Kingdom’s Bloodline Chapter 214: Anyone

"Tell me, boy, among so many orcs in the world...cough cough...cough..."

Uncle's voice was accompanied by a heavy cough, and he couldn't hide the sound of horseshoes of guards on both sides.

"...Which one is the most dangerous?"

He lifted his gaze from the dirt under the horseshoe:

"The kind that is dying."

Riding on the horse, he was not very interested, and he was quite a bit behind his uncle's carriage.

"Yes, the dying kind." Uncle's weak voice seemed to be suddenly injected with new vitality.

Like an uncle who used to be a mature man, he pointed the country and waved Fang Qiu.

"It's like the venomous needle of a sand scorpion hidden behind its tail, like the fangs of a poisonous snake buried deep in its mouth, like dangerous quicksand hidden underground."

At that time, the uncle's back was majestic and tall, his arms were powerful, and his voice was heavy and deep.

Thinking of this, he hummed, urged the whip on the horse, hurried a few steps, and came to the carriage.

But my uncle is like a desert after the storm, and his voice after boosting returns to a decadent hoarse:

"So, which kind of orc is the safest?"

He answered unhurriedly:

"The dead one."

"That's what Old Mann Bachelor taught you," the uncle shook his head and said: "The dead beasts are good orcs."

"But I want to say, Cyril, the safest orc..."

"The kind that is dying."

He froze for a moment.

Uncle's weak voice sinks and rises with the horse's progress:

"Because they are like arrows at the end of a crossbow, like the tail of a terrifying sandstorm, like the afterglow of burning up oil."

"The momentum is huge, but there is no stamina."

He clamped his horse belly and frowned fiercely:

"This **** dumb mystery... old man, did you regain your power last night and went to the priestess of the Temple of Dark Night?"

"Or worse...male sacrifice?"

My uncle's voice was quiet for a moment, and for a moment only the hoofs of the guards could be heard.

In a few seconds.

"All right."

Uncle chuckled helplessly as he coughed:

"Maybe this is why I like you."

Listening to his uncle's coughing worse than last week, his heart sank, and his spirits sank:

"'Like me' if this is your last word, old man."

"I have to say, it's horrible."

He pretended to blow a whistle easily:

"Let everyone who heard this think that you are an old pervert who likes to play with your nephew."

Uncle was silent for a while.

The guards on both sides still marched side by side with due diligence, their faces still, as if they hadn't heard their conversation at all.

After a long time, my uncle's helpless and weak voice sounded:

"...The dying orcs are both dangerous and safe, so why did the Bone Man say that the desert **** has neither disaster nor forgiveness? Because disaster and forgiveness change back and forth in one thought."

"Therefore, we must be on guard at all times."

He scratched his ear helplessly.

Uncle's words continue, becoming more serious:

"The princes of the blade-leader seem to have changed their minds and guarded themselves, but in fact their nature is hard to change. Sooner or later they will mistake themselves."

"The fat profiteers in the East China Sea seem to have a wide range of friendly and harmless friends, but they are used to seeing the wind make the rudder cross the river and demolish the bridge."

"The cliff is pretending to be lonely, arrogant, neutral, and selfless, but it's just a group of stinky mice that are reliant on the dangers of the mountains."

"As for the brave old **** on the South Bank, hum, it is more closed and conservative than the priestess who got out of bed."

"None of them can be counted on."

Uncle's voice fell.

He was silent for a while while listening, and then suddenly said:

"Old man, you..."

"Have you ever been to a female priest?"

There was a heavy thumping sound from the carriage!

"You"

It seems that my uncle was choked again, and even his breathing became disturbed.

He smiled from the corner of his lips.

Finally, my uncle suppressed his anger and sighed:

"Hey, forget it...In contrast, the old Dylan of the North is tenacious and self-improving..."

"Unfortunately, their position is so bad. Once they change, they are the first to bear the brunt and it is difficult to help."

Sure enough, before I changed my uncle...Listen to me making jokes like this...

Depressed, he stopped thinking about it, but raised his head and looked at the growing vegetation on both sides of Grace Avenue:

"You seem to miss the most important thing?"

Uncle breathed.

The convoy turned a big bend, and a few car-driving farmers on the side of the road shrank tremblingly, waiting for the four-eyed skull flag to pass.

After a long while, my uncle's weak voice sounded again, with long-lasting resentment and resentment:

"The stars beyond the firmament...high above."

"Only look into the distance, not delusional."

"Not even more reliable."

He felt a deep chill in his uncle's tone.

"Remember."

Uncle's words turned into a thick and ominous cough.

He didn't speak.

After a few seconds, he released the palm that had snapped the rein.

Amidst his uncle's uncomfortable coughing, he took a deep breath and forced himself to laugh:

"Listening to you, we should be a maverick alone."

"Everywhere is inconsistent, is everyone annoying?"

My uncle's cough stopped, but he didn't speak immediately, only the sound of horseshoes and wheels.

Finally, a long sigh came from the carriage:

"Isn't that... the meaning of our existence?"

There is helplessness and relief.

The Duke Falkenhaus opened his eyes.

And in front of his eyes, the prince is staring at him nervously.

Tyles' arms stiffened behind him, firmly holding down the dagger in the quilt.

He penetrated the eyes of the Duke of the Western Wilderness, which seemed to be smiling but not smiling, and seemed to see another bloody, hideous head of a dead man with hollow eye sockets.

The drill.

Wait.

If Falkenhaus was the man behind the assassination of Hyman...

Why did he tell me this time?

Where is his interest in taking the matter straight in front of another star?

Is it the first to win, is it a sign of turning a face, or is it another purpose?

As usual, Thales took a deep breath, and while deliberately expressing the astonishment that satisfies the other party, he began to think crazy about the key points.

From the time of the beggar to the career of a prince, this trick worked well for the dull and self-righteous guys like Quaid and Nicolai, and even for the wicked ghosts like Ian and Monty the Dead The guys also have miraculous effects: they can always reap the superiority of being superior and Zhizhu in the grip of Thales's flustered performance, thus exposing the biggest flaw in contempt and satisfaction.

After many ups and downs, this is Thales’ most skilled instinct.

He was so proficient that he even couldn't tell: when the gaffe was true and when it was deliberately performed.

But this trick sometimes fails.

For example, facing King Chaman in the carriage.

For example...

Now.

"Why, it's too easy to live in the Northland? Is this scared?"

The playful words of the Duke of the Western Wilderness sounded again. He stared at Thales, who seemed to be shocked, and seemed a little dissatisfied:

"How about this?"

Which one?

Before Thales could think much, he saw Cyril stretch out his hand and hold his crutch...

That long-handled sword.

The prince is an exciting spirit.

"Huh!"

As the sound of metal and leather rubbing sounded, the blade of the sword came out of its sheath, and a silver light was drawn in the air!

Oops!

The crime of Hell River was raging, and Thales instinctively fell from the bed and rolled on the spot!

Are you kidding?

He got up at a safe distance away from the silver light, bent his knees, daggers across, in an iron pose.

Thyls looked at Cyril Falkenhauser, who was still sitting steadily in his chair, in shock.

The long-handled sword that had just been unsheathed was held in the palm of the Duke, and as the Duke’s wrist turned slightly, it slowly drew an arc.

The chill is full, and the momentum is strong.

There is a faint sense of pressure.

"Very good, at least you are not as foolish as you seem."

Cyril grinned sullenly, ignoring the prince's pale face.

What are you doing?

Thyls looked at Cyril in disbelief.

This... turned your face?

But Thales is more concerned about another thing:

Yordel, who was hiding in the dark, remained silent, and did not respond when he saw him fall into danger.

What's the matter?

That guy won't really be angry about what happened just now, right?

The kind that doesn't coax well?

But when Thales was thinking about the way out with a headache, the familiar hoarse voice rang softly in his ears.

"Calm down."

The voice of the mask guard is illusory, almost like a mosquito and fly, but Thales's tight breath is relaxed:

"Not him."

Not him.

The familiar voice made Thales' heart fall back into his chest.

Not him.

But at that moment, looking at Cyril's malicious smile, Thales seemed to have caught something.

This is the Yaga camp, which is directly under the royal family and is stationed with a considerable number of standing troops.

The wings of legend are on the side, and King Kessel is behind.

Take the blame and threaten the prince. No matter what, Falkenhauser should not do it.

The prince who interrupted his thoughts because of his fighting stance took several deep breaths and forced himself to think from the beginning.

Then why...

Why...

Not him.

After Yordel’s reminder, Thales, who seemed to have figured out something, asked, but he dared not relax his fighting posture for a moment:

"Are you a murderer?"

Cyril stared at him steadily, the long sword in his hand was extremely stable, and his eyes showed brilliance.

Finally, in the tense confrontation, the Duke of Western Wilderness chuckled and shook his head:

"It seems you don't know."

Under Thales' solemn expression, Cyril's cold smile slowly faded.

The Duke put the long-handled sword across his knees and played slowly, no longer looking at Thales.

I don’t know?

Thyls, who didn't understand, took a deep breath and exhaled slowly.

"You said, you put the assassin in front of Prince Hyman..."

The prince gritted his teeth and asked:

"But why..."

Falkenhauser didn't turn his head back, just staring at the exquisite long-handled sword on his knee.

"Because that was his will."

Tyles' questioning stopped abruptly.

His wishes?

This time, before Thales started to question, Duke Cyril answered softly, his voice erratic, and his emotions complicated:

"He took the initiative to find them."

"Find the shields of those assassins and shadows."

Thyls was stunned.

But.

But...

Hyman?

And the Shield of Deception?

Thyls understood what the Duke said, and his eyes widened.

"Eighteen years ago," Cyril said lightly:

"Hyman found me and asked me to do my best to help him, help him avoid the guards who came from the royal guards and soldiers of the star, and complete his private meeting with some strange'guests'."

"More than once."

Avoid guards.

Unfamiliar guests.

The cold wind blew into the room, causing the Duke of Western Wilderness's leather robe to vibrate slightly, and the gray hair lightly.

The wind also brought up endless flying dust. In the sun, countless particles flying back and forth from the real body that people rarely noticed appeared, rolling in the air strangely.

Cyril's eyes are still spinning, seeming to shine:

"Until... the last time."

The last time.

For some reason, Thales suddenly felt cold on his back.

"The Shield of Shadows, avoid the eyes and ears of the royal family, meet, so..."

The incredible Thales put down his dagger and straightened up.

He moved his lips with difficulty:

"The Scarlet Year...he did it?"

"Hyman?"

On the top floor of the Ghost Prince Tower, the narrow room became quiet.

Only the faint noise under the window can be heard.

And the violent cold wind from high places.

But the prince only felt that he had fallen into a deep thick mist.

And he is getting closer and closer to the truth behind the fog.

In the dungeon, Semir's hateful words came to his mind:

[Is Kong, the ‘beauty’ Hyman who has a good skin and a good literary talent, but is narrow-minded and vicious? 】

【Is the son killing his father or his brother killing his brother? 】

The fourth prince, Hyman Chanstar?

Cyril did not answer.

But Thales shook his head after only a few seconds in a trance, and countless mysteries rushed in:

"But why...why?"

"If he is the star behind the scenes..."

"Why did the Shield of Deception kill him?"

This doesn't make sense.

He stared at Falkenhauser, who seemed to be surprised.

The Duke closed his eyes lightly, opened his arms back and forth, and leaned forward.

He narrowed his expression, looked sideways at Thales, and showed a faint but human laugh again:

"I want to know too."

Thyls was startled:

"Don't you know?"

Cyril chuckled lightly, seemingly indifferent:

"No."

"Maybe he is just too stupid to be hacked by people."

"Maybe he was originally a victim and was destined to be betrayed."

"Maybe he is just an insider, but he is ultimately doomed."

"Maybe he just got involved inadvertently and wanted to turn the tide."

Cyrill lowered his head, the corners of his lips curled slightly, I don't know if it was a sarcasm or a sneer:

"But... he doesn't want me to know."

He doesn't know.

Thyls is not satisfied with this answer.

He took a deep breath, stepped forward slowly, and sat on the end of the bed again, facing the Duke.

"Really?"

"He asked you to help someone who didn't let you know the truth, and you agreed? Don't even ask?"

Tyers said coldly:

"You are too generous."

Cyril turned his head slowly.

It may be an illusion, but Thales suddenly felt that the ugly face of Duke Falkenhause was relieved a lot.

"Believe it or not, kid."

Suddenly Cyril's eyes became serious, and his collapsed lips and teeth closed in the sun:

"Hyman is one of my few friends at least, compared to his brothers who are full of conspiracy, murder, money, and women."

"He spoke, so I helped, it's that simple."

Thyls frowned deeply.

Brothers who are full of conspiracy, murder, money and women...

Cyril watched Thales' expression, shaking his head and chuckles.

But the prince's next sentence changed his expression.

"Is this related to Prince Horace?"

Tyles stretched his brows, but the solemnity in his eyes could not be added:

"The reason why Hyman went to find the Shield of Deception, but ultimately died in his hands?"

At that moment, Falkenhauser's expression freezes.

Horace.

He stared at Thales, still ugly and ferocious, but he didn't have that kind of laughter anymore.

"Why do you ask?"

Tyles breathed out and answered him with another question:

"And you, why did you tell me this in the place where Hyman died eighteen years later?"

Cyril looked at Thales for a long, long time.

Finally, the Duke’s elbows left his knees and he straightened up on the chair.

Unexpectedly, Cyril, who seemed serious, did not respond to his question, but raised the sword on his knee again and looked up and down.

"Have you seen such a sword, Your Royal Highness?"

Cyril seemed to have walked out of the memories of the year, and returned to a scary and comfortable smile.

Thyls was startled.

He only noticed that the Duke’s long-handled sword has a unique appearance. The bronze-colored guard and hilt are extraordinarily slender. It does not seem to conform to the most ideal force structure, but it is exquisite and rigorous enough, with two blades. Extend the smooth arc like a sand dune, giving people a sense of aesthetic comfort.

And the center of the sword grid is inlaid with a pure black gemstone, of which kind.

I saw Cyril without raising his head, just admiring this exquisite sword to himself:

"The ancient imperial sword, or the ancient knight sword, has a special style and arc. It has an amazing sense of balance. The swing is more handy and the dance is more smooth and powerful."

"It requires good raw materials and superb forging skills, and of course there is a high cost price. I guess that is why they are destined to be unable to be mass-produced and eventually disappeared on the battlefield. There are only a few remaining enough to become Treasures of heirlooms."

Cyril reversed the sword so that Thales could see the bottom of the hilt.

That is an unfamiliar ancient imperial engraved letter that Thales barely recognized:

f.

The carving of this letter looks rough, and it is not very coordinated compared with other delicate parts of the sword.

Ancient Empire Sword? Ancient knight sword?

Wait.

Thyls' eyebrows moved.

Such an arc...

It's a bit familiar.

"I've seen one, one." Thales' mind came up with the eternal truth of Ricky's silver-handled long sword with the same arc.

"But what does it have to do with me, what does it have to do with Hyman and Horace?"

Tyles asked alertly, and at the same time sat a little further away, making sure his legs touch the ground.

Cyril continued to admire what might be the heirloom sword of the Falkenhauser family, and tweeted:

"It is said that the first batch of ancient empire swords were provided by dwarves, cast by elves, and used earth flames as furnace fires to gather the essence of the seven seas, as a tribute to the first emperor of this world and the'Great Emperor' who created the boundless prosperity of mankind. Comola Carlosser."

Thyls's thoughts are slightly lagging.

Cyril raised his head and sneered:

"Yes, I'm talking about your ancestors, the legendary one whose blood is still shining."

Thyls spoke subconsciously:

"But you"

But Cyril seemed determined not to allow him to interrupt himself, and returned to the long-handled sword in his hand:

"The name of this sword is called the "Warner". He participated in the Battle of End with Tiberias Falkenhause 600 years ago. He was the swordsman teacher of Tomund I when he was young, and he was also under the command of the King of Revival The oldest follower with qualifications until he was named to the ruins and became the first guardian duke of the Western Wilderness and my ancestor."

Warner.

Tormond I.

The end of the battle.

Thyls is a little impatient:

"I will have time to listen to your family history, but now let us first"

"And the last time the alerter served!" Cyril's volume suddenly increased, overshadowing Thales' voice.

I saw the Duke of Western Wilderness squinting slightly, looking sideways at Thales who frowned:

"In the hands of another Cyril Falkenhauser."

"He is my uncle and grandfather who served in the royal guard of Sumer IV of the Silent. In the crisis of the sudden collapse of the king, he held this sword and led the guard to kill the blood. Protecting the young Eddie II successfully ascended to the throne and reigned over the stars."

As Cyril said, the long-handled sword in his hand dangled a sword flower. The skillful hand and the steady holding of the sword made Thales, who had always thought that Duke Falkenhause was inconvenient, looked at him with admiration.

Wait.

Tyles' complexion changed!

From what he just said, he caught something.

Another Cyril Falkenhauser.

The Royal Guard?

"The Silent" Sumei IV.

Wang Jia collapsed suddenly.

And... Eddie II?

Thyls stared at the "warner".

Before he could sort out his clues, Cyril sighed:

"Falkenhauser, this surname is as long as Arund. It has been passed down since the age of the empire, followed by the Canstar family and continues to this day."

The Duke stared at his ancient imperial sword:

"From the end of the battle to the Scarlet Year, we have witnessed too much and understood too much like this warning."

There was a strange light in the eyes of the Duke of Western Wilderness:

"Whether it is the rise and fall of the Star Kingdom..."

"Or is it from the Star Royal Family..."

Falkenhauser took off the scabbard on the crutch, and glanced at Thales obliquely, seemingly meaningful:

"Blood storm."

Cyril exhaled slowly and retracted the "warner" into the scabbard.

"In contrast, is the answer you want important?"

Tyles' eyebrows twitched.

Looking back to the experience of the past few days, the prince suddenly had a guess.

"Eddie II, my grandfather."

"I heard that he was the longest dentition among the children who did not die under the knee of Sumei IV, and he was also a male."

Thyls spoke slowly:

"I think he should be unimpeded as he succeeds to the throne and crowned?"

He squinted his eyes:

"Where did you call the ‘repellent storm’ come from?"

The Duke of Western Wilderness put away his nostalgic expression and smiled slowly.

He turned his head and stared at Thales scorchingly:

"Then maybe, your history teacher didn't mention your grandfather's stepmother, the'Witch Queen' Bella from the Iris family, and her sister-in-law who was the Duchess of Blades, your grandfather's aunt, and the former Helen Princess Na Long."

Iris family, "The Witch Queen" Bella.

The Duchess of Blade, Princess Helena.

Listening to these strange names, Thales' brains turned.

"Not to mention how they conspired to persecute after the death of Su Mei IV, and wanted to send your minor grandfather to the Temple of Sunset as a lifelong sacrifice, so that Queen Bella's biological son, the infant John Can Xing is the youngest generation, and the arrogant king is the king."

Tyles' eyes widened suddenly!

John Star.

Conspiracy correction.

Thyls couldn't help squeezing the dagger.

The biological son of Queen Bella.

The young generation grows up.

Cyril put down his sword and sighed:

"Of course, if Queen Bella succeeded more than sixty years ago, you and I would not have to worry about it here."

If Queen Bella succeeds...

Don't worry about it here...

Damn old guy.

Tyles took a deep breath, calming the surprise in his heart.

"Enough, Duke Falkenhauser."

"From just now to now..."

Tyles' face sank.

"What the **** are you suggesting?"

This time ~IndoMTL.com~ The second prince stared at the Duke of the Western Wilderness firmly, with a bad attitude:

"Is the prince's young brother, John, the Duke of Xinghu, who had the opportunity to pass my grandfather and ascend the highest throne of stars?"

Falkenhauser curled up his mouth.

"It's still the Kevin Deere family of Iris, have tried to intervene in the throne?"

Cyril's smile remained undiminished.

"And the husband of Princess Helena, the Duke of Blade, who died 18 years ago, is also involved?"

Looking at Cyril's unhurried expression, Thales clenched his teeth:

"Or is it implying that in the Scarlet Year, it was indeed a certain prince of my grandfather who also wanted to be a young man..."

"Anyone is king?"