to please. I’m impulsive, immature, arrogant, and I always make stupid decisions that embarrass you. I’m almost terrible.”

“You can remove the ‘almost’,” Marius said, his expression unchanged.

This pen...

Thales forcefully smoothed his furrowed brows, took a deep breath, and spoke:
"But thank you for your help all this time, thank you for covering for me..."

Thales swallowed hard.

Thankfully, I didn't blurt out "wipe your butt".

Damn secret service.

Marius looked at him, a hint of doubt in his eyes.

Thales struggled to speak: "Especially on the day I stormed the Palace of Restoration, thank you for the manpower and contingency plans you left for me, thank you for your reminders before I entered the palace, and... all the things that followed, and so on."

Marius frowned, looking at him as if he were a lunatic.

Thales forced a smile.

Well, he's not really suited to saying these sentimental things.

The Duke, with a stiff smile, shrugged and mechanically turned to leave.

"Anyway, thank you."

“And the previous royal banquet,” Marius suddenly spoke up.

Thales stopped halfway through his turn:
"what?"

Marius exhaled through his nose: "You should thank me for this one more thing."

Thales realized what was happening and coughed awkwardly.
"Oh, right, and this one too, um, thank you."

"And the days in the Mindis Hall."

Thales had no choice but to nod in agreement: "And the days in Mindis Hall."

"And the day we returned from the Western Wilderness."

Thales closed his eyes and sighed, "And the day I return from the Western Wilderness."

"And the management affairs of Starlake Castle."

Thales repeated blankly, "And the administrative affairs of Starlake Castle."

"besides--"

"That's enough!" Thales finally snapped. "How much further do you want to count?"

Marius laughed.

"You're welcome, Your Highness. It's my duty."

His smile at that moment was very similar to his usual professional smile, which was polite yet subtly sarcastic.

Very similar.

"I dare not accept such a generous thanks," the Watcher said calmly, turning and leaving.

"Reward me handsomely? Forget it. I must be possessed to give you such a reward."

Thales gave his retreating figure the middle finger, swallowed the words "I'll leave it to you this time," and threw the tiny bit of gratitude and a tiny bit of guilt he felt towards the Watchman into the bottom of the River of Hell, praying that they would never be reborn.

Marius was incredibly efficient; by the very next day, everyone knew that Prince Thales was about to depart for a visit to the South Shore Territory. The entire Starlake Castle sprang into action, everyone busy preparing for the Duke's long journey, and many began to wonder about the Duke's goals and business—unfortunately, such top-secret information was only known to BB (pseudonym), an informant buried deep within Starlake Castle.

But Thales never expected that after news of the Duke's trip spread, the first person to come looking for him would be this person.

"The flower of the fortress is one thing, but she also thinks too highly of herself and is as unapproachable as rumored."

At the door of the Duke's room, Paul Bozdorf, the son of the Black Lion Earl, who was patrolling by, watched the aloof figure enter the room and sighed: "I was thinking of exchanging a few pleasantries."

While DD was eating a sausage, he closed the door and shook his head in denial:
"No, no, no, it's not arrogance, nor is it unapproachable. Believe me, no one is born liking to have a sour face."

DD swallowed a mouthful of sausage with force:
“For girls of this age, being aloof and cold is a choice made out of necessity, and it is also the best and most direct form of protection—especially for women who have to work with men. Compared to being approachable and smiling, doing so can save a lot of unnecessary trouble.”

Paul frowned
"how do you know?"

Doyle smoothed his hair and struck a dashing pose: "I wish I didn't know, but oh well, I'm just naturally gifted."

Paul scoffed and shook his head.

“You understand girls’ minds so well, you should be able to please them more easily and be very popular,” Paul stared at him. “But why is it that when I got to the capital, everyone in the circle said that you were flamboyant, promiscuous and dissolute, to the point that you had a bad reputation, and that good unmarried girls from good families kept their distance from you?”

Upon hearing this, DD's smile froze.

But in just two seconds, his expression changed, and he turned around, winking and making faces.

"Hey, that's because you don't understand the appeal of mature women."

Paul was speechless for a moment.

“But she is not yet married,” Paul pondered, “it’s rather inappropriate to approach Prince Thales privately at this time…”

DD's expression turned serious.

“Oh, you don’t need to worry about that. Ha, I asked Wyah—well, the ‘real Wyah,’ oh, you don’t know what the real Wyah is, it doesn’t matter, it’s Wyah anyway—first of all, His Highness and the others are old acquaintances, they fought side by side together.”

"Secondly, as you've probably noticed, she's not one of those rich heiresses whose minds are only filled with romance."

Doyle blinked, chewed and swallowed the last bite of sausage, confident and resolute:
"So I'm certain of one thing: if she and His Highness met at this time, they definitely wouldn't be talking about any sentimental matters of love, marriage, or romance!"

inside the room.

"Miranda?"

Thales, who was copying the sunset scripture (rushing to finish his homework before class), was both surprised and delighted when he saw the person who came.

Before him, the aloof female swordswoman unabashedly picked up the cup of tea he hadn't yet drunk from the desk:
"Miss."

"what?"

“It is Lady Aaron,” Miranda said coldly. “You are a prince, so you should address me properly.”

Thales's face darkened.

Really? Again?
Your boyfriend messed with me, wasn't that enough? You want to mess with me too?

“Very well, Your Excellency Miranda Aarond, daughter of the Duke of the North, a glorious descendant of the Snowhawk family, the proud chief of the Pegasus in the Tower of Endings, the Winterless Sword of the Coldhold, the Falcon of the Dragonslayer Fortress,” Thales had no choice but to push aside the scriptures, lean back, prop his feet up on the newly made carpenter’s chair, and say with a helpless and bored smile:
"You've graced us with your presence; is there anything I can do for you?"

Miranda put down her teacup expressionlessly and stood before his desk, like a sharp blade in the snow, cold and piercing.

"some."

Miranda stared intently at him, her eyes unreadable.

A few seconds later, she took a deep breath, her gaze resolute:
Do you want to marry me?

With a bang, the chair leg broke, and Thales landed hard on his backside on the floor.

(End of this chapter)