Kingdom’s Bloodline Chapter 82: We won

In the Palace of Heroic Spirits, two men covered in pain supported each other and limped forward.

The man on the left has a round face and is dragging a ferocious black spear, while the man on the right has a pale face and holds a white machete.

Both of them have a gloomy expression, as if they are hiding an inevitable sadness in their hearts.

Rapid footsteps sounded in front of the corridor.

A dozen or so black-sand-collared fighters appeared in front of them, with murderous aura and sharp movements.

The man on the right snorted painfully after he affected the injury on his left shoulder.

"Speaking of which, the little prince asked me privately..."

"Do you hate Your Majesty?" Nicolai ignored the enemy he encountered suddenly. He glanced at the black spear and asked the same dying Mike:

"After him...?"

Milk dragged his severely injured thigh, only feeling that the Soul Slaughter Gun in his hand was getting heavier and heavier.

At the same time, the domineering old king and the majestic prince appeared in front of him.

"I have no right to hate him," the former official said with a strained face, "I owe him too much."

Nicolai glanced at the enemies who were leaning towards them, his mouth curled upward.

"You know, old friend."

"I always think you are a homosexual—inseparable from Prince Suril," the meteorite patted Mike on the shoulder and pushed him away, "until he knew you had **** his wife."

Milk stiffened for a moment.

"Do you have to mention this?" Mike asked bitterly.

The black-sand-collared soldiers opened their formation, raised their weapons cautiously, and slowly surrounded the two scarred men.

Nicolai chuckled lightly, his expression open-minded.

"Then you should struggle to live."

Nicolai held down Mike's shoulders, blocking him behind him, facing the enemy in front of him.

The meteorite raised the Soulbreaker Blade, feeling the muscles that were almost uncontrollable under the severe injury, and said silently: "Even for your Madam Adele."

Melke looked at Nicolai's back with complicated eyes.

In a few seconds.

"Don't always think of leaving your comrades behind, being a hero alone," Mike didn't hesitate to stand on the ground with the Soul Slaughter Spear, dragging his wounded leg to stand beside Nicolai, and face him with him. To the enemy: "Back then, didn't Caslan have enough whips?"

This time, it was Nicolai's turn to fall silent.

The meteorite lowered his head and sneered.

Melke couldn't help but curl his mouth as he recalled the past.

A few seconds later, both of them laughed boldly.

The half-encirclement of the black sand collar has taken shape, and the enemies look fierce: "Be careful with that gun... attack their wounds."

The two who were seriously injured did not speak, but raised their weapons to prepare for what might be the last battle in their lives.

Just now.

"Beep--"

A stern horn sounded clearly and distinctly from the center of the Palace of Valor.

Nicolai and Mike are all taken aback!

This is...

"Beep--"

The soldiers in the black sand collar looked at each other suspiciously.

It seems to have heard the most incredible command.

————

In the stern sound of the trumpet, Tulha pulled Cohen's collar and looked up in shock.

"Impossible," the Burning Knight put down the guard in his hand and murmured: "This is..."

Cohen opened his eyes in a daze, feeling the pain and strength all over his body-his right arm started to hurt again.

He lost.

He has tried his best to fight, and he has seized every opportunity, obviously...

This is the first time he has experienced the powerlessness when facing extreme conditions.

But it's nothing.

In the dim vision of the police officer, the young figure lying on the ground was motionless and lifeless.

Raphael.

Tears blurred Cohen's eyes.

How come...

Cohen looked tremblingly at the puzzled Tuleha, and then at his sword on the ground.

The weapon that pierced Raphael's heart.

"Weight Bearer".

No.

No!

Cohen was crying in pain in his heart.

There was blood in his eyes.

The heat of the rising sun saber attacked his skin, and Cohen seemed to be back in the scorching desert.

The voice of the veteran seemed to ring again in my ears:

"Young Master, do you want to kill that orc, that monster, and give revenge to all of them?"

"Do you want to get out of here and go back alive?"

"First of all, you have to change yourself and discard some burdens: become a real monster."

"Just like them."

Cohen's pupils gradually focused, and the blood in front of his eyes thickened.

Become...

Same as them...

Monster...

The next second, the brilliance of stars inside Cohen burst out.

Tulha lowered his head subconsciously.

I saw the dying police officer with a fierce look, roaring and stretching out his star-lit hands!

Tulha was surprised!

Cohen grabbed Tuleha's arm tightly and flicked!

The knight reacted extremely quickly and flicked the sun saber in his hand.

But Cohen's momentary explosion exceeded his estimate.

The vigilante struck hard from the ground, and a head mallet hit the fire knight's chest!

Boom!

Kill him.

Tear him apart.

Tulha snorted and took two steps backwards, surprised that his opponent still had room to attack.

The two got too close, and the sun saber could only be brushed over Cohen's shoulder, and there was a sizzle of cooked meat.

A flame suddenly ignited on the guard's shoulder.

But Cohen ignored him with red eyes, roaring to take a step forward.

Just like a beast, hit Tuleha against the wall!

Cut him off.

Chew him.

The Burning Knight's saber was pulled back, but Cohen held it on his wrist.

The blade only had time to burn a terrible wound on the side of the guard's neck.

"Ah!"

In the extreme pain, Cohen, who was burning on his left shoulder, roared and pressed Tuleha's arms firmly.

He felt the brilliance of the stars coming from the heart gushing out regardless of the cost.

The seemingly endless energy fills his muscles, expands and contracts tendons, numbs nerves, and makes him feel no fatigue and pain in his body.

That’s how it feels...

This kind of pleasure...

His eyes are red.

There is only one thing in mind.

Like a...monster.

Monster...

An inexplicable and familiar impulse spread from the bottom of my heart.

Break him.

Destroy him.

He felt the throbbing from his heart, faster and more trembling.

Step by step approaching the limit of heart load.

"On the battlefield, some veterans are unremarkable," Tuleha, who was caught off guard, was expressionless: "But once I see the blood..."

"You will become a demon on the battlefield, even your personality has changed."

As soon as the voice fell, Tuleha responded with a head hammer!

He took the opportunity to hit another knee and knocked Cohen at the end of the crossbow three meters away and fell heavily.

"Ah..." Cohen roared and struggled to get up.

He raised his head with a grin, looked at his opponent frantically, and reached out to pat the flames on his shoulders.

He just felt that the blood in his whole body was surging, and the pleasure continued.

Hunt him.

Grind him.

Amidst the trumpets lingering in his ears, Tulha walked up to Cohen and looked at the beast-like guard, his eyes fired.

The Burning Knight shook the blade in his hand, disdainfully said: "This is a good thing, soldier,"

Tulha slowly opened his eyes, and the madness and satisfaction began to burn inside: "Accept our nature as a tool of killing."

"After all," he raised his knife and grinned: "Humans are born to kill the same kind."

Cohen grinned his teeth, his eyes were terrifying, he bent over like a beast, and seemed to pounce at any time.

Monster...

Abandon... cumbersome...

Like a...monster...

Cohen's red eyes ran across the opponent's weapons and limbs, and across the "bearer" sword on the ground.

Almost like instinct, he instantly thought out the path and method of attack.

Kill him!

Tear him apart!

Just now.

A hand was placed on Cohen's shoulder.

The highly nervous Cohen shuddered suddenly, and he was about to turn his head back!

"Relax."

"It seems to be the armistice of the black sand collar." A light, weak voice sounded from behind him.

Hearing this sound, Cohen and Tuleha froze at the same time!

Although the sound is not heavy, it is full of confusion:

"That kid... actually did it."

At that moment, Cohen's emotions began to fade, and the red in front of him slowly disappeared.

The brilliance of the stars in the body also slowly declined.

The guard turned around trembling.

Tulha was completely stunned, his eyes staring in disbelief.

He looked at the man behind Cohn clutching his chest, leaning on Wiya's shoulder, and getting up with difficulty.

"How...how..." The Burning Knight stammered: "How is it possible?"

Cohen tremblingly stretched out his hand, took the other's arm, and held him, his face was full of shock:

"Raphael?"

"You...how do you..."

I saw a man who was pierced by a sword, a young man from the Kingdom's Secret Division, Rafael Lindbergh with a pair of red pupils open, and black veins surged across his face.

Like a black snake crawling on its face.

The Burning Knight stared at the young man's heart--it was as good as ever.

He swept across the ground again—the pool of blood had not disappeared.

It was impossible to stab the side...

The clothes are still damaged...

But...

"Impossible." Looking at the smooth skin on the opponent's chest and the strange black lines on his face, Tuleha frowned, solemnly like never before: "What exactly are you...?"

Raphael shrugged weakly, the black veins on his face trembling.

"What is it?"

"Burning knight, you said you... calcined and formed in the **** of blood and fire?"

Raphael smiled in the retreat of the black sand collar.

He pressed his body on the shoulder of Wiya who was also shocked, and the black veins on his face gradually faded:

"I deeply doubt this."

"You must have never seen...the real hell."

————

When Thales walked out of the Hall of Heroes in a daze, he almost collapsed.

The blade guard and court guards headed by Lord Justin, and even the Grand Duke's guards, stared at the young prince with strange and surprised eyes.

Headed by Viscount Cambida, the larger number of black-sand-collared fighters have sharp eyes, no lack of hatred and killing intent.

Many people have bloodied their weapons.

But Thales, whose expression was lax in front of him with two drawn swords, seemed to be free and didn't respond.

Compared with the things in the hall...

The prince gave a big smile.

Once the sea...

"Relax." Thales exhaled tiredly, and shook his hands at the people on both sides indifferently, as if they were just rows of clay statues.

"The armistice was blown..." The little figure limped past the battle formation of swords and shadows: "You didn't receive the order..."

Thyls is like a sailing boat that separates the waves. Wherever he goes, whether it is the black sand collar or the people on the side of the palace, they consciously or unconsciously make way to the sides.

The little figure of the prince seemed particularly lonely.

Thyls trudged forward step by step, feeling exhausted physically and mentally.

He walked past the puzzled White Blade Guard, past the ferocious black sand-led infantry, past the epee, past the crossbow, past the iron shield, past the scary chain hammer and page hammer.

But none of these can attract his attention.

Until the end of the crowd, a familiar figure appeared in front of Thales.

Thyls stopped.

He curled his mouth.

The suppressed heartbeat, which was almost stagnant for a time, immediately became cheerful.

Tyles raised his eyebrows and looked at the thin man in front of him-his hair was messy, his clothes were torn, and the traces of his tie were still obvious.

"Good day, Putila," he sighed slowly and curled his mouth, "It's really embarrassing."

"Good day, your lord," Putila looked at him deeply, nodded, calm and calm:

"To each other."

Two people, one large and one small, stood in the black sand collar, bearing the vigilance, hatred, or unrestrained gazes around them, quietly looking at each other.

One second later, Thales showed a reluctant and weak smile. He lowered his head: "Thank you."

"No, we should thank you," Putilae sighed, blinked, looked at the soldiers who looked bad around him, and said with emotion: "You just made it even if you are an extreme master, Horse, something that even gods and disasters cannot do..."

"We won."

We won.

Won?

The deputy envoy of the stars noticed sensitively that the prince's mood was not high.

"Ah," Thales shrugged, looking sad: "Where are the others?"

Putila squinted slightly.

"The armistice just sounded," the thin deputy envoy let out a faint breath: "Give them some time."

Thyls lowered his head.

Those people.

Those who gave up their lives to lure the enemy so that he could sneak into the hall smoothly...

How many people can come back?

At this moment, he suddenly noticed that in addition to the two groups of people, five or six people were standing far away in the corridor, watching this side vigilantly and calmly.

The leader is an old man. His cheeks are sunken, the bridge of his nose is not high, and his eyes are not sunken like ordinary northerners. He is closing his eyes quietly and calmly.

Tyles recognized this old man with only two sides-before King Nunn and Peffert duel, it was he who spoke out and scolded a few rebellious princes, and Thales' carriage rushed into the city Before the gate, he was also walking beside the Red Witch.

"That's..." Thales wondered.

Putilai followed his gaze and nodded: "Well, the prince of Longxiao City, the most trusted vassal of King Nun for many years, and the Prime Minister of the Royal Council of Lisban."

"When he and the chief priest of Haoyue Temple appeared at the same time, I was also shocked."

Tyles looked at the few guards beside Lisban, surprised:

"Leaving the army and following the chief priest into the palace alone, he is really courageous."

Putila smiled slightly.

"If you have learned anything during our journey, Your Highness," Xingchen's deputy said calmly: "Then I hope it is..."

"Never underestimate the courage of the Northlanders."

Thinking of Nunn and Rumba, Thales sighed and nodded in response.

At this moment, the light of the two moved together.

One of the four corridors leading to the Hall of Heroes, two people appeared at the end.

It was a young man ~IndoMTL.com~ and a mature man.

That was the guard who used to follow the Star Wars God, the star veteran who followed Thales in the birch forest, Jenard, he leaned on the shoulder of the recruit Willow and walked tremblingly toward this side.

The soldier with the gun was pale and seemed very nervous.

Thyls felt relieved.

Behind them, there are two tired-looking Blade Guard men: Nikole and Mike seem to be seriously injured. They support each other and limps.

A figure appeared in front of her eyes: the Blade Guard, the soldiers of the stars, not only their people, but also soldiers with black sand collars.

In the other corridor, the unhappy fiery knight wore a piece of light armor that was obviously damaged. His strong body came slowly, seemingly unharmed.

Behind him, Cohen and Wyah, who looked dispirited, and Raphael who was pale, shuffled and smiled at them.

Tyles clenched his fists.

A group of black-sand-collared soldiers came back carrying a stretcher and a short-haired woman who Thales didn't recognize, only to see Viscount Cambida's face changed and walked forward.

At the end of the team, the ghost of the wind struggling against the splint of his right hand, carrying the dying Miranda Allende, appeared in the field of vision.

The female swordsman was immediately taken over by Cohen and Raphael, who looked bad.

At that moment, Thales took a breath, then exhaled deeply.

Not everyone is back, but...

At least...

At least...

Looking at the people walking in the distance, Thales finally couldn't support the exhaustion of his body, and he sat down on the ground.

At this moment, the deputy envoy of the stars saw the prince close his eyes tightly and cocked his mouth.

"Ah, Putila," Thales said with a trembling voice, comfortingly:

"We won."