Kingdom’s Bloodline Chapter 215: Do something

The history of stars has never lacked blood.

Gilbert's words resounded in the teenager's mind.

"You have over-interpreted what I said, Your Highness."

Cyril sneered, reached out and took a fist-sized red fruit from the dinner plate, which Thales could not recognize, and wiped it on his sleeve:

"I mean, as the oldest vassal of the star, Falkenhauser has seen too many similar dramas in the reflection of the warner's blade: from the first day to the last day."

"Too much, we are numb."

The words of the Duke of Western Wilderness fell, and he ignored Thales' suspicious eyes and took a bite of the fruit in his hand.

But Thales still looked at him warily:

"Really?"

Cyrill's cheeks are shaking and he seems to enjoy the taste of chewing, but his withered face and scary face can only make this action look even more frightening.

"Similarly, the truth about the Scarlet Year is no longer important-just like today, sixty years later, will anyone care about your grandfather's coronation crisis?"

Cyril leaned back, but his viper-like eyes clasped Thales tightly.

He is vague and authentic:

"The important thing is, what has the Bloody Year brought us, and how do we face it?"

Tyles averted his gaze and tried not to watch the process of talking Cyril's mouth from solid to small pieces, and then to powder.

The prince is serious and authentic:

"I don't like to play mystery."

"I don't like roundabouts."

Cyril swallowed the pulp and snorted.

He supported the arm of the chair with his left elbow, and leaned over, his eyes suddenly changed and aggressive:

"Then maybe you are not suitable for being a star."

Thyls slowly turned his head and looked at him.

Cyril still maintained a half-truth and joking gaze, while the prince's expression was silent.

The two looked at each other silently.

There is something unclear in the air.

A few seconds later, Thales' head was slightly lowered, staring at the Duke from a strange angle, with a low voice:

"My father knows, right?"

Falkenhauser's right hand, which was playing with half a piece of fruit, stagnated.

The brilliance in his eyes slowly recovered.

Tyles took a breath and said sternly:

"Whether it's you secretly helping Hyman back then, or his Shield of Intrigue and Shadow, or even what happened that night."

"He all knows."

The prince used affirmative sentences.

The arc of Cyril's mouth slowly disappeared.

"What about he knows," the Duke bit his words gently, as if approaching his prey:

"What if I don't know?"

Tyles exhaled.

He understands.

"You just threw out those secrets layer by layer-from Hyman to the Shield of Deception."

Thyls raised his head, firm and decisive:

"To test, to test how much I know, but also to test how much my father told me."

Cyril did not speak.

But at that moment, he looked at the prince with sharper eyes.

"And the reason you did this..."

Thyls didn't say any more, but stared at the Duke scorchingly.

To test the trust of King Kessel in his heir.

To test the foundations of the star royal family.

For a long while, Cyril smiled slightly, leaned over and pointed at Thales:

"Like I said, we started talking."

Tyles' face became more solemn.

The young man lowered his head and followed the words of the Duke:

"So, as you say."

"Leave aside the details and the truth...what did the Bloody Year bring us?"

Cyril smiled.

He didn't answer Thales directly, but tilted his head and took another bite of the fruit in his hand.

"I heard that Baron Williams found you first, Your Royal Highness."

He chewed and said vaguely:

"What do you think of him?"

Thyls frowned.

Williams?

What do you think of him?

Thyls' first thought was the scene where the other party left himself in the saddle.

The young man shook slightly, trying to drive the sight of him riding a horse out of his brain.

"The Baron is..."

But as soon as he spoke, he was suddenly choked.

The Duke of Western Wilderness is not in a hurry, waiting for his reply with interest.

Romain's murderous eyes appeared in front of Thales, as well as the face that no strangers should come near when "I cut in and kill you"...

The prince was stuck in his heart.

How can you praise someone against your will... someone you can't find the best?

Mo God is on top, you can't praise the other party for being "cute", right?

The prince gave a light cough, trying not to change his expression too much:

"I think he is pretty...hehe...that, lead the soldiers well, command if you decide, then..."

Telskar is on the next adjective.

Cyril didn't look at him, but just snorted, noncommittal.

Thyles, who racked his brains, remembered something and quickly added:

"And... uh, great skill, extraordinary appearance?"

Moshen bless, finally found the advantage.

Cyril nodded with a snort, turned around and vomited the pit from his mouth.

He twitched his crippled face, twitching a large part of his lips, and squinted.

"Well, I have to admit..."

Although he gradually got used to the Duke's dignity, Thales was still stunned by this look.

Cyril sneered:

"Williams, that guy looks better than me..."

He smiled and raised his right hand, his thumb and index finger were very close, the potholes and ravines on his face seemed to have been flooded:

"A little bit."

Tyles looked at Cyril's special dignity and tried his best to resist the embarrassment:

"Oh, is it..."

Cyril looked at him and finally couldn't help laughing.

As the Duke laughed, he stretched out his hand again, and took a second piece of fruit from the plate.

"Just put it straight, everyone who has dealt with him knows it well."

Cyril looked at Thales carefully, a chill oozes from his frail face:

"Roman Williams."

Cyril's eyes flashed coldly:

"That's a lonely, indifferent, arrogant, arrogant..."

"Shameless bastard."

Shameless, bastard?

Tyles resisted the urge to nod and kept his expression slightly frowning.

But Cyril didn't seem to care about his reaction anymore.

The Duke of the Western Wilderness sneered and looked out the window:

"Admit it, he was more annoying than the ignorant and fearless bear kid from the first time he was enlisted in the **** years, more unpleasant than the unreasonable bully, and more fearful than the cruel and cruel hooligan. The tax collectors who are exploited in layers are even more hated by others, and they are more offensive than the tyrant who is so solemn."

Tyles took a breath, and couldn't help but think of the pretentious look of Wings of Legend.

The Duke disregarded his own manners, looked at the window with sharp and disdainful eyes, as if thinking of something:

"Everyone who has dealt with him has suffered from him... That **** violent temper, that defiant expression, and that **** and hateful habit, he almost didn’t say'I’m a **** Silly X'is carved on the face."

Thyls raised his eyebrows, listening to Cyril's vulgar language.

"Maybe the Baron is just unsocial..."

Duke Falkenhauser snorted coldly:

"Sociable?"

Cyril took a bite of the fruit in his hand, as if the bite was not food, but an unshakable enemy.

"Have you seen him killing prisoners of war and collecting heads on the battlefield? Have you seen his indifferent and accustomed expression when wiping blood? Do you know that he never relents in killing himself?"

Tyles again remembered that the other party calmly digging out the eyes and prying off the jaws of the dead man's head in the splash of blood, feeling a burst of discomfort in his heart.

Cyril snorted coldly:

"Do you think the commando he formed in the Stardust Guard was named "Freaks" only because of the prisoners of abilities he released? No..."

Thyls pursed his lips and said nothing.

The Duke of Western Wilderness chewed the pulp in his mouth, sneered and shook his head:

"That's because Roman Williams, Wings of Legend, hidden under that beautiful skin, is someone who doesn't understand the rules and doesn't care about interests, has neither sympathy nor loyalty, and has a treacherous temper. Test, indifferent, cruel, weird interest, thinking logic is different from ordinary people, far from what we can understand, and far from what the Fuxing Palace can command, really true——"

I saw Cyril Falkenhauser look cold, and said clearly and firmly:

"Freaks."

Tyles took a deep breath, remembering that Wings of Legend had coldly interrupted Nob's leg, and contemptuously said that the king was a "dog bastard".

"Maybe, geniuses always have quirks?"

Cyril looked at the half-bitten fruit in his hand and tilted his mouth:

"Genius?"

The Duke raised his head, his eyes deep.

"Then I have to say, promote such a freak who is full of evil habits and can't even control the royal family, and place it in the remote Western Wilderness, in the chaotic western front line, and do my best to provide his standing army. ……"

Cyril turned his back to Thales, looked at the Sabreya camp under the window, and shook his head with deep meaning:

"Your father is probably also..."

"Genius."

Thyls frowned.

He really couldn't tell whether this was a sincere compliment, a pungent irony, or a combination of both.

But the prince understood a lot.

Thyls shook his head decisively:

"It's useless."

"As I said, I can't do anything about the established things-you can't regain the Sabre camp from me, regain what you lost from my father."

His face is indifferent:

"And it's time for you to go-this is my meal time. I am not used to sharing it with others."

But to Thales’s surprise, in the face of his obvious and decisive denial, Cyril neither took a negative attitude to **** for tat, nor did he use his usual tone of sarcasm.

I saw the expression on the Duke's face loosen, he didn't laugh or stab him, he just sat upright and looked out the window faintly.

"Yaya camp? Something lost?"

"His Royal Highness, have you seen the former Western Wilderness?"

He looked at the hustle and bustle under the window.

Thyls looked at Cyril's profile, and suddenly felt that Duke Falkenhauser was in a trance.

"Once upon a time?"

The Duke snorted, not knowing what he remembered, but shook his head slightly:

"You know, eighteen years ago, shortly after I succeeded as the Duke, I received an order from the Chief Star, and rushed to Yongxing City non-stop to listen to your grandfather's counter-insurgency mobilization with the other eighteen people..."

"I never thought that the Western Wilderness that gave birth to me would be the next one."

Thyls' expression changed and he was lost in thought.

Eighteen years ago.

The Star General Edict.

Rebellion and mobilization.

But...

The prince raised his head, wondering:

"Next?"

But Thales immediately saw a flower, he subconsciously clasped his chest and looped his arms, and caught a piece thrown by the Duke of Western Wilderness——

White bread?

Thyls watched in amazement as Cyril calmly retracted his left hand, and put a piece of fruit into his mouth again.

"Eighteen years have passed. Few young people now know that before the war of the Scarlet Year, before the legendary Wings were born, when the guardian duke of the Western Wilderness was still my uncle..."

The Duke of the Western Wilderness bites the fruit while he leisurely said:

"What is the Western Wilderness like."

Tyles pursed his lips and frowned, looking at the Lord Duke, who was obviously reluctant to leave (Prince, or the prince’s meal?), opened his mouth angrily but helplessly, and bit the soft and delicate white bread.

"At that time, the ruler here-Baron Bladeya, Garrett Luhmann was also an important vassal and guest of my uncle, who often went to the ruins. It can be said that he grew up with me, and he felt like brothers and sisters." /

The Duke smiled as he watched the boy pulling his face out of the bread with an unhappy expression, but his eyes gradually solidified:

"At that time, we enjoyed a rare peace with the desert."

Peace?

Thyls, who was trying to tear the bread, had a meal.

Just listen to Falkenhauser's slow voice:

"We won't go in, and they—whether it is the eight tribes of the orcs or the five tribes of the Boneman—nor will they come."

"Our patrols follow the rules for tax collection, and their looting and grazing also have their own principles-looking at each other from afar, silently vigilant, living their own lives, the well water does not violate the river water, fairness, tacit understanding, and nature."

"Let countless nomads, herders, mercenaries, and adventurers go in and out of the desert freely, interacting with sand pirates, exiles, orcs, and desolate people, and even with colleagues from the other side of the desert, Trade, competition, fighting, conflict, integration."

"Write their own story."

Thyls frowned as he chewed the bread and thought of Tampa, the owner of the "my house" tavern.

I remembered what he had said to himself, the history of Camp Bladeya.

That was the age of mercenaries.

By the way, what happened to Tampa?

"At that time, there were even desert residents who longed for civilization to migrate to the Western Desolation. When I was the age of riding a horse and began to patrol the desert, I could often see the desert species coming and going on the border."

"If you were a little bolder, as the caravan stepped into the desert, you would have a chance to see the face of the "enemy of mankind". When meeting merchants and the seemingly ferocious gray bastards, they would be blushing and bargaining. It’s not a weird thing."

The Duke's voice was sharp and piercing instead of usual, and it became smooth and smooth, with a slight trembling in his breath, as if trying to endure something.

Wild species.

Gray hybrids.

Thyls first thought of McGee the Bone in "Dante's Great Sword", and then Raphael with dark red eyes.

And... the unusual orc who gave him the "name" for his coming-of-age ceremony-Kandal Nushan.

"There are even chambers of commerce that have agreed on regular trading days in the desert, just like the fairs in our country. It is said that there are also caravans that have walked out of a legendary oasis connecting countless oasis, reaching the depths of the desert, and even The magical trade route of the Golden Corridor proves that the area of ​​the desert is no smaller than the Star Kingdom that we are proud of."

The words of Cyril are filled with unspeakable smiles and unforgettable aftertastes:

"Have you heard the bardics of the Three Heroes of Dawn in search of the dragon in the desert? Have you heard the story of Kaligri, a desert city with countless treasures? Have you heard the legend of the ancient battlefields of the Desolate people about the desert of the God of War? Have you heard the horrible tale of the evil **** who is dormant under the yellow sand devouring everything in the world? Have you heard the legend that there are countless imperial treasures buried deep in the desert?"

"At that time, they were all wonderful stories that originated in the mysterious desert. Countless people set out from here, broke into the desert and brought them out, brought them back to the Western Wilderness, and the stars, and achieved legends that passed down through the ages. "

Bardics, stories, legends.

The former desert and western famine.

Tels listened in silence, forgetting to eat the bread for a while.

The Duke sighed:

"The people of the Western Wilderness and the inhabitants of the desert, just like this, we are afraid of each other and we need each other. There are frictions and occasional cooperation, maintaining a weird but interesting ecology, filling this land that has been dry for thousands of years. ."

The room was quiet for a few seconds.

"In the desert, there is an old saying among people who worship—or fear the gods of indifference."

Falkenhauser is quiet and authentic:

"Moshen is free from disaster, and the world is disaster."

Thyls moved his eyebrows, subconsciously following up:

"The desert **** has no forgiveness, and the desert is forgiving."

Cyril's eyes lit up, seemingly surprised that Thales knew this sentence.

"So you already know."

The Duke smiled softly:

"The **** of indifference took the initiative to bring disasters, and the mortal world is full of disasters."

"There is no need to forgive Mo God himself, the existence of the Great Desert is its greatest tolerance."

Sigh of sigh appeared on Cyril's face:

"Did you feel it? How neutral, detached, indifferent, and see through everything in the desert **** reflected in this sentence-just like the great desert itself?"

Thyls didn't speak, but just remembered the warning from Raphael the Bone Man before Longxiao City left.

But at that time, the Desolate Man explained the meaning of this sentence to him:

There is danger in the terrible desert.

The weak are afraid of disasters, and the lucky ones ask for forgiveness.

【Only those who abandon weakness and luck at the same time can find a foothold in the ruthless desert. 】

In contrast, Duke Cyril’s explanation for this chilling proverb seems like this...

Balance?

Unbiased?

The words of the Duke are still going on, and in this small and bright room on the top of the tower, which is invaded by the cold wind, it is a little erratic:

"If the outside world is chaotic and there are more disasters, it doesn't matter. Because no matter what kind of disaster, when it reaches the desert, it will be buried by the endless sun and thousands of years of wind and sand."

"It doesn't matter if the outside world is in a prosperous time and is drunk, it doesn't matter. The daily conflict, bloodshed and cruel ecology in the great desert will make you relearn everything you need to survive."

The Duke of Western Wilderness narrowed his eyes.

"It cannot be said to be comfortable, because its tolerance is only one side of it."

"It is not terrible, because its cruelty is just right."

During Thales’s deep thoughts, Cyril threw away the pit in his hand, his eyes shone sharply:

"Let the world flood the sky."

"Only the desert is as cold and warm as ever."

The Duke let out a long breath, turned his head and looked back at Thales, as if he had recovered from it.

Thyls quickly lowered his head, pretending to be indifferent, and continued to deal with his bread.

But Cyril didn't care:

"When I was young standing in the Western Wilderness, standing on the ancestral land, facing the endless horizon stretched out of the desert, this is what it told me."

"That is my memory of the Western Wilderness, where I was born and raised me."

But in the next second, the tone of the Duke of Western Wilderness changed.

"But..."

A chill in Cyril's eyes made Thales frowned:

"Look at now."

At that moment, Thales felt a solid mass and stagnation.

The Duke’s voice became sharp and harsh again, making one subconsciously want to cover his ears:

"After the Scarlet Year, the royal family entered the main blade camp, turning it into a purely military town, following the rules that are completely different from those in the Western Desolation and the Desert. Fairness is no longer, and the tacit understanding is gone. With the standing army With every glorious attack on the desert, the situation gets worse."

Thyls frowned slightly, thinking of the conflict between the standing army and the conscript.

"The desert that used to be the Outer Wilderness has become a dangerous war zone. Merchants are becoming scarce, mercenaries are no longer glorious, wild species have disappeared from the frontier, and the once noisy and lively border has become dangerous and silent, all All the rules are destroyed, leaving only chaos and blood."

Tyles remembered the tavern owner Tampa's lament over the bad market.

"And the orcs and desolate people in the desert, once they appear, they will be in hordes, fully armed, without leaving a living, endless alarms, endless rebellions, endless lines of defense, Let those of us who are truly home in the Western Wilderness be devastated."

Duke Falkenhauser snorted coldly:

"Only the scarlet stardust battle flag of Wings of Legend, with the sound of horseshoes and heads rolling every time he patrols the desert, fluttering high, leaving behind the glory of the royal family and the blood of the Western Wilds, And the enmity between the eight tribes and the five tribes is only getting deeper and deeper."

Tyles swallowed the last bite of bread without making a sound.

He had a premonition.

"What did the Scarlet Year bring?"

Cyril's voice suddenly increased:

"I don't know."

The duke's indifferent and sharp voice, coupled with his terrifying appearance, made people palpitate.

"The only thing I know: that is, since the **** years, since the outbreak of the Hayman War, the land of the Western Desolation has been in these eighteen years..."

He bit his words hard, sonorous and powerful:

"What has become."

Boom!

Although watching the Duke Ma Jindao press his chair and stand, Thales was taken aback by the sound of the crutches touching the ground.

Boom, boom, boom.

The crutches dropped to the ground, pushing the Duke of Western Wilderness who was obviously not tall, but had a different kind of cold body, closer and closer.

It is chilling.

Until he stopped in front of Thales.

"Now, Your Royal Highness," Cyril Falkenhauser looked at him coldly, with a sense of inescapability in his eyes:

"It's your turn to tell me: Give us the Bloody Year, give it to the Western Wilderness, give it to the people who have lived in this land for generations..."

"What did you bring?"

Tyles swallowed hard.

This was the first time he felt that even this ugly face, handicapped, accustomed cynicism, humorous ridicule, the Duke of the Western Wilderness, had such a terrifying side.

"I don't understand."

The prince suppressed the guess in his heart and replied with difficulty.

"Don't understand?"

Cyril sneered, but he was not as relaxed and humorous as before.

"Or do you not want to understand?"

His haggard face is like a skeleton that has dried for a long time, and a biting cold wind is coming out of the deep eye hole.

Thyls was about to speak, but the Duke did not give him a chance.

"The reason why there will be a **** year, the reason why there will be everything we face—is because there is a monster there."

The Duke of Western Wilderness said coldly.

What?

Thyls frowned in doubt:

"Monster?"

Boom!

Cyril's crutches hit hard:

"Yes!"

His tone is unquestionable, but he has a deep sense of disgust:

"That is a monster, a monster that feeds on power, lives on life, and makes a living on destruction."

I saw the Duke carrying the light on his back, the ravines on his face were extremely gloomy, and his leather robe fluttered and trembled in the cold wind of the tower:

"It~IndoMTL.com~Tels, it is hidden in the deepest part of the Fuxing Palace, hidden in the crown of the Supreme King, hidden in the tomb where your ancestors rest, hidden in everyone who has the right to inherit the throne Can Xing's heart."

Tyles blinked and slowly heard:

This is a metaphor.

"Every time it wakes up in a person's heart and stretches its minions, it will drive a terrible vortex, trying to absorb, crush, erode, and swallow everything in this kingdom."

"Thanks to it, the Western Wilderness - no, not only the Western Wilderness, but everything in the Star Kingdom is collapsing, destroyed, dying, and no longer exists."

In the tower, the Duke of the Western Wilds, Cyril Falkenhauser pointed to the dignified and fully guarded Prince Thales resolutely and coldly:

"And there must be someone..."

"Go and do something."

(End of this chapter)