Kingdom’s Bloodline Chapter 213: That 1 night

Cyril Falkenhauser.

Unwelcome.

Thyls looked at the Duke of Western Wilderness dignifiedly, looking at him six years later because of the increase in wrinkles and the reduction of his hair, which made him more crippled.

The six-year hostage life has given Thales a slight sense of alienation from people, things, and things in the Star Kingdom.

However, when this terrifying image, as if an old tree, the rich and powerful duke appeared in front of Thales again, and his sharp voice echoed in the ears of the prince again, all the memories of the past are at that moment came back.

In Wing Star City six years ago, the country that determined Thales’ fate was a conference, as if it had been yesterday.

The cold wind rushed outside the tower, and Thales, who was in thin pants, was agitated.

"The ruins are not close here."

Thyls tried to get rid of distractions and looked at Falkenhauser calmly.

Calm down.

This is Williams, the territory of the standing army of the royal family. He can't be against me.

Think about it, six years ago, in the face of the appearance of the second prince, what was Falkenhauser's position?

What is his character?

And his place is here...

The color of Thales’s face remains unchanged:

"So, what is it that makes a person with a position of honor like you come all the way to the bitter and tired, dirty and chaotic border?"

Falkenhausen gave a weird laugh, twitched his crutches, and drew closer to Thales.

"Your Majesty, you are really a newcomer and have no time to take care of..."

The horrible, withered face of the other party slowly enlarged in front of his eyes, making Thales feel uncomfortable, and he had to hold the dagger behind his waist tightly and resist the desire to retreat.

The Duke of the Western Wilderness stopped when he was one foot away from the prince, close enough for Thales to see his dry skin that seemed to hang on his bones, with fine wrinkles on it.

"Still in the dark from beginning to end?"

Unlike the prince’s expectation, Cyril suddenly stretched out his hand without changing his face, pulled the chair in front of the desk behind him, and dragged a long and unpleasant rubbing sound on the ground.

Thyles frowned.

"I guess, your complete question should be..."

The Duke didn't smile, and sat down in front of Thales' bed comfortably, pointing to the window behind him.

"When the princes of the Western Wilderness who slept in the camp, they lost their helmets and unarmed due to unexpected raids, suffered heavy losses, and were completely defeated;"

"When they went from command to logistics, from confidence to prestige, from on-court to off-court, they all lost cleanly and had nothing;"

"When many people lost the conditions and the courage to continue to stay at the Yaga camp, they retreated desperately and prepared to return home;"

"When Legend Wings returned with his royal standing army, stepping on the failure of the local nobles, re-entering the main blade camp;"

Thyls listened quietly to the other party's narration, followed his arm and looked at the buildings under the window:

Yesterday’s attacks and riots left scars on the camp. The traces of a certain fortress burned by fire are still visible. A group of soldiers blocked the surroundings and stopped a crying man who seemed to be the owner of the house, who seemed to be in command Clean up.

Across the road, another alley that is not blocked by soldiers is still crowded. Merchants, herders, mercenaries, thiefs, beggars, and prostitutes are all arrogant and noisy, and busy.

The humming voices unique to Bladeya camp faintly came, accompanied by the double-star silver cross banner flying high above the camp gate.

Disaster and vitality, destruction and reconstruction.

Nothing seems to have happened.

It's just another day at Camp Bladeya.

The sharp voice of Cyril Falkenhauser is just like his nickname, combined with his intentionally compelling frustration, which is disturbing:

"What you want to ask is, under the above circumstances..."

Falkenhauser smiles weirdly:

"What the **** is it, so that people like me, who are old and cunning, come to the camp with a prince and a special meaning?"

It's terrible.

Cyril's unpredictable smile and elusive tone, answering unquestioning, covert words, coupled with his powerful voice and appearance, made people accustomed to the northern part of Longxiao City straight up and loudly. Thales has a headache.

"Your Excellency, I have heard of your loss and I am deeply sorry."

Thyls, who was interrupted by the meal, beat his spirits and thought hard.

The Bladeya camp was attacked, and Williams won.

So, this is the current situation of the camp.

That is to say, Duke Falkenhauser, the highest status in the entire Western Wilderness, broke into his bedroom rudely and rudely, with the purpose of...

He pondered and spoke:

"Neither did I expect that it was indeed an unfortunate day. Please convey my regrets to your vassals for me. But now, I don't think I think Baron Williams will be happy to see..."

But Falkenhauser interrupted him.

"I heard that you like to play chess when you are in Northland."

Thyls was taken aback by the dumb words.

Play chess?

The guardian of the Western Wilderness Duke smiled sadly:

"Do you know what I think is the most interesting point of playing chess?"

Just as Thales was thinking about how to answer to end the conversation politely, and to send off the guests safely, Cyril suddenly shakes his left hand, and the end of his cane is focused!

"Boom!"

The long sword tied to the crutch shook.

Before Thales realized that the other party was just looking for a place to hold the crutches, he had subconsciously leaned over and held his breath, holding the dagger behind his waist.

Falkenhauser, who was holding the cane, seemed to have not noticed that Thales was on the verge of an enemy.

On the contrary, he smiled, leaning forward on his knees, and his thin figure pressed towards the prince sitting on the bed.

"That is...there is no blind man in the chess game."

"Both sides of the game can see, see clearly, and understand every piece, every square, every move."

Thyls finally adjusted his breathing and began to think about the other party's words.

Cyril, who had been staring at him, suddenly reached out and grabbed the dinner plate on the desk.

The Duke held the rich dinner plate firmly on his lap, grabbed a grilled fish that looked like a lot of spices with his bare hands, opened his teeth and bit it hard, not following the usual The dining etiquette does not care that this is the prince’s meal.

Seeing Thales frowned again.

"So, let's stop pretending that we can't see the chessboard--well, it tastes good. It seems to be the batch presented to me by the Lauteng family during the'Renaissance Festival'. It was played in Muhe."

Cyril chewed the bone-in fish in his mouth and nodded intently.

Don't pretend to be invisible to the board...

Staring at the opponent's extremely lethal face, the discomfort like a thorn on his back climbed into Thales's heart again.

"Your Excellency, what do you want to say?"

The prince stopped being polite and perfunctory, but looked at the Duke solemnly.

Cyril smiled, looking like his ugly face suddenly cracked.

While chewing, he raised the half-eaten grilled fish in his hand and pointed at Thales:

"To save a seemingly important guard."

Cyril looked out the window, watching the camp of Bladeya after a night of chaos, his eyes exuded a rare chill:

"A certain chess player graciously sacrificed a knight."

"Unexpectedly, that knight was the one who killed: it ran rampant in the formation, and was eventually promoted to the prime minister, but it had eaten countless foot soldiers, swordsmen, shield soldiers, knights and even sling crossbows." /

Cyril stopped eating, his eyes showed danger:

"Teach me, Thales, in this chess game, between the knight and the guard..."

"Who does the chess player want to sacrifice and who do they want to save?"

Chess game.

Chess player.

Knight.

Guards.

Thyls has a headache.

I am used to the rugged and ancient Palace of Valor, and I am used to seeing the heroic northerners. The guardian duke of the Western Wilderness who is oblique, ridiculed and unpleasant in front of him makes Thales very uncomfortable—— In contrast, even the Reconstruction Tower Grand Duke Tludida, known for his stinginess and cunning, seemed to be inferior.

The prince could only sigh, and tried his best not to look at the grilled fish that was bitten on his hand:

"Sorry, I'm not good at chess, but just a hobby in my free time."

Cyril gave a weird laugh, waves on his ugly face:

"Ha, you don't care."

He leaned forward again, his left hand pointed at Thales, his tone turned cold:

"But you should care."

The sudden change of attitude made Thales puzzled.

But Duke Falkenhaus immediately grabbed the grilled fish in his right hand and shook it in front of Thales.

"Just like you don't care about this fish, I don't care about this fish either."

"But..."

Under Thales’s discolored expression, Cyril bit the fish’s head and tore it from the grilled fish, creating a rustling sound.

Thyls looked at the grilled fish and felt only a moment of discomfort.

While chewing, Cyril looked at Thales coldly, and gently shook the headless grilled fish:

"It should care about itself."

Thyls looked solemn.

He has faced many high-ranking opponents, many of whom have their own unique aura-such as the overwhelming and aggressive Rumba, or King Kessel, who is reluctant to speak and speak, and others do not approach. The Earl of Brisbane with deep and disturbing eyes.

No matter where these people appear, even if they are just sitting quietly in a corner of the room, you cannot ignore their presence.

But Cyril Falkenhauser seems to be special. He described the withered and terrifying appearance, and his appearance is almost wretched. Even when he looks at people, he maintains the appearance of squinting his neck slightly, giving people a look His first impression contained deep discomfort and awkwardness, and his sharp and awkward voice made people frown, and he wished to ignore him.

As Cyril's movements change, his tone of voice fluctuates, his eyes drift, and there is always an inadvertent moment. This dry old man will give you a shuddering sense of danger.

It's like combing through piles of straw, always worrying about whether the barb will be hidden in the next moment, and piercing the finger.

It's like a horror movie that slowly renders the atmosphere, accumulates emotions, and gradually gets better.

For example now.

Thyls tried to get rid of the shadows in his heart, so he could only choose the method most used to the Northlanders, and take the subject directly:

"Your Excellency, I am grateful that you came to visit me, and I also know that Falkenhauser has contributed a lot to my return home..."

"But believe me, I really don't know anything about the'chess game' between you and Baron Sabreya about the camp. I just got involved accidentally, and I can't do anything. As for anything else, I believe..."

But Cyril's face turned gloomy.

"I still remember six years ago."

The Duke put down the grilled fish and stared at him carefully, as if to stare Thales' soul out of his body.

"When you ignore the face of your ‘sly fox’ teacher at the National Conference and speak out."

Thyls thought.

The words of Cyril made Thales slowly recall the past:

"If the stubborn Cyclops suppresses you, you will sneer and bite back; the iris kid ignores you, and you will stand by and kill you with one blow; if the short-sighted nobles disrespect you, you will remember it, a hundred times Give it back."

"Speaking harshly, using harsh words, going with the wind, and being unreasonable."

The expression of the Duke of Western Wilderness when he said this was very interesting, as if he was expecting a little appreciation, but also seemed to be a playful joke.

Thyls remembered the scene of himself and the princes tit-for-tat when he was a child at the National Conference, and also remembered what Gilbert said to him later.

The prince sighed, with a slight sigh:

"I was just a child back then."

"If I am offended, I am young and frivolous, ignorant and fearless..."

Falkenhauser took the conversation and interrupted him again:

"It is even more of a chess piece that is unwilling to be manipulated."

At this moment, Cyril's eyes are sharp:

"In order to break free, even in the face of the endless stars, dare to try a sharp edge."

This sentence was quite meaningful, and Thales couldn't help but pause.

Speaking of this, Cyril turned his head and spit out the chewed fishbone in his mouth.

The force is not like spitting a fishbone, but like cutting a particularly difficult firewood.

"I have to say that you were more to my taste and more..."

The Duke turned his head, took out a handkerchief and wiped his mouth and hands, revealing an ulterior gaze:

"Be cute."

Thyls took a deep breath.

He vaguely understood the other side's overtones.

So he doesn't want to listen anymore.

"Look at you now."

Cyril looked at him jokingly, looking up and down, like a prostitute who accompanies the wine at a banquet:

"Gentle, polite, and polite."

"Take the sharp blade into the sheath, put the fangs in your mouth, and hide the claws back in your palms," The Duke of Western Wilderness's sharp voice filled the room:

"What a pity?"

Tyles raised his eyes and looked directly at Cyril.

He has no interest in playing with this strange old man who is obviously a high-ranking but always full of yin and yang.

"Maybe this is right."

"My teacher told me," the prince said solemnly:

"Wise men rarely speak eloquently."

Unfortunately, he has not been able to do it.

Thyls sighed in his heart.

The second prince has a calm tone, and implicitly refuses:

"And I believe we are not fools."

Falkenhauser smiled again.

His laughter this time was extraordinarily long, even to the point that it made the patient Thales impatient.

Cyril stopped laughing and spoke quietly:

"Very well, at least, you should not repeat Hyman's mistakes."

Thyls didn't react for a while:

"Who?"

Cyril looked around the room, smiling slyly, like a stormy wind:

"As a diplomat, he is personable, courteous, talkative, and witty, making everyone who wants to speak loudly in front of him embarrassed and speechless." "So he can always be in negotiations , Get the most benefits with a three-inch tongue."

"No matter who you face."

Hyman?

Tyles was stubborn, and he subconsciously glanced towards the corner of the pile of carry-on luggage—his fourth uncle, Hyman Canxing’s last letter was also there.

Why mention him?

Because this is... Ghost Prince Tower?

Remembering that this was the place where another star was killed, and that the bed he had lay on might be the one that the other party had slept in before his death, Thales was upset.

"But at the same time, he also built a high wall in his heart, rejecting everything with a polite smile and smart words."

Weird, Cyril's expression became deep, slightly ecstatic, which dispelled a lot of the haze brought by his terrifying face:

"Whether it is the flattering rhetoric of the ministers, or the unfaithful words of a friend."

"So he paid the price."

This sentence made Thales's attention highly concentrated.

What do you mean?

Pay the price?

"Do you know Prince Hyman—my uncle?"

But Falkenhauser did not answer him.

The ruler of the Western Wilderness slowly turned around and looked at the narrow top-level room. The legs of the chair rubbed on the ground, making an unpleasant muffled noise.

"I still remember that night."

Looking at the furnishings in the room, Cyril Falkenhauser snorted softly, making it difficult to tell whether it was ironic or emotional:

"That night."

Thyls caught a glimpse of darkness in the horrible eyes of the opponent.

"When I arrived, I only saw him lying quietly on the ground, his face covered in blood, and he couldn't speak anymore."

"The camp alarm was overwhelming, and the soldiers under the tower were panicked. His guards yelled at me. The enraged attendant and the standing army searched all the living people within a hundred feet, and even cut down several local nobles on the spot. "

"Infighting was about to break out. The royal standing army confronted the local conscripts and even mercenaries who came here. There were several conflicts and numerous casualties. The mediation between Baron Luhmann and I had little effect. Everyone was nervous and panicked. ."

That night.

Thyls immediately realized what the other party was talking about.

Duke Cyril seemed to ignore the existence of Thales, only slowly observing the room that once belonged to the ghost prince.

"The munitions depot, the supply warehouse, the prison of bones, and other places soon broke out riots-just like these few days, the camp order collapsed, and we have no time to take care of it."

"In less than half an hour, the beacon and signal arrows came from five guard posts a few miles away: Orcs and Skeletons, who were too long to see the end, came strangely by night and launched An unprecedented surprise."

"The prince is dead, and the implications are huge. The standing army's hatred is difficult to suppress and only want to attack. The lords are distracted and guarding first, and the mercenaries have ghosts and want to protect themselves."

"The generals were suspicious, morale was low, and the traitors were in trouble... We, who originally had the advantage, only defended for less than a day."

Cyril turned his head and looked at the reckless house under the window, his eyes condensed slightly.

"At the most critical moment, the various ministries lost contact. I was smashed and half of my face was removed by a **** orc. Baron Luhmann even sacrificed his life and broke the camp for us to evacuate." /

"If it wasn't for the group of orcs who intercepted us lacked military discipline, they would just looting in a mess...huh."

Cyrillic hummed and shook his head with sarcasm and disdain.

Thyls sighed and closed his eyes.

"But that's not the worst."

The Duke Falkenhauser's face became more and more rigid, and the uncomfortable ugliness and withered turned into indifferent coldness:

"Just when we withdrew to Grace Town, reorganized the defeated army, and planned to send Hyman's body back to Everstar City with the letter of assistance... Even more terrible news came from Wingbu."

More terrible news.

Thyls's heart tightened.

"The Yongxing City was in chaos, the Fuxing Palace was changed, the king and the crown prince... both were assassinated."

Tales listened to the other party, breathing slowly.

"The royal capital is blocked, the communication route is cut off, a large number of nobles and the lord in the city have lost news together, the center of the stars is dumb, and our backup is nowhere in sight."

Cyril turned his head and looked at Thales, with his head and chest closed, his gaze was faint, as if looking at the air behind Thales:

"And this is just the beginning."

"The emergency subpoenas transferred from the Wing Castle one after another, the bad news followed by the bad news."

Cyril turned to the backlight, looking gloomy in the cold wind:

"To the north, the Broken Dragon Fortress fell, and the second prince was killed. Exeter's troops crushed the northern border and crossed the cliffs, unstoppable."

"East, the third prince died and broke the bridge. He was in charge of the waterway supply for the north-south battlefield, so the operation was suspended."

"In the southwest, the Duke of Xinghu died in infighting, and the Star Legion, who was burdened by the public's expectations, lost its head, but also cut supplies, torn apart, and no news."

The bleakness and bitterness in the Duke's words made the prince shudder, reminding him of Gilbert's narration of his **** year.

But Thales immediately remembered the half-truth and half-truth of Thacker in the dungeon and the painful confession of the royal guards, and couldn't help clenching his fists.

"Stars and flames are everywhere, the kingdom hopes to be cut off, the enemy is near the city, and the royal family is gone."

"Where is the Western Wilderness?"

"Just a meeting of the lords of the Western Wilderness in Grace Town, there were many people with ghosts: those who kept their doors behind closed doors, those who compromised and surrendered, those who garrisoned the army, and those who supported privately. , There are also a few."

"Compared with that, the invasion of hybrids and wild species, the fall of the Sabreya camp, and the looting of the border of the Western Desert, seem to be nothing."

Cyrill raised his head, and the chill on his ugly face surprised Thales:

"In the sunset temple of Grace Town, listening to their meaningless quarrels, I, who was completely disabled, could only be supported by someone, standing in front of Hyman's body covered with thick cloth, and asked him silently: 'Old friend, beautiful boy, where is your proud handsome face and witty eloquence?'"

Cyril's tone was cold, but with a sense of disappointment that Thales hadn't expected.

"That's all gone," Thales tried to comfort him, and at the same time issued an order to expel guests:

"Now, we have..."

But Falkenhauser looked at the ground, with his hands hanging down on his knees, and a word suddenly popped out:

"So, sometimes I regret it too."

Regret?

Thyls was startled.

Cyril raised his head, his eyes flickering, his color is strange:

"That night, if I didn't do that, what would happen to the future?"

Thyls is a little confused:

"So? What do you do?"

Cyril sneered and put the dinner plate back on the desk.

He stared at Thales again, as if turning back to the Duke of the West Wilderness with weird words and deeds, laughing and cursing:

"That night, if I hadn't been in private, put the Assassins of the Shield of Deception into the camp..."

"Put it in front of Hyman..."

At that moment, Thales' heart missed a beat.

As if all the hairs on his body are standing upside down.

The assassin of the shield of deception...

Put in...

Cyrillic faint way:

"What will happen in that **** year?"

Everything is still.

It's as if the crime of Hell River is working again.

Only the sound of the strong wind outside the window reminded him of the passage of time.

Thyls looked at each other motionlessly like a frozen ice sculpture.

In front of him, Cyril Falkenhausen, the terrifying guardian duke of the Western Wilderness, didn't smile, didn't speak, didn't ridicule, didn't stab him, just looked at him quietly, extremely calm.

The cold wind outside the window increased again, and Falkenhauser's robe kept shaking.

On the robe, the skull logo with four eye holes, which represents the Falkenhauser family, is extremely conspicuous and hideous.

It's like coming to life.

God knows how hard it took Thales to suppress the desire to call Yodel or put on a fighting posture.

God knows.

After a long while~IndoMTL.com~ Thales uttered a word solemn, solemn, difficult, and hostile:

"You?"

Cyril leaned back in the chair and squinted his eyes:

"Me."

The tone is calm and the posture is safe.

Thyls took a deep breath.

Both were still for a few seconds, only the wind remained.

Until Cyril showed a satisfied expression.

"Very good."

The Duke straightened his waist, his withered, scarcely **** face finally revealed a rare shrewd solemnity:

"We finally started talking."