Kingdom’s Bloodline Chapter 32: The Kingdom is young

In the training ground at night, Thales sprinted forward, weapons shot, sword blades!

Two crisp sounds.

One after the other, two pendulums hanging in the air were flexibly opened by him.

Tyles took the opportunity to bully him and went through the gap opened by the pendulum, practicing his sword to stab the person in front of him!

Boom.

The thick wooden shield in the opponent's hand made a muffled sound on top of his blunt sword.

From the touch point of view, the effect is good.

But he has no time.

In the narrow field of vision of the helmet, Thales clenched his teeth, stepped back on the same path, and quickly retreated!

He will return to the starting point unscathed.

The creak of the rope swings.

The pendulum closest to the boy echoed, getting closer.

Tyles' nerves are tense, and he can only speed up the strength of his calf kicking the ground, trying his best to maintain a precarious balance in the retreat.

The Hell River's sin in the body felt nervous, they became restless, but Thales ignored it.

Huh!

The pendulum swept over his shoulder and didn't hit him.

Thyls breathed a sigh of relief.

Very good, there is only the last...

"Clang!"

Until he finished thinking about it, Thales felt a sharp pain in his eardrum!

His helmet was hit by a second pendulum and buzzed.

Let me go...

Tyles lowered himself uncomfortably short, threw away the long sword, and pulled his neck out of his helmet half and half, rubbing his ears, which were unbearable tinnitus and unbearable pain.

Directly in front, the primeval guard who trained for Thales-Vanguard Fulateng, who was about 30 years old, always smirked when the prince made a fool of himself-put down his shield and looked at the officer present.

"Stay steady."

Malles stepped forward, patted the white lime spot on the Vlaton shield, and looked at the two pendulums tangled together in the swing back and forth, indistinguishable from each other, thoughtfully.

"The strength must be ruthless, the stabbing must be accurate, and the action must be correct."

"The most important thing is not to be hit by the reverberating pendulum."

"If one of the five is not well done, practice will not count."

Marius took his gaze away from the prince who was suffering from tinnitus without sympathy, knocked on Fulaton's shield, and motioned to the guard officer Comuto on the side.

"Come over."

Commuto walked off the field and exchanged a brand new shield for the thick shield covered with lime spots in Fulaten's hand.

Thyls managed to straighten out the painful left ear and got up annoyed:

"I don't understand."

"Why is this training so rigid: you have to go straight up and down, you can't block with a sword, you can't bow and roll...just to compare the speed with two reverberating pendulums?"

Thyls looked at the metal pendulum rippling back and forth like a swing.

Thank God-or, politically correct, thanks to the sunset-not long ago, his static stance and confrontation training in his martial arts class came to an end.

But instead of sword target practice.

Thyls looked at the pendulum hanging in the air attached to the freely propellable wheel frame.

In the past few days, from pendulum training to piercing training, dodge training, spur training...

There are no fewer than seven or eight types of targets alone, and each type of training has multiple choices with different difficulties and various tricks.

Of course, the pattern of Thales being beaten is also renovated day by day: the helmet is deformed by the swinging pendulum, it is foamed at the mouth by the spinning wheel, and it is hit by the sandbags falling from the rain. I was covered in dust and dizzy by the out-of-order targets...

Say something he wouldn't admit to death...

He misses the dead face a bit.

Nicolae’s training is to destroy your confidence in endless setbacks.

Malós’ training is to kill your patience in boring repetition.

In the training ground, the accustomed guards looked at each other, and Pilo, the logistics officer who took care of the equipment on the sidelines, handed over the water cups to buy Thales some rest time.

As time goes by, even if it's (on) Wanji (class), the young Duke of Xinghu has gradually become familiar with his twenty-something Star Lake Guard.

In the vanguard ranks, I don’t know whether it’s due to family history or personality. Karen Glover is faintly the leader, while the "zombie" himself is introverted, reliable, and has no complaints (huge contrast with DD). It also won the trust of Mallos. The watchman entrusted many matters to him. Under the leadership of Glover, the eight pioneers under the Duke of Thales were all vigorous and vigorous, with distinctive personalities, and they were very similar to Tyre. Zoneved, the left-handed swordsman that Ssi had played against, included Fulaton, who is now training with him.

The six-person guard team is the closest to Thales. Unexpectedly, Danny Doyle, who is gagging and cynical, actually got mixed up in it ("Who doesn't want to be with the rich Friends of the local tyrants.”-Mallos inadvertently said during the meal), there are many friends and friends who are united. For the prince to bully the male and female, they used to compare the sword with Thales and rise from the police officer. Commuto of the Guard is also one of them.

There are six people in the penalty wing and the logistics wing. Gray Patterson, who leads the former, is a fastidious, bald old man ("Hey, do you know what that guy's nickname is "The Gardener"? Because, once) He caught a guy who had an affair with a maid in the bushes, and then-oh, hey Chief Patterson, you are here, my urgency, hehe!"-in thirty seconds Doyle meets Paterson at the corner).

Dward Stoze, who is in charge of logistics, is amiable, and often smiles and asks if Thales is satisfied with the food and expenses ("How stupid you are to believe that the guys in charge of bookkeeping and money management are good people ?"——Doyle biting the bread hard).

Hugo Forby, who holds the flag wing, has a gloomy look, but he seems to be out of sight, and he walks silently ("Probably it was hanging up a few years earlier. Only ghosts are floating in the air, but we don't know it."— -Doyle, licking his teeth with enjoyment), he and his two banner officers only handover with Mallos and rarely directly participate in the affairs of the guard.

And (according to Thales' malicious speculation) the captain of the "five-five" guard, the guard of the guard, the respected Wang Yuyan-ahem-Lord Tormund Mallos, with With the three subordinates directly under him, as well as the leaders of the above five wings, the complex and newcomers of the Star Lake Guard have been arranged in an orderly manner, and the work is smooth, especially when the banquet is about to come, I have to say that there is still such a set. of.

"Sword target practice doesn't mean that you can play tricks and make false stories."

Marius looked at Piloga not thinking that D.D, who was supposed to serve the prince, has not yet finished his sentence for the kitchen post-handed the water glass to Thales:

"In the past six years, you learned from the Northlanders a desperate skill of tricks and tricks."

"This may have spawned your end power..."

"But that also means exchanging blood for blood, winning in danger, it means going forward if you kill your eyes, and gritting your teeth if you slash the blade. It means no retreat, regardless of severity, half of luck. , Half bet crazy."

The watchman's eyes narrowed slightly:

"In reality, this kind of situation will only happen when the weak is strong and the chance of winning is extremely small. Therefore, if you don't succeed, you will become benevolent."

Tyles returned the water glass to Piloga, soothing the sore muscles.

"But more often, you will have a lot of chips in your hand, but you will face complex enemies and more constraints. You can move your whole body if you pull it. You have choices but difficult choices."

Malles squinted his eyes:

"At this time, what you need is not just the will to sacrifice for a moment, but also the accumulated movements, habits, concentration, calmness, keenness, and courage in daily training."

"This is what you are here today."

Well, Thales admits that Mallos can still abuse the meteorites at least on the lips, listen to this set of things...

As for the others.

"The battle is a well-prepared and meticulous plan. You must consider all aspects, take every factor into consideration, and be prepared, rather than just passing by, whichever counts," Mallos said leisurely:

"This is the insight left by the former guard of the guard. He is highly skilled and was once responsible for guarding Mindis Hall."

Thyls's thinking paused for a moment.

This time, the prince turned his head, with a complicated mood, re-evaluated the vast but exquisite courtyard of Mindis Hall.

The breeze is blowing, and under the shining of the unextinguishable lights, the Mindisi Hall at night is more like a tourist attraction than a serious and formal Wang Family Garden.

Former watchman.

Guard Mindis Hall.

"Your ex."

Thyls looks back:

"Do you know him?"

Unexpectedly, Mallos's eyes are far-reaching and thoughtful:

"Yes."

"I know him."

Before Thales showed a slightly surprised expression, Mallos leisurely added:

"From history."

After one second.

Thyls let out a breath and rolled his eyes.

You know a hammer.

"Of course, I know, sword target practice is boring and boring, far less fun than fighting against real people."

Malos took Thales’ water bag:

"As you have already learned, the three major schools of martial arts in China: martial arts, new wave, offensive and defensive."

The watchman turned his head and glanced at Piloga and Commuto who were in shifts to train the prince.

The two have changed.

Marius waved to the older logistics officer and the short guard officer and smiled:

"This will be enough to digest for a while."

Piloga and Commuto breathed a sigh of relief, smiled again, and nodded politely to the prince.

"But they can only be regarded as unique in style, far from the mainstream of today's martial arts."

"Well, when will you pass the first stage of the sword target practice."

Malos looks back:

"We will return to confrontation training. We have talents among our young men, who can show you and teach you the two mainstream martial arts that are dominant in the genre in China and the entire West, out of regional differences."

Thyls' eyes moved:

"Domination? Two mainstreams?"

"Yes," Mallos's words were full of the allure of grandma telling stories:

"The two mainstreams that originated from the age of empires and competed with each other for thousands of years, passed countless times, witnessed thousands of situations, and passed down to the present."

Tyles asked:

"And that is?"

Malles didn't answer any more, just shook his head and motioned to Fulaton on the other side of the pendulum.

The latter tilted the corner of his mouth, silently raised the shield, and returned to the pendulum.

Tyles sighed, resigned himself to his feet and put on his helmet.

Under the shining of moonlight and lights, footsteps and sword swings sounded again on the training ground.

Finally, after Thales didn’t know how long it had been, how many shields he had hit, and how many pendulums he had suffered, Mallos spoke out:

"Well, the actions these few times are good and quite qualified."

Thank God—Oh, thank the sunset.

Tyles let out a breath, stunned his sword.

Until...

"Then come twenty times."

Malos is full of spring breeze.

Thyls's drooping face tightened again:

"What?"

"But the pace, strength, precision, movement, including the **** pendulum...I have done all five items very well!"

The teenager protested indignantly.

"Yes, your highness, you have done all five items very standardly, so, in order to maintain such a good state..."

Marius smiled and said:

"Let's consolidate it a bit."

Thyls thought it was a long night.

Finally, after twenty standard pendulum stab training (including countless times more than it, more and more failed moves later, not included in the total), Thales collapsed on the ground, only breathing For the sake of it.

"I heard that'The Sea of ​​Rage' is a contingency for life and death."

Thyls is still lying motionless, but struggling to lift his head, trying to divert the subject and avoid the next ‘consolidation’:

"And this is the best training method you found for me? Exhausted me?"

"Does it really make sense in combat?"

Malles snorted slightly, motioning for the others to start cleaning up.

"If you really want to discuss the meaning of actual combat, your Highness, do you think that as the Duke of Xinghu and the Second Prince."

"How many opportunities do you have to go to the battlefield and face the enemy?"

As the Duke and Second Prince of Xinghu.

Go to the battlefield and face the enemy's chance...

Thyls, who was sitting on the ground, tilted his head and looked at the sky, frowning and recalled:

It seems like...

Quite a lot.

Majorian with irony:

"So, according to your words, why not learn how to blow the harshest whistle, call the loudest "help", and then wait for others to kill for you and save you when they are most urgently needed. Drive?"

Tyles twitched his mouth on the ground.

I think too.

I want to be beautiful.

"Unlike the ancient aristocrats who led their troops and charged ahead thousands of years ago, today, the existence of the martial arts class does not require you to become a warrior or a pioneer in battle."

"That's someone else's job."

Malles glanced at him:

"Our work."

The watchman's attitude becomes serious:

"In the royal family and even most high nobles, this lesson is just for you to know and empathize: In the past, the warriors who regarded death by your ancestors, in the future, the brave warriors of your subordinates..."

"While they fought for you and died for you..."

"You have to know what they have experienced and what they will face."

"In order not to forget."

Thyls, lying on the ground, exhaled, remembering the **** scenes of the past: Birch Grove, Broken Dragon Fortress, Longxiao City, Bladeya Camp...

Thyls sighed:

"Believe it or not, I know better than you... than many people."

Marius walked to him and appeared backwards in Thales’s field of vision, blocking the stars in the sky:

"I didn't mean to question you."

"It's more than that."

The watchman said quietly:

"Everyone, including our royal guard, has made such an oath, and also holds this belief: if a crisis comes, the battle will occur, and we will sacrifice everything and protect the master."

"But only one person can't think so." His tone suddenly became severe.

Tyles' expression moved.

"You."

Malles has a calm tone, as if he doesn't care:

"You must always imagine and prepare: what should you do when we are unable to perform our duties or even when we are not by your side?"

Can't perform duties, or even not by your side...

For some reason, Thales suddenly appeared in a dark prison under the prison of bones.

The young man closed his eyes and opened them again.

"You mean, when even my closest and most trusted guard betrayed me and abandoned the Lord?"

For a moment, the air on the training ground seemed to be still, and the guards who were on shift were all taken aback.

Malles was quiet for a second.

"I didn't say that."

But Thales ignored him.

"Will you then?"

The Duke looked straight at the captain of the guard:

"Maybe because of a better, higher reason..."

"Betrayed me?"

Fulaton on the side gave Mallos a subconscious glance.

This is not easy to answer.

But Mallos just looked at the prince steadily, without speaking for a few seconds.

Maybe it's autumn, maybe the temperature of the training ground at night is not high, and Thales, who is lying on the ground, only feels a little cool behind him.

"It's time for you to take a bath."

Malos’ voice is still indifferent and free:

"Get a break early."

"After all, in fifteen hours, your welcome banquet will begin."

"I hope tonight can help you relieve your tension."

Yes, welcome party.

Damn banquet.

Thyls sighed, then slammed the back of his head back to the ground.

The guards on duty began to pack up.

In the distance, a listless figure limped close, and another sturdy figure followed him.

"You guys are over?"

Doyle, with a tired face, came to Mallos, followed by Glover, who was usually expressionless:

"At least give me a chance to get close to the prince, otherwise my father tomorrow..."

Malios didn't even look at him, just walked straight forward:

"How is it?"

Doyle looked at Mallos impeccably:

"Don’t worry, I’ve been in the back kitchen these days, in the warehouse, in the haunted rooms of Mindis Hall, in the haunted rooms that have been piled up for hundreds of years, and I’m following Shi Tuo. Ahem-the servants have made a good relationship and sorted out the situation..."

"At the banquet tomorrow, at least no one can poison the prince and his distinguished guests—of course, I don’t know about aphrodisiacs."

Malles gave a chuckle, ignoring Doyle's euphemistic complaint.

"It has been coordinated with the Security Department, the Royal Standing Army, including the guards of the Fuxing Palace. There is no problem with the arrangement of personnel and positions, even after His Majesty leaves," Glover behind Doyle said coldly:

"No one can threaten him, let alone assassination."

Malles was silent for a while.

"Poisoning? Assassination?"

The watchman turned around and looked at Thales, who was lying on the ground looking at the stars in the distance, his eyes frozen:

"That's the thing I don't worry about the least."

————

Today is October 30th, which is the "Day of Pursuit of the Holy" to commemorate the first defeat of the orcs in human history.

It is said that in this traditional festival, from Jingbi Island to Devil Sea, from Sigh Mountain to Flame Haiti, the whole world celebrates.

Thyls still remembers that this is the "Fatty Sheep Day" in the words of beggars-on this day, the citizens all over the street are celebrating the parade noisily, regardless of the location of their wallets, the cutest.

Unfortunately, for Prince Thales, today is no longer "Fat Sheep Day", but his **** homecoming banquet.

Since childhood, Thales has only attended one banquet.

And the experience of that time is obviously impossible to refer to-the dignified Duke of Xinghu, can't roll up his sleeves and raise his wine glass, and yell "eat! Drink! Fight! Grass! Do whatever you want!"

But I have to say that until the next afternoon, as the host of the banquet, Thales stood under the statue of the Three Kings of the Stars to welcome the guests, that he realized how difficult the job was.

"Look at you, what a man."

The Viscount Paterson in front of him has an old face, and his body is only older. He, who is supported by his two nephews to attend the banquet, has cloudy eyes, but his identity is important. He belongs to the kind of VIP that Thales needs to welcome in person—he Ruling the Verdeburg area, it is an important eastern hub of the central government, and he is a direct vassal of the royal family.

Ranked among the seven servants of the star.

Among all the heavyweight VIPs, he was the first and arrived early~IndoMTL.com~ This made Thales, who was receiving makeup and dressing in the lounge, reciting the banquet process and various etiquettes, was in a hurry and had to Disrupt the arrangement and quickly come out to meet.

I saw Viscount Patterson tremblingly but unceremoniously pushing away the two nephews who helped him, leaning forward, and firmly holding Thales' arm.

"I still remember... Eighteen years ago, I sat in the Hall of Stars...Looking at your father, crowned king."

"Now..." The old Viscount gasped.

Glover and Doyle stood nervously around the prince, with their knees slightly bent and their bodies leaning forward, as if they were ready to fly out at any time.

But Thales felt that this was not to protect him, but to fear that the old man who was struggling to speak would fall to the ground and die suddenly.

"The prince has a banquet, cruel and ruthless, talking and laughing, the old ministers are in smoke"-this kind of news is better to be less.

Tyles maintained a smile, in accordance with Professor Ji Ni’s standard royal etiquette, maintaining a demeanor without losing affection, gently holding the chicken-skinned palm of the old viscount, paying attention to the other party’s balance at any time, and also gently asking His health (the Viscount is a little hard-earned, and his nephew had to repeat the words of the prince several times loudly in his ear).

Just like a standard Duke of Star Lake should do.

"My body knows it by myself, my lord, it won't last a few years."

"But it doesn't matter," At that moment, a gleam of light flashed in Viscount Paterson's muddy eyes:

"Because... the years pass by, but the stars are still there."

Tyles felt his palm tighten, and saw Viscount Patterson leaned down, and with great effort, he put his chin on the prince's glove:

"The Kingdom is young."

He whispered and gasped, gritted his teeth:

"The time is right."

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