A Tale of Strategies For the Throne

In a trance, it seemed like he was dreaming.

…………

The body sinks endlessly... falls... as if it is about to fall into the abyss...

Finally, at some point, the falling stopped.

The boy opened his eyes.

The blood-stained pale golden hair was scattered on his brown cheeks, and his golden pupils reflected the endless blue sky.

Ah, the bright sky…

…………huge stone statue…………

Thin strands of water fell on his heated face, cooling him down.

The water sprayed from the fountain splashed into the pool of white lotus flowers.

He saw the gentle and beautiful face of the stone statue of the star goddess Isdar. The water slipped from her hands and fell into the fountain. She looked down at him with eyes full of compassion.

…

The body is very heavy, as if it has lost all strength.

He clung to the stone wall of the fountain pool with one hand and barely stood up.

At this moment, his mind was in chaos, as if there were countless memory fragments flying in it, making him confused about where he was and what he was doing.

He saw a long sword abandoned at his feet. The sharp blade had been broken into pieces, and even the hilt had several cracks.

He leaned against the fountain basin, turned his head, and saw his face in the clear water.

It was the face of a young boy, no more than sixteen or seventeen years old.

He has a slightly brown complexion, a gold ring embedded with amber gems on his forehead, and his light blond hair is messy in front of his eyes.

He looked at his hand, the tiger's mouth was cracked, and blood was slowly oozing out.

Suddenly there were noisy footsteps outside, as if many people were pouring in.

He turned around.

Not far away, the two huge golden arches were entangled with green olive leaves and intertwined to form an arch.

There was a tall black figure coming from there.

The boy's pupils shrank violently.

A sense of fear surged out of his body uncontrollably.

An extremely dangerous scream sounded sharply in his head, urging him to run away from that person.

However, his body was extremely tired and his hands and feet were too heavy to move.

He could only stand leaning against the fountain basin, watching helplessly as the man walked up to him.

The breeze brushed over the young man's dark brown cheeks, lifting the dark hair that looked like the darkest night of winter.

When the forehead hair moved slightly, the shadow of the forehead hair falling on the man's eye sockets also swayed slightly.

The golden eyes that were obviously the color of flames, but at this moment, under the bright sunlight, it seemed that even a little glimmer of light could not escape.

The shadows swaying in the pupils dyed those eyes like abyss.

He stared at the young man with a gaze without any warmth, like the cruelest winter, quenched with poison, with a cold aura like a cobra king, that coldness could almost penetrate into his bones.

The man stood there, motionless, just staring at him.

The young man was leaning against the fountain pool behind him, his breathing was slightly rapid, and his vision was a little blurry.

He could only vaguely see a dozen people coming in behind the man and surrounding him in a fan shape.

"You've already lost."

Someone was talking to him.

He turned his head slightly and vaguely saw a man in light blue clothes with a blurry vision.

...That is... Heimos' confidant...

"So please don't struggle ugly anymore."

The man in blue said in a slightly mocking tone, "Prince Garlan, how about you maintain your dignity as the royal family of Aaron Landis?"

At this time, in this situation, perhaps this person is the only one who can still speak in such a vicious tone...

The young man thought so in a trance.

struggle?

He indeed no longer had the strength to struggle.

Just standing with his body propped up like this was his last effort.

he thinks.

This time, he lost again.

Brown hands reached out to him and cupped his head.

He could clearly feel the slight stinging sensation when the rough fingers grazed his cheek, as if to remind him that another death was waiting for him.

He was powerless to resist.

The next second, the boy was pressed heavily against the fountain pool. His lower body was still standing, his waist was pressed against the edge of the fountain pool, but his upper body was pressed backwards. Most of his golden hair sank into the water of the fountain pool at this moment.

The white bottle mouth was pressed against his lips, and a hand was pinching his chin, forcing his mouth open with such force that it almost crushed his jaw.

The cold liquid poured into his forced open mouth.

He raised his head, looking at the bright sky and the compassionate eyes of the goddess looking down at him...

The water drops falling from the hand of the goddess stone statue splashed on his face, cool, like tears falling from the goddess's eyes...

…………

The cold liquid poured into his throat, but it burned like a ignited flame in his throat.

Everywhere it passed seemed to be burning with blazing flames.

The hand holding him loosened and he fell heavily to the ground.

The young man's slender body curled up tightly on the ground, and he closed his eyes tightly in pain.

The lips, which were so pale that there was no trace of blood, were open and trembling, but they couldn't make any sound, as if they couldn't breathe.

His hands grasped his chest tightly, digging out bloody traces on his neck and collarbone.

His whole body was shaking with pain.

No one spoke, and at this moment, everyone was silent.

They watched in silence the last moments of the dying young prince.

Even the man who was always known for his venomous tongue remained silent at this time and just looked at him with a complicated expression.

The master they were loyal to stood in front of them, looking down at the young man who was shaking in pain at his feet. No one could see the look in Heimos's eyes at this moment.

…

Consciousness disappears little by little...

Vision is blurring.

That's fine, this way, he won't feel the pain as if countless flames were licking and devouring the flesh and blood in his body...

...He died in the hands of this man again...

…………

pain.

It hurts...

But there was no one to talk to.

No one is here anymore...no one is around him anymore...

…………

In the quiet courtyard, there was suddenly the sound of rapid footsteps, as if someone was hurriedly coming from outside.

Then, when they got closer, the footsteps stopped suddenly.

The sudden stop of footsteps restored the deathly silence to the courtyard.

The young man opened his eyes slightly, and saw that familiar figure through the thin slits under his drooping eyelashes.

His long, slightly curly brown hair was draped over his shoulders, and his tall and tall body was wrapped in a robe. His blurred vision could no longer see the person's face clearly, and he could only vaguely see the person's eyes.

The man looked down at him with a cold, emotionless look.

He just stood there coldly, looking down at him who was dying.

...Chemuler...

you are right.

[You can't beat Heimos. 】

I lost again.

you're right.

I can't beat him.

I have been annoyed, I have been unwilling, why did you betray me, why did you leave me.

…

You just made the right choice.

The dazed consciousness finally completely dissipated, and darkness fell before his eyes.

The boy lying on the ground closed his eyes and stopped breathing.

The wet blond hair stuck to his cheek, and the blood seeping from the corners of his lips was still slowly flowing down his pale cheek.

He is dead.

The throne will be given to Heimos.

Suddenly a strong wind blew in the sky. The wind swept over the pond water and stirred up deep wrinkles. The white lotus swayed in the wind, as if it was about to fall down in the water waves.

There was silence between heaven and earth at this moment.

The wind also blew through the slightly curly long hair of Shermer who was standing there motionless.

After an unknown amount of time, Heimos turned around and took steps forward.

He passed by Shermer who was standing behind him, and then stopped again.

The priest who had been standing quietly finally moved.

He stepped forward, walked to the dead young prince, leaned over, and knelt on the ground on one knee.

He stretched out his hand, as if he wanted to touch the pale face that was still a little childish.

But his fingers stopped a second before they were about to touch the other person's cheek, stagnating in mid-air, as if there was an invisible barrier blocking his hand.

After a long time, the fingertips hovering near the young man's cheek trembled slightly and finally dropped.

The blood seeping from the corners of the young man's eyes, nostrils and lips dyed Shermer's fingertips red.

Shermur knelt on the ground, lowering his head. There was still no expression on his face. His eyes seemed to have lost all their luster, leaving only a dead silence.

"Have you finally stopped hiding it, Shermer?"

The man in blue sneered and said.

"You are openly loyal to His Highness Heymos, but secretly you have been secretly helping Prince Gallan. Do you really think I don't know? If it weren't for you, this weak prince wouldn't have been able to last so long. Tsk, it cost us so much money. A long time.”

All this time, this Shermer had nominally surrendered to His Highness Heymos, but secretly helped Prince Garlan escape from the trap he had tried so hard to set time and time again.

He really couldn't understand the reason why this person insisted on doing this even though he was known as a traitor to Prince Garlan and was despised by everyone there.

He even vaguely detected that Shermer was secretly planning something detrimental to His Highness Heimos. It's just that this man was too cautious, and he couldn't catch him.

This time, he finally managed to transfer Shermuer away from the royal city, and was able to successfully arrange the killing of Prince Gallan.

At this moment, he was a little proud.

He and Shermer had grown up together, and he had been secretly competing with him, but he was always more or less defeated by Shermer.

Now, he finally wins for once.

He mocked: "Shemur, as a priest of Shamash, you have done such a thing that violates the doctrine and tramples on the oath. What qualifications do you have to serve Shamash——"

The words suddenly stopped mid-sentence.

The man in blue's throat seemed to be pinched by an invisible hand, and his voice suddenly got stuck in his throat.

The sudden sobs choked his words, and he opened his mouth with disbelief in his eyes.

The others were also petrified at this moment, stagnant in place.

The priest kneeling on the ground was crying.

The priest of Shamash, who was always indifferent and resolute, as if he never knew what emotions were, was crying bitterly in front of everyone.

His originally neat robe was now stained with mud and lay crumpled on the ground.

His originally clean hands held the dead boy tightly, and his palms were covered with blood and dust.

The wet blond hair mixed with blood clung to his cheek.

The tears falling from his eyes fell on the young man's pale face.

It seemed that all the human emotions that he had abandoned for more than twenty years...or that had been sealed deep in his heart for more than twenty years, burst out at this moment.

Tearing his whole body to pieces.

His whole body was out of control at this moment.

He held the dead boy tightly in his arms, crying bitterly as if he had lost everything, as if he had completely collapsed.

The man in blue was very surprised and a little caught off guard.

In all the years he had known Shermer, he had never seen this man's face change much.

Who would have thought that when I saw him for the first time, he would be so out of control.

"Shemer, you, what are you..."

He actually didn't know what to say for a moment. For the first time in his life, his smart tongue was tied up.

"He is already dead. Just admit your mistake...well...as long as you admit your mistake, I will intercede for you so that His Highness Heymos will not hold you responsible. As long as you assist His Highness well in the future, I will..."

He was stammering a little when he suddenly heard a clang.

That was the sound of a sharp knife being drawn out of its sheath.

He turned his head and saw that his young master had drawn the sword from his waist.

The unsheathed snow-white sword blade reflected a cold light in the sunlight.

The man in blue was startled, then quickly stepped forward to stop him.

"Wait a minute, Your Highness." He said anxiously, "Shemurr's intelligence and bravery have always been on par with mine. It would be a pity to kill him like this. Please give me some time, and I will persuade him to surrender to you... …”

"it's useless."

A deep voice interrupted the man in blue, and a hand pushed him away.

"You can't persuade him," Heimos said.

His cold golden-red eyes stared at Shemuer's back. Even under the bright sunlight, his eyes were always sunk in the rich darkness.

When light does not enter, shadow follows.

He said, "Since you are loyal to him, go with him to the kingdom of the dead."

The sharp sword turned around, and a cold light passed through the air.

Huymos didn't even turn around.

He just stood sideways, holding the sword behind his back and stabbing backwards.

The sharp blade penetrated Shemuer's back.

The drop of bright red blood rolled down from the tip of the sword that penetrated his chest, dyeing the pale corners of the young man's eyes in his arms red.

Heimos drew out his sharp sword and inserted the blood-stained blade into the scabbard.

He strode forward without looking back.

The black cloak flew behind him like the unfolding night.

The man in blue followed his master away, but at the end, he couldn't help but look back.

A wind blew through the courtyard, brushing the priest's brown hair draped over his shoulders.

Under the stone statue of the goddess Isdar, the dead priest knelt there, guarding the prince who seemed to be sleeping in his arms.

…………

The author has something to say: [You can't beat Heimos. 】

…

So, it's up to me.

I will protect you.