Kingdom’s Bloodline Chapter 73: Predecessors
In the mansion hall of Secret Manor, Thales stopped in front of a portrait facing the porch.
"This is Leinster Kevin Deere."
Raphael's voice came from behind.
The man in the painting looks handsome and well-dressed. He sits on a red leather chair and plays with a slightly out of sheath dagger in his hands-the exposed blade transmits cold light and is covered with a bladed dagger sheath Inlaid gems.
"One of the six knights of the King of Revival-Deadly Iris."
Hearing this surname and nickname, if Thales realized something, he looked at the tapestry under the frame:
[Leinster P.T. Kevin Deere, first 27-20]
"Seven hundred years ago, he paid for Prince Tormond, who had not yet been crowned king, and recruited and trained the first batch of professional spies and spies. He made great contributions to the end of the battle and the establishment of the stars. He was the first in the kingdom. An intelligence chief."
Raphael stared at the portrait, as if staring at a real person:
"Recognized as the founder of Kingdom Secret Section."
The deadly iris painted by the artist is only 30 or 40 years old, with a focused expression but frowning slightly, revealing a melancholy and melancholic temperament, as if there is endless sadness hidden in his chest, which cannot be resolved.
Make viewers feel compassionate.
Leinster Kevin Deere.
The founder of Secret Branch.
The prince thought:
"He is also the ancestor of the Kevin Deere family, the first Duke of the South Bank?"
"Exactly."
Thyls nodded and said nothing, following in Raphael's footsteps.
Stepping into the room, stepping on the star-blue carpet commonly seen in the kingdom, the hall of the mansion in front of Thales is open and bright, completely different from the old and sparse outside the manor.
Thyls looked around:
"It seems bigger than it looks outside."
The sun shone through the window, and the silver double cross stars on the wall carpet and flags were shining brightly, which was unexpectedly deep and dark.
"Thanks to the original owner of this manor, the architectural layout is ingenious, and the universe is hidden."
Raphael did not squint, and kept walking.
"Unfortunately, the manor was poured with blood mold during the Scarlet Year, and it was almost burned to ruins."
"Otherwise it will not become our headquarters."
Several people in casual clothes are sitting busy in the hall, some dealing with documents, some talking in low voices, turning a blind eye to them.
There is almost no difference from an ordinary municipal department.
Almost.
Raphael led the teenager into a side hall.
Whether it is the shape of the corners, the pillars, the handrails of the stairs, or even the ceiling, Thales can see the luxury and glory of the past here, the historical precipitation, but Raphael's pace is fast, and he is obviously used to this rhythm. Juveniles have the meaning of appreciation, and they can only watch flowers.
Until he saw another classical bust portrait in a corridor.
[Halva·C·M·Karabyan, first 14-65]
The man in the painting is almost middle-aged, but there is no twilight between his brows. He even has a slight smile at the corners of his mouth, looking simple and sincere.
It is in contrast to Leinster, who is in the treasure city.
"That's Manager Halva."
Noting that Thales' pace has slowed down, Raphael only glanced at him to tell the identity of the person in the painting:
"Leinster's deputy and successor."
Thyls moved in his heart.
Raphael nodded slowly:
"Thanks to his talent and perseverance, the intelligence network originally controlled by Leinster did not become a short-lived accident after the death of "Deadly Iris" because of its poor reputation. Instead, it was officially named the "Secret of the Kingdom". Ke', recruiting talents, custom-made rules, passed on all the way to this day."
Thyls moved his gaze to the wall carpet under the picture frame, with a sentence embroidered with gold thread on it. The font is primitive, half-text and half-white, between the modern imperial language and contemporary common language:
【The eyes and ears of the king, the night whistle of the country, knowing the secret, the responsibility of our branch. 】
Raphael continued:
"Of course, Halva eventually rose from the position of chief intelligence officer and became the prime minister of the kingdom with less than one person and more than ten thousand people."
"Zhixiang," Thales recalled Gilbert's history class while repeating this nickname:
"Karabyan,'Chi Sang'?"
He has a weird face.
"I know what you are thinking."
Raphael thought of something and sighed:
"Whenever this nickname and this last name are put together..."
"The contrast is great, right?"
Thyls snorted, then resisted the desire to curl his mouth, calmly face, and continued on.
They walked smoothly and quietly, crossing countless corridors, endless halls, and occasionally someone passed by holding a stack of scrolls, appeared from this door, disappeared at another door, their pace was tight, and they were in a busy state. Nodded.
"It seems that not many people are on duty?" The prince asked curiously.
"Whether it’s because of a prince’s accident in the Western Wilderness, or a prince’s accident at a banquet, many people have spent days and nights out of shifts," Raphael did not care about Thales’ face :
"Have mercy on them."
Thyls had to shrug awkwardly.
"But what are we doing here? Since Kevin Deere cannot be punished, and you can't do anything about the case."
Raphael glanced at him and was about to answer, but a door behind him suddenly opened and a man stopped them:
"Raphael, the butts have finished preparing the white glove business, do you want to come and see?"
When the man said this, he kept looking at Thales, hesitant to salute but hesitated.
Raphael was thoughtful, but Thales frowned.
"He said, butts?"
Tyles approached Raphael suspiciously and asked in a low voice:
"Ass?"
Raphael turned his head and spread his hands indifferently, as if not seeing the prince’s face:
"It's a special group under me. I told you the full name."
"Does it need to be repeated?"
Tyles forced himself to squeeze a smile.
Raphael raised his eyebrows understandingly, and walked back to the man: "Very well, Dani, let's check the procedure. It won't be long."
"By the way, put your eyes in a normal place."
The man at the door immediately retracted his glance at Thales.
Thyls was waiting to follow up, but was blocked by the Desolate Man:
"No, I will come out soon. You will wait for me here, don't move around."
Raphael left him a pleasant smile and closed the door.
Thyls, who remained in the corridor, rolled his eyes.
Huh, wipe your ass.
The corridor was still quiet, and Thales was bored, so he just took a few more steps and looked at the portraits hanging on both sides of the corridor: mostly men from mature to middle-aged, either calm and serious, or aggressive.
In contrast, one of the special paintings first attracted his attention:
That is a full-length portrait of a woman.
She lay on the dark sofa with a stretched posture, her complexion was fair and beautiful, her facial features were profound, her clothes were full of exotic style, and she even showed her slender thighs, showing her **** and seductive figure, under the painter’s brilliant pen , Even her curled toes looked green and delicate, arousing love.
However, unlike the figure that makes the man's blood bloated, the expression on this lady's face is cold and mysterious, and she doesn't care about everything around her.
Comparing the two, Thales looked at her, sometimes seeing her amorous feelings, sometimes feeling noble and inviolable.
Thyls moved his eyes to the bottom of the frame:
[Alf Serdu Ka Mimo Humble, 39-77]
"This is Alf."
A thicker voice came from behind, with the western accent that Thales was familiar with:
"People call her the'Oriental Pornography'. This is one of the few portraits of her that have not been burned."
Thyls turned around and was slightly surprised when he saw the person coming.
"Wait, I recognize you, you are..."
Behind him is a well-groomed man with a slightly darker complexion. He salutes Thales respectfully, as he did at the Yaga camp:
"My dear Nobu."
"It's an honor to see you again, and I'm glad you are at ease now, Your Highness Thales--or should I say, Duke Xinghu?"
Thyls looked at him in surprise, and finally confirmed the identity of the other party:
The secret department cadre who dared to face the Wings of Legend in front of thousands of troops in the Blade Ya camp.
Nob.
Just...
"Why are you here?"
Tyles' eyes moved subconsciously to Nob's right leg.
Nothing was unusual on the surface, but the prince noticed that Nob was holding a cane in his right hand, supporting half of his body.
Nob smiled faintly and respectfully:
"I'm back to report on my work, for... the Western Wilderness."
Thyls knew it well.
"Really," Thales hesitated for a moment, but couldn't help asking:
"How are your legs, you?"
Nob is stuck.
He slowly turned his head, looked at his right leg, then at his crutches, his face appeared lonely.
"Thank you for your concern."
"The secret department has a good medicine, but..."
Nob forced a self-deprecating smile and clicked on the crutches in his right hand:
"I have to learn to get used to this stuff."
Thyls was silent for a while.
He remembered the scene where Roman arrogantly interrupted Nob's right leg in the desert in order to help cover up the news, suddenly feeling a little guilty.
"I'm sorry."
Nob shook his head and put away his low mood:
"It's not your fault."
"Furthermore, if it weren't for this leg," he laughed:
"It is estimated that they will not let me come back so easily. It is a blessing in disguise, and it is unknown."
Looking at his self-deprecating and open-mindedness, Thales didn't know what to say.
Nobu obviously noticed the embarrassment of the atmosphere. He quickly turned around and looked at the woman in the painting, using topics to drive away the momentary depression:
"In short, Alf came from the Humble dynasty of Eastland, and it is said to be the legacy of the exile of Amma Mimo Humble of the ‘Great Cardil’."
Alf.
Thyls has doubts:
"So, Alf? She is a foreigner, and a woman... and a member of the secret department?"
Strangely, Nob shook his head first, then nodded again.
"After the failure of the Northern Expedition of'Black Eye' John I and the dismissal of the'Zhixiang' Halva, the Kingdom's Secret Section was not trusted, and the future was uncertain and faltered."
Nob looked at the alien women in the painting, his eyes deep:
"Until Kurome decides to give this tasteless little toy to his favorite pillow lover-like a rewarding vacant job, or simply a gift-as a way to persuade the ministers to keep her with him Reason."
The king's lover?
Thyls looked back subconsciously, wanting to take a closer look at this Ms. Alf.
She still looks indifferent in the painting, and she has a comfortable posture, not caring about the eyes of outsiders.
"With contempt and hostility from the inside out, Alf withstood the pressure to fight for the budget, reorganized and saved this dying department with low morale."
Nob seems to sigh:
"Yes, in those years, Oriental Pornstar controlled the circulation of intelligence and spread the news network. It was an anonymous but real secret chief, intelligence chief."
He was in awe:
"And she did the job very well."
"Even too good."
"So after the death of Black Eye, she was sent to the guillotine for murdering the king, and was cast aside by thousands of people."
Thyls was surprised:
"What?"
Musing the king?
Nob smiled and shook his head:
"It’s not her--it can force Exeter’s ten big families to abandon their antagonisms and unite together, and even have to ask for help from the dragon to avoid the country’s subjugation and extinction. How can'Black Eyes' mistakenly believe in Xiao Xiao Yi and Generation."
Nobu, leaning on a cane, took a few steps forward, pointing to the sentence embroidered with gold thread under Alf's name:
[Plan is a bitch, don't believe it-even if you give enough money. 】
"But behind Heimou, his three sons inherited his ambitions, but none of them have the talents of their father."
"I know this part, ending the end of the first century of the calendar," Thales took his words:
"Samsung separates, brothers defy the wall, cracks the earth and fights for the king, and the war continues."
Nob nodded, his vision is far-reaching:
"So, when you don't have the corresponding merits, but you want to overwhelm the other two and wear the nine-star crown left by your father..."
He looked at Alf and said quietly:
"The quickest way is to avenge the first king, and if you want revenge..."
The prince reacted, he raised his eyes in a daze, and took the conversation:
"You have to have a murderer first."
Thyls looked at the charming lady on the wall.
"I have seen this story."
"Foreign female spies and **** who are favored by the king and jealous of everyone at the same time, but are beautiful and superb," the boy understood something, his voice was low:
"There is no better scapegoat for conspiring against the king."
Nob nodded.
The prince stared at Alf's shadow, imagining this former alien beauty with shaggy face and shackles, covered in bruises and shackles, under the cold gaze of the conspirator, against the curses of thousands of people Limping and walking alone on the guillotine scene.
At that moment, her head was probably high.
As if he had guessed what Thales wanted, Nob took a deep breath and smiled.
"Don't worry, when the King of Taiping Kessel I was crowned, the three-star separation ended, and the kingdom was reunited, the "Oriental Movie" was rehabilitated."
Thyls felt relieved.
He looked at Alf's most beautiful appearance, and felt a little less sad.
"So I can still see her portrait here."
But Nob shook his head and denied.
"Redraw."
Thyls looked back in surprise.
"By the time this painting was completed, Oriental Yanying had already passed away," Nob sighed:
"The artisans can only rely on a few memories to restore her past style of wandering the pinnacle of power as a woman and ruling the underground world."
"But you can see how they exhaust their talents, they are extremely imaginative..."
Looking at Alf who was drawn in a sultry curve, Nob shook his head disappointedly.
Thyls and Nob were both silent for a while.
After a while, Nob reacted:
"Are you waiting for someone?"
"Yeah," Thales said with complaint.
Ass guys.
The prince looked at the room where Raphael entered, and shrugged:
"He... can't get out for a while"
"In that case," Nob kindly reached out to the next painting in the hallway:
"Do you mind?"
Tyles nodded and followed him forward.
This is much more interesting than Bona’s grammar class and Raphael’s satire.
Nob raised his hand and stretched it to the other side:
"Gamber Tebuck, known as the Dark Moon."
Thyls turned his head.
[Gamber·W·B·Tebuck, 137-215]
"Tebak? The ruling family of blade leaders, the blood moon of Bladeling City?"
Thyls thought of the Duchess Lyanna who hadn't seen her for many years.
The director of the painting, Gamber, is middle-aged, with a blessed body and a noble face. Poorly, he puts the weight of his whole body on the cane in front of him, and makes him straighten his chest and abdomen. Somewhat stiff and funny, coupled with his lost hairline...
In another world, it's probably "not photogenic".
"He was an intelligence chief who served three generations of kings at the end of the second century and the beginning of the third century."
Nob nodded:
"From the "Broken Vessel" Sumei I to the "Climbing King" Eland I, and even the "Thorns" Tormund III, the three kings all leaned on him as their arms and trusted him."
The King of Ascend.
Hearing the familiar name, Thales couldn't help but compare it with Gilbert's history class, and he looked cold after thinking of something.
Nob language with remembrance:
"Don't look at his appearance, but for people born in our age, I am afraid it is difficult to imagine the contribution, significance, and influence of Master Gan Bo to the kingdom."
"Why?"
Nob exhaled:
"Because in history books, everyone only sees kings and prime ministers, generals and dukes. They are impressed by their vision and accomplishments, but they don't know or ignore the sordidness of the night."
"Because it’s also hard for us to imagine how terrible the Church of Sunset had the right to speak and influence in the kingdom in the era before Gamber Tebac—they were as large as conquering territories and ruling inheritance, as small as Marriage and funeral, firewood, rice, oil and salt."
"One order can be changed, one word can be decided."
Thyls thoughtfully, Nob shook his head:
"At that time, the king's scepter was lighter than the bishop's robe, the people's loyalty originated from the devotion of prayer, and the eyes of the gods were the fate of the world."
The next moment, Nob raised his head and looked back seriously:
"But since Gamber was in charge of the King of Secret Division, to the end of his glorious life and the end of the city, half a century has passed..."
"The believers in the setting sun split into two major factions, the church and the temple, with endless disputes and declining internal friction."
"They can no longer interfere with the royal family's inheritance genealogy, let alone interfere with the kingdom's major policies, let alone dominate the daily lives of the people."
Tyles frowned, and Megan, the priest who talked about the "difference between the young and old" in theology class, appeared in front of him—well, the nervous little nun.
"In the end, the gods became lofty again and illusory, and their followers had to lower their prayer heads to the Nine Stars Crown, and gradually withdraw from the center of power of the stars."
Nob looked at the plain-looking Gamber, his eyes gleaming:
"During this period, Director Gamber hid his reputation, but he made great contributions."
Sure enough.
Thyls stood in front of Gamber's portrait: people shouldn't look like.
But he said it too early.
Because the next painting Nob pointed out to him was a little old man with a humpback face.
[William, 226-306]
[Instead of making people scary, it's better to be underestimated. 】
"Humpbacked William." Nob introduced.
William in the painting is mediocre and quite satisfactory. Not only is there no brilliance, but also because of his hunchback, he looks deformed and ugly.
"The first chief of intelligence who was born a civilian—as you can see, he has no surname—he has been in charge of secret science for 50 years since the middle of the third century. He has been conscientious and diligent."
Nob's crutches lightly touched, he looked at William's hunchback, and seemed to feel the same:
"When people talk about the legendary regency that the Queen Dowager Tiethorn did not fall through seven dynasties, they always ignore this low-key servant who was at the same time as her."
Nob said to himself, ignoring Thales for a moment.
"But it was also William, the intelligence chief who lacked both great service and noble reputation. Together with the Queen Mother, he managed to support the weakest, darkest, and most dangerous in the history of the Star Kingdom. Half a century."
Thyls lowered his head, remembering the origin of Ballard room.
"Do I bore you?"
"Of course not," Thales returned to his senses, his manner standard:
"Please continue."
Nob's eyes lit up.
"Ah, I thought about it, this senior in secret science, you must be more interested~ IndoMTL.com~ He took Thales a few steps forward, past several secret managers, and stopped at the most outstanding one. Next to his portrait.
Thyls was stunned: Unlike the other portraits, this painting is framed in silver, which is very different.
It was the young woman in the painting that caught his eye even more.
She was riding on a horse, with all her armor and sword, and her expression confident and calm, as if she was about to rush out of the frame in the next moment and pierce the long sword in the viewer's heart.
This is the second woman in the painting that Thales saw in Secretarie besides Alf.
More importantly-Thales squinted at the pattern engraved on the lady's armor, surprised:
Nothing wrong.
That is...
Nine-pointed star.
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