Kingdom Bloodline

Chapter 704 Revenge
Centuries ago, Hyman Star, a "Southerner," entered the city alone at the most dangerous moment, fell in love at first sight with Miss Regina during the Election, and ultimately saved the kingdom from civil war, thus preserving the tradition of the Election.

Five hundred years later—sitting in the stands, watching the cheering audience, the heavily guarded soldiers below, and the contestants eager to compete in the arena, Thales couldn't help but think—another Prince of the Star, surrounded by countless guards and servants, was arriving at another election.

I wonder what his reaction was when "Southerner" Hyman, after changing his name and infiltrating the venue, faced the well-prepared, eager-to-fight, and assembled heroes from the South Shore to fight against the Starry Sky Royal Family.

When faced with a major crisis and the dangers of war, will he remain calm and composed, grit his teeth and endure in silence, act as if nothing is wrong and chat and laugh, or rise to the challenge with high morale?

Thinking of this, Thales sighed deeply: at least he wouldn't be like him, completely confused and full of worries, yet forced to put on a brave face and pretend to be calm.

Moreover, Hyman was not fighting alone.

Five hundred years ago, Prince Hyman at least had the powerful "Eight Fingers" King as his backing, the duke's eldest son who spoke out for justice with clear likes and dislikes, and the wise Miss Regina to offer advice. The Duke of Cork he faced was also a prudent and steady old minister—at least in the story.

But what about Thales Shining Star, now in Emerald City? What are his backings, his allies, and the opponents he faces?

“Your security chief has just been murdered, Your Highness,” Jann’s voice came from the seat to his right, calm but shrewd, “and you are now a suspect embroiled in rumors. If I were you, I would have kept a low profile, for example, by accepting the protection of Captain Seychelles, having you escorted by heavy guard to a secluded stand, and attending the election with caution…”

“Protect? Escort?” Thales looked at the workers diligently preparing in the arena. “You mean, semi-forced kidnapping and house arrest?”

But Jann ignored him: "...instead of turning around and getting involved with my sister, conspicuously squeezing into the Duke's stands."

"Get together? Get together?" Hilly's head popped out from Jann's right side, glaring at his brother resentfully.

Jan turned and glared at his sister with an unprecedentedly stern and solemn expression.

"The Seychelles knight craves status, but he's not the kind of person who would bow down to the powerful and give you a break at a crucial moment—especially in front of outsiders. So what weakness of his do you have in mind? Power? Wealth? His wife and children? Or are you going to perform a striptease for him?"

Thales paused when he heard this, just as he was about to pick up his teacup.

“Even simpler,” Hilly scoffed, completely oblivious to the sarcasm, “exchange pieces.”

Jann turned his head following Hilla's gaze, turning to the guards below the stands: the Star Lake Guard and the Emerald Legion, led by Hugo and Seychelles respectively, stood in two separate rows, wary of each other, clearly distinct. Only one knight sat in the middle, holding his sword, staring blankly at the tents prepared for the participants in the arena, his gaze complex.

"That's Knight Cassien? I understand. If a fight breaks out, Seychelles isn't confident he can defeat him in front of his subordinates, which would damage his prestige. So he simply seized the opportunity to back down... But how did you convince Cassien to come out of seclusion?"

Jenn frowned, then waved to the audience diagonally opposite him, which was met with another round of applause.
"Did you also threaten him, saying that if he didn't come out of the mountains, you would perform a striptease in public?"

Thales held up his teacup and let out a long sigh.

Why is this guy so concerned about this?

"For the sake of the sunset, brother, just one question: is it okay or not?"

Hilly raised an eyebrow, took Jann's arm, and smiled sweetly, but the words that slipped out from between her teeth made one frown:
"Don't force me to go down and dance right now!"

Jann's expression changed slightly.

"Shameless..." The Duke tried his best to maintain a normal facial expression, but he was interrupted by the surging cheers from inside and outside the arena just as he was about to retort.

The election is about to begin.

The Kevin Deer siblings composed themselves, exchanging unfriendly glances at each other before sitting up straight.

Thales finally breathed a sigh of relief.

"Sorry to keep you waiting, everyone!"

The election will be hosted by a renowned banquet emcee who studied bardship at Dragon Kiss Academy. He is standing in a specially designed hosting position, holding a specially made microphone.

"Do you remember, seventy years ago, when 'White Devil' Rek of Allenbia cleaved man and horse in two with his axe, even the earth trembled! Fifty years ago, when 'Fierce Slave' Mosago of the Great Desert and 'Red Demon' of the Night fought until the moon set and the sun rose, even the patience of time refused to yield! Forty years ago, when 'Righteous Servant' Mura of the Duchy of Sera fought three against one for his wounded knight master and died, even the most hardened spectators shed tears! Thirty years ago, when Prince Horace, 'Sword of the Light,' was unstoppable with ten victories in ten battles, the entire Emerald City cheered wildly!"

As is customary, the election venue is a spacious open space in the new suburbs—a depression with higher elevations on the outside and lower elevations on the inside, making it particularly suitable for large-scale performances and gatherings. Normally, it serves as a market where merchants and vendors spontaneously gather, and on Boxing Day, it is often booked as a theater for stage plays, or even a place for the preaching and evangelism of the Sunset Faith. Before and after the Emerald Festival, the Emerald Legion clears the area well in advance, and then the guards set up a cordon, while the workers work day and night to erect fences, build scaffolding, put up tents, set up passageways, lay carpets, and set up standing platforms, seating platforms, and various temporary stands three or four stories high, creating a rather large circular arena.

The inner perimeter of the arena consisted of different stands and tents for the participants, separated by curtains, parasols, fences, and even manpower. Although people could peek out from the stands and even talk loudly, and although merchants, priests, officials, nobles, and other people greeted each other warmly from afar, and although the servants in charge of logistics constantly relayed messages between the stands, the soldiers blocking the passageways, the guards standing in front of the curtains, and even the family crests or credentials displayed by the servants when relaying messages all emphasized that the hierarchy and order within were clear, distinct, and not to be confused.

"And all these classic scenes from our memories took place during our annual, proud event, at the most exhilarating moment, the most thrilling day, the most exciting occasion, and of course, a great opportunity to empty our wallets or make a killing..."

The host's voice, with its distinctive Emerald City accent and exaggerated drawling, was amplified by the arena's circular layout, echoing in the somewhat empty space.
"The Iris Elite, with a glorious history spanning five hundred and fifty years!"

The guests in the stands applauded politely, and many cheered enthusiastically in response. However, the entire stadium still appeared sparse and empty. It was the most remote stands, including those outside the fence who couldn't get in, that were shouting wildly, creating a deafening roar that shook the entire city. Some of the more drunk people even tried to light fireworks to add to the excitement, but were promptly stopped by the dutiful guards.

Ignoring the crowds gathered on the periphery (including those clinging to rooftops or trees), this arena was originally capable of holding tens of thousands of spectators. Even if it couldn't compare to the legendary Colosseum of Comoros, a wonder of ancient empires that could hold 100,000, it was still quite a sight for a corner of Emerald City. However, due to the sudden murder of the guards this morning, the election will be conducted with strict security measures in mind, limiting the number of attendees to less than 30% of the capacity. Many pre-sale tickets have been refunded and are now void. Security for the Emerald Legion and the guards is extremely tight, with imposters and unauthorized entry strictly prohibited.

But scarcity breeds value, and the rarer something is, the more people flock to it – nothing proves a person's status and position better than overcoming countless difficulties to obtain an admission ticket to the election (which is only available to high-ranking officials, nobles, and wealthy merchants). It is said that as soon as the news of the capacity limit was announced, within just a few hours, a standing ticket in the election hall, located on the very edge and only offering a view of the entrance and exit, was being sold for an outrageous ten gold coins.

(“Since we’re already here…” — A Far Eastern guest who laughed heartily, generously gave money, and then silently bowed his head, feeling wronged and distressed.)
Those who couldn't get inside didn't need to be disappointed, because the area outside the arena was even more lively: the area outside the fence was packed with people, vendors hawking their wares, scalpers sneaking around, gamblers opening betting odds on the perimeter, restaurant owners setting up tables to sell food and drinks, street performers offering tips, preachers sent by the church, and people discussing which merchant guild's sponsored fighter would advance to the top eight, what rare and exotic animals the ocean convoy had brought back, and what rewards the duke and prince would offer. The place was bustling with noise and activity, as if the real Emerald Festival was taking place outside the arena.

Compared to the atmosphere outside, the situation inside the enclosure was somewhat eerie: the soldiers and guards at the exits and passageways were solemn and tense, on high alert, wary of every arriving guest, including their servants; in the front rows of the grandstands, spectators with influential backgrounds brought their families, some sitting calmly and composedly, some exchanging pleasantries, and some cheering and shouting without realizing it, their behavior varying; as for the arena, the fully armed warriors warming up were either rubbing their hands together, brandishing swords to demonstrate their skills, some greeting their familiar opponents and exchanging harsh words, and some, with the help of their attendants, preparing themselves calmly and silently.

"Of course, first of all, we must thank our generous and wise city lord, Duke of the South Bank, Lord Jann Kevindir. It is thanks to his years of hard work and strong support that this election can be held, and it is even more lively and glorious than before!"

At the host's gesture, the audience in the arena turned their heads in unison to look at the highest three-tiered stands: the Emerald City Lord still had that kind and amiable smile, waving to the participants below the arena and the audience in the other stands.

"And our most distinguished guest, the heir to the kingdom, Duke of Starlake and Second Prince, the renowned North Star of the Western Continent—His Highness Thales! His presence demonstrates His Majesty's great favor upon Emerald City, and is an honor for all citizens and indeed the entire South Shore Territory..."

Thales and Hilly sat on either side of Jann, while the servants and guards were dismissed by the three of them early on and could only serve and protect him from the outside.

At this moment, the prince forced a smile and waved to everyone like the duke, but he found to his dismay that wherever he faced, the cheers stopped abruptly, replaced by people bowing their heads, dodging, and whispering.

"Look, Miss Hilla is next to His Excellency the Duke!"

"Huh, the three of them are sitting together, the atmosphere is so strange, it looks like..."

"Like a family? Pshaw!"

"Why is the prince here too? Didn't he just kill the people from Kongming Palace...?"

"The more this happens, the more he needs to attend, so as not to appear guilty..."

"My uncle said he knew the dead guard, and that he'd been being bullied by the prince for the past few days..."

"Shh! Stop talking. There aren't many people in the audience. He might be able to see us..."

"Interesting, they must have made some kind of behind-the-scenes deal."

"Stop looking at him, take a look at today's odds, have you decided what bets you want to place?"

Thales could only sigh helplessly.

“You know, Thales, the earliest selection of generals was used by Duke Cork five hundred years ago to select talented generals and recruit soldiers to counter the ever-increasing pressure from the Starry Sky Royal Family,” Jann said with a smile, waving to the contestants in the arena, his voice laced with malice. “Does it look familiar?”

"But in the end, they chose a brilliant son-in-law and resolved the crisis?" Hilly shrugged, bluntly contradicting him.

Jann's eyes sharpened, while Thales swallowed hard.

The Emerald City Lord took a deep breath, smiled, and nodded to the vassals on the opposite platform—Count Lacia of Zedi and his eldest son—making a sound that only the three of them could hear:

"Ignorant! You think that by behaving so promiscuously and without any restraint, whose reputation will ultimately be ruined?"

"Of course it's yours, and the irises' too, maybe even my father's grandfather's great-grandfather's ancestors... what else could it be?"

Jann's expression changed.

"You think you can use your family's reputation to force me to submit?"

"Oh, you can't imagine that."

Not good.

“I swear, Janne, I really don’t know anything about striptease or anything like that,” Thales interrupted them in a low voice, trying to calm the siblings’ argument, under the Duke’s murderous glare. “But in my experience, in public, well, she might really not care, and she might actually do it.”

"What's your experience?"

Jann's expression worsened, his gaze sweeping over Thales like a vulture eyeing its prey on the ground.

Hilaire, sitting on the other side, raised her eyebrows defiantly.

Realizing he had said the wrong thing, Thales could only chuckle and keep quiet for the time being.

"...And we must also thank the generous Fenxiang Merchant Guild, who funded the main construction of the arena for this election!"

The host, who had a task to complete, shouted as loudly as possible to keep the election going:
"And the Mbotto Merchant Guild, their sponsorship of the banquet, fireworks, and gourmet food made this election even more vibrant! Don't forget the Gadez Blacksmith Workshop; they provided many of the participants' protective gear, and incidentally, they're also one of the Emerald Legion's weapons suppliers—quality guaranteed! Thanks to the Zeka Printing House, we can know the election results even if we're not at the venue, as they were responsible for copying and printing the leaflets and documents! The Sangare Farm provided hay and professional care for the horses in this election, while the Emerald City Leather Guild meticulously inspected all the participants' saddles and protective gear—good horses with good saddles, riders victorious! The Harvest Casino provided reliable odds and betting information for this election; they are also the only officially licensed betting casino, with dedicated betting points both inside and outside the venue. A reminder: gamble responsibly!" Gambling without official permission is illegal, and the Security Bureau will not tolerate it! The Sanches Woodworking Workshop will spare no effort in maintaining all facilities during the election, including their signature large-scale fenced stands! The Medici Theatre Company will write a timeless stage play for the winners of this election, which will soon be performed in theaters throughout the Goddess District! The Tanganga Seawolves Ocean Shipping Company is professional and efficient, transporting all the necessary ocean cargo for the election via sea routes. They will also provide all eight finalists and the finalists of the team competition with free return tickets and five years of discounted commuter passes! And let's not forget the Emerald Legion and the New Suburbs Security Bureau; their combined efforts and selflessness have greatly contributed to the orderly conduct of the election, deserving our respect. Among the participants are two warriors they have selected!

Damn.

As Thales listened to the names of these merchant groups and workshops, he realized: it turns out that Jann didn't spend much of Emerald City's funds on this Emerald Festival, and he even made a profit in the end.

As the host introduced them, the two contestants participating in the first round of one-on-one duels appeared fully armed on both sides of the arena. They raised their weapons in the most heroic manner and accepted the cheers and applause from the stands (and the betting from the sidelines).

Jenn stood up and raised his hand to greet the contestants, who in turn bowed to the three dignitaries as they passed the main grandstand.

“Alright, dear sister, now that everyone’s watching, you can dance or take off your clothes as you please,” Jann regained her composure, completely unfazed by her sister’s coercion. “If you dance well, I might even get Ashford to tip you—I guarantee you’ll earn more than you would by busking on the street.”

Hilly's gaze turned cold.

The next second, she stood up and stepped down!

"Eh!"

Thales quickly stood up and grabbed Hilly!
"You, you're really going?"

But he soon realized that he didn't actually need to go forward: on the other side, Duke Jann smiled and took his sister's arm, looking completely at ease, with only his eyebrows twitching slightly.

The three of them stood up in a row on the stands, with Hilly sandwiched in the middle, her arms held behind her back by the other two in an odd position.

Jann's gaze was like a sword, sweeping past Hilly and piercing straight at Thales's hand that was holding Hilly.

The chill was indescribable.

Not good.

Thales could only chuckle.

"Will you... let go?" Hilly asked with difficulty, trapped in the middle.

Thales quickly let go, but to his surprise, Jenn also released Hilly at the same time as if he had been electrocuted!

boom!
With a pitiful thud, Hilly slammed heavily against the railing in front of her, letting out a painful groan.

"You guys, hiss..."

Oops.

Thales was startled and quickly went to help her, only to find that Janne also stepped forward. The two paused when they saw each other's movements and subconsciously withdrew their outstretched hands.

"They didn't even offer to help me up!" Hilly said painfully, rubbing her ribs as she gripped the railing.

Thales and Jann exchanged a glance, their feelings complex and hard to discern.

The surrounding spectators witnessed what was happening in the main stands and caused quite a stir.

Jann and Thales exchanged a glance, took a deep breath, and quickly stepped forward, one on each side, to hold onto the railing with Hilly. The three of them pretended to be peering out to observe the contestants.

"Speak, what is your proposal?" the Duke said coldly.

Thales raised an eyebrow, slightly surprised.

“See? He’s not just my brother, he’s the Duke of South Bank. We have to force him, force him to choose between the bad and the worse,” Hilly rubbed his ribs and gave Thales a weak smile. “Unlike us, he still has a sense of shame…”

Thales' expression turned strange upon hearing this.

"You need to have some shame first," Jenn said coldly, then smiled and waved to the contestants below the stage.

From the outside, the three people in the stands leaned against the railing, chatting and laughing, looking quite happy.

Just then, the host's voice and the audience's cheers drowned out their conversation:
"Enough with the pleasantries, let's begin the first round! Distinguished guests, step onto the stage to choose your warriors—victory is the only way out! Even for the sake of friendship—"

The host paused for a moment, then raised both arms, and the audience, both inside and outside the venue, responded with a resounding roar:

"We will not perish with the enemy!!!"

With the sound of a bell, the band began to play rousing music, and the first round of the contest began: a scimitar warrior from Hamburg faced off against the son of a knight from the South Bank Territory.

Fully armed and in full armor, they rode on their respective mounts, spears in hand and shields raised, charging at each other. After a violent collision, they both fell from their horses.

“A mediocre opponent,” Golov frowned as he watched the duel from the aisle below the main stand. “Such cumbersome armor, laborious, inefficient, and pointless—this kind of person is even participating in the selection process?”

The two men in the arena struggled to their feet, discarded their long weapons, and drew their scimitars and steel swords.

“A long time ago, the heavier and harder the armor, the better—back then, humans were facing ancient orcs,” Miranda said thoughtfully. “Of course, everything changed when all sorts of ultimate powers appeared, whether it was war, duels, or swordsmanship.”

“Then the magic gun appeared, and everything was about to change again.” Golov nodded.

“Hey, you know what? These contestants make a fortune from each fight! Or rather, their sponsors are rich—those two warhorses each have their own sponsor groups, oh, and their weapons!” DD watched the duel in the arena with great interest, glancing at the odds sheet in his hand every now and then.

"I don't like this atmosphere; it's tacky and boring."

Amidst waves of cheers, Paul Bozdorf stood in the aisle, arms crossed, his eyes glued to the competition: "Especially this host, who has turned the jousting into a money-grubbing spectacle."

“Jousting is all about performance,” Morgan said, showing no interest in the duel. He stared intently at the Emerald Legion soldiers opposite him. “If you don’t want to perform, that’s easy—go become a mercenary.”

“Yes, it is indeed a performance, but it should be explained like this,” Wyatt stood on the steps, his eyes fixed on Prince Thales above, “Knightly tournaments were once very popular. They were an excellent way for lords to win over allies, demonstrate their strength, repair their armies, and recruit talent. Of course, they were also an ideal occasion for wandering and mercenary knights to make a name for themselves and stand out from the crowd, providing bards with a wealth of creative material.”

As they spoke, the two warriors fought fiercely with their swords and blades, and the sound of blades striking armor could be heard from time to time.

"Slow movements, fragmented attacks, and they're still tapping the hardest parts of the armor," Golov frowned. "Is this a duel or blacksmithing?"

“I’ve looked at it. There are quite a few people who signed up, but very few passed the preliminary test,” DD said, holding up a booklet of betting odds guides with interest. “And most of them are adventurers, mercenaries, and foreign warriors. To be honest, not many of them have received proper knightly training, or at least are squires…”

“Historically, the Iris Election was a glorious knightly tournament. All the participating knights were top masters of their time, fighting for their masters and their own honor, and even for the battle itself. So many legendary names, so many classic duels…” Paul sighed. “But I think that kind of knighthood is no longer fashionable.”

"The old kind?" DD frowned.

“Those who were first called knights,” Paul nodded, his eyes drifting, “possessed extraordinary power, but also bore greater responsibilities. They had to ride warhorses and stand up when danger struck. Later, with the establishment of the empire, knighthood became a status, a class, representing the warriors who conquered the world for the emperor. To become a knight, one had to follow another knight, fighting and training until they earned merit and recognition. Later still, knighthood became a title, an honor, bestowed by the king, a stepping stone from commoner to nobleman. And then…”

Paul shook his head, glanced at the shoddy duel in the arena, and said nothing more.

As everyone listened to Paul's words, they lowered their heads in deep thought.

Koumto sighed softly:

"Regarding this, I've heard from the elders that the Iris Election was quite prestigious a hundred or two years ago. It was full of warriors, the kind who fought bloody battles. But in recent decades, not only has the quality of the participants declined, from the highest level to the super-level experts, and then down to... In short, the so-called winning knights are a mixed bag. Some are just pretending to be famous, some are immoral and do many evil deeds, and some have fallen from grace and made mistakes after becoming famous. Gradually, the Election has declined."

Everyone sighed upon hearing this.

"They were eliminated."

Everyone turned around at the same time.

"Since the 'blood feud' ended and the Self-Defense Law was enacted, wars between kingdom lords began to decrease. With the establishment of the High Noble Council and the Noble Affairs Council to arbitrate vassal disputes, private wars among nobles almost disappeared. Wandering knights and mercenary knights gradually lost their place, and the costly and laborious knightly duels naturally lost their former glory. As for the knights themselves... since they had no place to use their skills..."

After Wyman finished speaking, he suddenly realized that everyone was looking at him.

“The reading list for the Royal Guard’s entry test,” Wyatt quickly explained, realizing what was going on, “Scholar Bonner’s ‘On the Lord’s Right to Self-Defense.’ What, none of you have read it?”

The members of the Star Lake Guard exchanged glances, but Rolf scoffed dismissively.

“That’s right, that’s how it should be,” Paul sighed. “In fact, I’m surprised that the Emerald Festival still retains its formal traditions.”

The first round of the contest ended quickly: the Hambur warrior was unfamiliar with the terrain and not used to the dirt ground of Emerald City. He tripped and fell to the ground, and his opponent took the opportunity to press forward, attacking with his sword or rather, hitting his helmet. Although it was basically ineffective, it made it impossible for the Hambur man to get up. The latter was so dizzy from being hit that he had to throw down his weapon and shout that he was surrendering.

The losers were pulled up from the mud by their servants, while the victors, amidst cheers, struggled to remove their helmets, waved frantically at the audience, and were showered with flowers and even coins.

The crowd shook their heads again.

“I heard from a friend that the last glorious moment was about thirty years ago when the late king and his family came to Emerald City. It was the most grand selection of generals in nearly half a century. People from the Western Wilderness to the Eastern Sea, from the Cliffland to the Blade’s Edge came from almost half the kingdom. The place was full of distinguished guests and the scene was unprecedented,” Kommut broke the silence. “Whether it was the knights and warriors in the arena, the troupe and band in the seats, or even the young masters and ladies in the audience, everyone was fighting tooth and nail, all wanting to show themselves and their skills in front of the king and the duke.”

“The late king?” Miranda raised an eyebrow. “Wait, I heard my uncles and elders say when I was a child that they went to the Emerald City to participate in a tournament a long time ago.”

"But it is said that during that election, a winner impersonated someone else, bringing shame to Emerald City and disgracing the election," Kommut shook his head. "It wasn't a big deal originally, but for some reason, after that, no influential families or knights participated in the election, whether in the competition or as spectators. The lords also stopped bestowing knighthoods or recruiting vassals on the spot. In short, it declined year after year and never recovered."

"So the election committee found a loophole and came up with this idea: to let merchants invest in the election and profit from it?"

Wyatt frowned: A man holding a sign that read "Gadez Blacksmith's Workshop" walked into the arena and loudly proclaimed that the victor was wearing armor made by his family, which was of high quality and made of excellent iron and steel.

Paul shook his head dismissively.

"I think it's fine. Hmph, knightly tournaments, it sounds nice, but it's all about honors, achievements, rankings, and who you're fighting for and who you're dedicating your victory to. Isn't it tiring to make it so complicated?"

DD bought a bag of fruits from the sidelines and happily came over:
"Like this, everyone gathers together, eats delicious food, drinks fine wine, waves flags, cheers, and has a great time all day long. Some make money, some have a blast. Isn't that great?"

Everyone looked at him with disdain.

"They can be happy, but we can't."

Hugo's standard-bearer turned around and said quietly:

"Don't forget His Highness's reminder: stay vigilant, we don't want to face another Anke Bailar."

These words made everyone shudder, and they perked up again, paying attention to their surroundings. Even DD hid the fruits behind his back.

At this very moment, surrounded by the crowd, the three people who had returned to their seats in the main stands were having a rather inappropriate conversation.

“Alright, first, let’s make sure our goals are aligned,” Hilla began, his voice echoing the cheers and battle cries from the arena. “Right now, the King wants the Emerald City, and we…”

"How did you know?" Jenn narrowed his eyes, looking at Thales. "Did you tell her and drag her into this?"

As the Duke spoke, he didn't forget to give the most friendly smile to the stands diagonally opposite, and the envoy from the Republic of Tarhuna, Hashat, raised his hand in return.

Thales snorted lightly, with a hint of disdain:

"I've figured it out, you really don't understand your sister, do you?"

“I know you,” the Duke said, his eyes turning cold. “You’re always so self-righteous, yet you always end up trapping yourself.”

“I told you, Janne, they’re going to make their move,” Thales said, his smile barely audible to the Kevin Dill siblings. “And you, you still don’t know where the most dangerous enemy in Emerald City is, do you?”

“That’s a mistake only Yankees make. They mistake a dangerous threat for a harmless hostage,” Jann said politely, waving to a group of merchants in the distant stands, which drew cheers and applause. “But I know exactly where the enemy is.”

He glanced at Thales, a smile that concealed a dagger.

The other spectators noticed the Duke looking at them, and the local vassals on the platform all rose to bow to the three noblemen, except for the Earl of Pintor, whose face was grim.

The "dangerous scourge" himself sighed helplessly: "Alright, Jan, but you should know that right now, only I can help you in Emerald City..."

But Jenn retorted:
"Help me escalate the situation, worsen the situation? Just like you did with the Blood Bottle Gang?"

"stop!"

Hilly couldn't listen any longer and sternly waved her hand to interrupt them:
“Alright, round one over, now it’s referee time: Listen, we don’t know what the Secret Service will do, but none of us want to cause any major trouble… So, from now on, we have to put all the intelligence on the table and share it, agree?” Thales snorted, while Janne looked at her sister for a long time before reluctantly nodding.

"What do you know about Caquere's death?" Thales asked first, at Hilly's prompting.

“Not more than you,” Jann shook his head. “And what do you know anyway?”

“Definitely less than you,” Thales shrugged. “How’s the Blood Vial Gang doing? Is it still operating?”

“How should I know?” Jenn’s eyes flickered. “Where is Catherine?”

“Not a single place I can find,” Thales said, pursing his lips. “What’s with the rumors?”

"I don't know..."

Hey! Boys!

Hilaire, unable to bear it any longer, interrupted them again, waving his hands:
"Asking questions without answering them isn't how we talk, is it?"

Jann and Thales exchanged glances, each raising an eyebrow.

Cheers and sighs erupted from the arena as the second duel concluded: a serrated knife user, relying on the advantage of his tricky weapon, won the match and, accompanied by the shopkeeper, proudly circled the arena, introducing the craftsmanship of the weapon shop.

In the main stands, Hilly exhaled and made up her mind.

"Alright, round two, get up, get up, I'm talking to you, Jenn, get up and let me sit in the middle!"

Under Hillary's unquestionable gaze, Jenn reluctantly stood up and let the young lady sit in the middle, which naturally aroused a lot of discussion among the other audience members.

“Very good,” Hilla said, sitting down with his arms crossed and his gaze sweeping over the two people on either side of him. “Now, I will ask questions, and you will answer.”

Thales and Jann both frowned.

Hilly turned to Jenn:

"First of all, Caquere, what do you know?"

“He’s dead,” Jenn said coldly.

Seeing that Jann was sparing with his words, Hillary had to suppress the twitching of her eyebrows and turn to Thales: "And what about you? What do you know?"

Thales shrugged: "He died a horrible death."

Hilly took a deep breath and went back to ask Jenn:

"You went to see the Blood Bottle Gang, how did it go?"

"This is bad, chaos ensues."

Hilly frowned and turned to Thales:

Where is Catherine?

"A bad and chaotic place."

boom!
Hilly slammed her hand on the seat, startling both of them.

The young lady raised her head, revealing a chilling smile:
"Fine, I've had enough."

Her smile was rather eerie, and both Thales and Jann instinctively sat up straight.

Hilly took a deep breath.

"Okay, round three: when I take my clothes off, you all need to cooperate, okay?"

Both Thales and Jenn were stunned.

"Oh, again, taking it off again? No, that's not good, is it?" Thales looked at her dress with a strange expression.

“If you think you can threaten me with this twice…” Jenn’s eyes blazed with fury.

But the next moment, Hilly reached out with her left hand, grabbed the glove on her right hand, and pulled it out!
Both of them were startled, but Jann reacted the fastest, grabbing Hilly's right hand!
"what are you doing?"

Jann was both shocked and angry, and at the same time looked at Thales with apprehension, then glanced around at the stands.

Fortunately, the host was still enthusiastically introducing the third pair of warriors in the arena: a local black-armored foot knight against a red-armored knight from the Thorns.

Thales frowned deeply: Hilly's right glove had been pulled off, revealing a section of unsightly skin covered in burn scars on his wrist.

"What for? To show them the real me, of course!"

Hilaire was beaming, completely unconcerned, and even waved to attract attention:
"Let me show you what my hands look like, which I've kept hidden for so many years!"

boom!
With a muffled thud, the outcome of this duel was decided very quickly. The foot knight was lucky; his longsword struck right on the head, tearing through the seam of the red-armored knight's shoulder armor.

Amid cheers, the red-armored knight was carried off the field, arguing angrily with the armor's maintenance personnel.

"Oh, oh! Hilla, you mean taking off your gloves?" Thales suddenly realized.

Jan glared at him with hostility.

“What else? What did you think it was?” Hilly looked back at him strangely.

Thales realized what was happening and awkwardly rubbed his hands together.

“No, no, no, Hilla, I mean, it’s good that you’ve chosen to free your hands, show your true self, and be honest with everyone, that’s great, I support it, absolutely support it, I wholeheartedly support it, but shouldn’t we change the setting and proceed gradually…”

Jenn's eyes darkened: "He knows?"

"Of course he knows!" Hilly said impatiently, tugging at her hand but unable to break free from her brother's grip. "Stop pretending. You even know we were busking on the street yesterday, how could you not know he knows?"

Thales sighed, his head aching.

"Stop fooling around, Hilla!"

Jann held Hilly's hand tightly, preventing her from taking off her gloves, while keeping a wary eye on Thales, who could only offer an innocent smile.

Seeing that she couldn't break free, Hilly wasn't ashamed or angry, but instead raised an eyebrow:

"It's okay, I still have one hand..."

After saying that, she raised her left hand and bit the finger guard on her middle finger.

Jenn's expression changed again.

Snapped!
The next second, Thales held down Hilly's hand tightly, preventing her from biting off the glove.

Jenn finally breathed a sigh of relief.

At this moment, Miss Kevin Deer, sitting in the middle, had her hands tightly held by her brother and the prince on either side, attracting the attention of many people, who were all speculating about what was happening between the three in the stands.

"Hey!"

Hilly looked at Thales in astonishment:
"Didn't you just say you wholeheartedly support me?"

“Yes,” Thales pressed both of his hands against Hilly’s left hand, a grimace on his face, “aren’t these hands?”

Hilly's eyes widened.

"Enough!" Jann gritted his teeth and pressed down hard on Hilly's six fingers, preventing them from being exposed in front of others. "Whether it's a striptease or this, you don't need to threaten me with self-destruction."

Hilly chuckled softly:
"Believe it or not, Jan, I didn't self-destruct, at least not in my own way—I just forced you to choose between bad and worse."

Jann frowned and looked at Thales, his eyes showing a plea for help for the first time.

“Hilaire, listen to me, I know you’re trying…”

Thales took a deep breath and said earnestly to Hilly, "But healing a scar doesn't necessarily mean tearing it open again, leaving it bleeding."

Hillay trembled upon hearing this.

But just seconds later, the trembling in her eyes transformed into a desperate determination, and the young lady smiled slightly:
"You're right, I'm going to tear it open."

She turned to Jan:
"Not only that, I also want to tell you that back when Emerald City was doing its utmost to eradicate witchcraft and superstition, the Duke's family gave birth to a deformed daughter with six fingers. She was frail and sickly from a young age, raised in seclusion, and was even suspected of being mentally deranged and possessed by a demon. She was sent to the temple for exorcism. However, the Iris family kept this a secret from the outside world, disguising her as a healthy person for more than ten years..."

Jann's expression changed.

"Unfortunately, she was exposed. Due to Prince Thales's reasonable suspicion and repeated insistence, she will be sent back to the Sunset Temple and even the Secret Department to check for any terrifying evil spirits, forbidden secrets, or harmful witchcraft..."

Hilly talked on and on, and now it was Thales' turn to have a headache.

“Jayne, you know me, I, uh, I…”

“No, that’s not true. Yesterday, he knew everything, saw everything, and understood everything perfectly,” Hilly said with a sigh, turning the gun around. “Now, he has dirt on your sister and the Iris family.”

Jann's eyelids twitched, and his gaze toward Thales began to look strange.

what?
Thales looked at Hilly in disbelief.

"So I think, if he doesn't cooperate today, you might have to prepare for the worst, because he could be the last straw that breaks the camel's back for Emerald City..."

The worst-case scenario.

Thales' heart skipped a beat as he began to wonder if the Star Lake Guard would be enough for him to escape the heavily guarded arena.

Just then, the audience erupted in cheers again: this time, the contestant was a tall, burly man who roared and beat his opponent until his bones were broken, but he was still not satisfied until the soldiers pulled him away.

"Alright." In the stands, Jenn let out a breath, his eyes filled with exhaustion.

He released Hilly's hand and, unusually, gave the winner a perfunctory and listless applause.

“Cacquerre’s death was committed by the same group of people, just like the previous murders,” the Duke said grimly.

Hilly's eyes lit up, and she turned to Thales.

The prince sighed helplessly.

“My people found out,” he shrugged, “that Caquere may have something in common with the previous victims, and may be a member of some group.”

“Your men are right,” Jann said in a deep voice. “Moss, Diop, Rene, Slimani, Caquere… I suspect they were all killed because they were involved in the same thing.”

"See, you can still talk things out properly, right?" Hilly frowned. "What is it?"

Jann glanced at Hilly but said nothing.

“Jane?” Thales pressed.

“What did the King send you here for?” Jann didn’t answer, but asked in return.

Thales paused, but Hilly looked at him sternly.

Ok.

“That’s right, the task the king gave me, or rather, the task he threatened me to do,” Thales sighed, “is to depose the Duke, and by the way, destroy Janne and give him the Emerald City—money.”

Jann's expression grew increasingly tense: "Really? Not leaving any room for maneuver? Without Kevin Deer, who will he rely on to enforce the law and collect taxes, to help him balance the situation, and to help him subdue the South Bank? Will he rely on those officials in the capital who have never been to Emerald City more than a few times in their lives and can't even keep proper accounts?"

Hilly squinted.

“But! But I have the power to make decisions on the spot,” Thales said before the other party could become unfriendly. “I can act independently of the Secret Service and decide when to act, how to intervene, and to what extent to do things.”

"A decision made on the fly?" the Duke scoffed. "You mean, rather than letting me get out of here, you can at least smile and shrug off my dukedom?"

Thales ignored his sarcasm:
"Therefore, Jan, I may not be your friend, no, I should say I am one of your enemies, but in the current situation, among so many treacherous enemies, I am also your only hope, your only hope to get through this smoothly with minimal cost."

Jann stared intently at Thales, saying nothing, his gaze deep and unfathomable.

Thales sighed.

“Jane,” Hilla urged, “believe me, if you had seen what I saw yesterday, you would know that the situation is urgent and we must make a choice.”

Jenn suddenly raised his eyes:

"When did you start working with him?"

Hilly paused in his speech.

“You’re wrong,” Thales chimed in at the opportune moment. “What you should be asking is, when did I start working with her?”

Jann didn't speak, but his eyes flickered as he glanced at the two men separately.

Thales and Hillay remained silent, awaiting the Duke's decision.

The Emerald City Lord turned his head and waved to the sunless stands at the other end. A figure sitting under a parasol—Lee Corleone from the Kingdom of Night—appeared just before dusk and nodded to them in greeting.

On the other side, Yannick Hollier from Feast Territory also bowed to them with a smile on his face.

"Sister, when will you be able to make things a little easier for me?" the Duke said softly.

Hilly placed her hand on her chest and smiled slightly:
"Each each other."

Several seconds later, Jenn took a deep breath and looked at Thales:

"Immediate decision-making?"

Thales got his answer and smiled slightly:
"Discretionary decision-making."

Jann responded with a cold laugh.

The two exchanged glances and reached a consensus in an instant.

Only Hillary narrowed her eyes suspiciously: "Then..."

Thales took a deep breath:

"After seizing power, the Blood Bottle Gang fell into chaos, and Catherine fled to the Brotherhood's territory, waiting for an opportunity to strike back."

Jenn quickly picked up the conversation:

“After Caquere’s death, all the rumors they spread pointed to you, or rather, forced you to investigate the matter.”

“Lossan lost power in the war between the Blood Bottle Gang and the Brotherhood, but there’s more to it than meets the eye—he was betrayed by his old comrades like Catherine.”

“There’s another dead body,” Thales shook his head. “My men also found out that before Slimani, there was another underground boxer who died. His identity was different from the other dead bodies, but you covered it up for him too.”

Thales leaned forward, his eyes sharp:
"Who is he?"

Jenn remained silent for a long while.

“That boxer was called Bolwin,” Jann exhaled, recalling the past. “He was a decade younger than everyone else, but he was the key to me understanding everything.”

“Bolvwin? That Bolvwin?” Hilly looked up in surprise.

Seeing Hilly's reaction, Thales couldn't help but wonder, "Who? What's wrong with this person?"

Jenn nodded thoughtfully:

"What's important isn't the boxer, Bolwin, but his surname, his father—the assassin, old Bolwin."

Thales's gaze shifted, and Hilly's eyes widened.

Finally, a few highly skilled contestants appeared in the arena. They fought fiercely, even getting injured and bleeding, which thrilled the audience.

“Old Bolwin was a former mercenary assassin, highly skilled and expensive,” Jan said quietly from the stands. “His last job was to be hired by a high-ranking employer to infiltrate the Skylight Palace and assassinate the then-Guardian Duke of the South Bank—Lenst Kevindir.”

Thales' eyes widened.

Jenn turned to Tyles, his eyes ashen.

"Yes, he killed my father."

The arena erupted in cheers as the announcer passionately described how earth-shattering and unprecedented the battle had just taken place, but the three people in the stands paid no heed.

“I don’t understand,” Thales clenched his fists, incredulous. “Old Bolwin was an assassin who killed your father, so young Bolwin should theoretically be your enemy, but why was he…”

Jenn interrupted him:

"After the incident, old Boerwin was captured and, before his death, confessed to the person who bribed him, who was also the mastermind behind the murder of the Duke of Leinster..."

The mastermind behind it all...

Thales suddenly remembered something and was shocked.

“My father’s younger brother, our uncle,” Hilla took over the conversation, somewhat bewildered, “the former Viscount of Gonghai City—Sonna Kevindir.”

Time seemed to stand still for a moment.

Thales remained silent.

“And so, Viscount Sona hired someone to kill someone, but the plot was exposed and he committed suicide in prison out of fear of punishment,” Jann said in a hoarse voice. “And I was urgently recalled from overseas to inherit the title of Duke of Emerald City and South Bank.”

The drums sounded in the arena, signaling the start of the next team battle.

Jann took a deep breath.

“I believe that every premeditated killing, from Little Bolven to Caquere this morning, is related to this. They are making such a big fuss to stir up a bloodbath and make it known throughout the city.”

Jenn stood up, walked to the railing of the main stand, and looked down at the vast arena, his voice cold.

"And even with all my might, I could only barely cover up part of it, but I inevitably missed some clues, which eventually led you to this place."

He stared at the dark clouds in the distance, gazing at the Kongming Palace, which stood like a giant beneath them.

“That’s right. I suspect that the people used by the Kingdom’s Secret Service to deal with me this time are my uncle’s old subordinates and forces, those who failed in their rebellion back then and escaped.”

Hilly covered her mouth in surprise.

"This is revenge, a desperate and insane revenge carried out under the guise of royal power."

Thales frowned.

“To the Emerald City, to the Sky Palace, to the Iris, to Kevin Deer today,” Jann paused, “to me, even to Hillay…”

A sharp, piercing glint flashed in the Duke of the South Bank's eyes:

"revenge."

(End of this chapter)