Kingdom’s Bloodline

In the training ground at night, Thales strode forward quickly, with weapons and swords criss-crossing!

Two crisp sounds.

One in front of the other, the two pendulums hanging in the air were deftly pushed apart by him.

Thales took the opportunity to bully him, passed through the gap opened by the pendulum, and practiced stabbing the person directly in front of him with his sword!

Boom.

His blunt sword hit the thick wooden shield in the opponent's hand, and there was a muffled sound.

From a touch point of view, the effect is good.

But he's running out of time.

In the narrow field of view of the helmet, Thales gritted his teeth, retreated the same way, and retreated rapidly!

He wanted to return to the starting point unscathed.

There was a creaking sound of the rope swinging.

The pendulum closest to the boy echoed, getting closer and closer.

Thales' nerves were tense, so he could only speed up the push of his calf to the ground, trying his best to maintain his precarious balance during the backwards.

The sins of Hell River in his body felt tense, and they became restless, but Thales didn't care about it.

call!

The pendulum barely missed his shoulder, missing him.

Thales breathed a sigh of relief.

Very good, only the last one left...

"clang!"

Before he could finish thinking, Thales felt a sharp pain in his eardrums!

His helmet buzzed as it was struck by the second pendulum.

What the hell……

Thales lowered his body uncomfortably, threw away the long sword, pulled his neck out of the helmet three times and five times, and rubbed his left ear with unbearable tinnitus and unbearable pain.

Straight ahead, the guard of the prime of life who was training with Thales—the vanguard officer Fu Lateng, who was about 30 years old, always suppressed his laughter when the prince made a fool of himself—put down his shield and looked at the officers present.

"Steady pace."

Mallos stepped forward, patted the lime-white spot on Fulateng's shield, and looked thoughtfully at the two pendulums that were tangled together as they swung back and forth, making it difficult to separate each other.

"Strength must be ruthless, sword stabbing must be accurate, and movements must be correct."

"The most important thing is not to be hit by the reverberating pendulum."

"As long as one of the five is not in place, practice does not count."

Without sympathy, Mallos looked away from the prince who was suffering from tinnitus, knocked on Fulateng's shield, and gestured to the guard Kongmuto on the side.

"Again."

Kong Mutuo walked off the field and exchanged a brand new shield for the thick shield covered in lime spots in Fu Lateng's hand.

Thales managed to straighten out his painful left ear, and got up annoyed:

"I do not understand."

"Why is this training so rigid: you have to go straight up and down, you can't block with a sword, you can't roll over... just to compare the speed with two reverberating pendulums?"

Thales looked resentfully at the metal pendulum swinging back and forth like a swing in front of him.

Thank goodness—or, politically correct, thanks to the sunset—that the static stances and confrontation drills in his martial arts class had come to an end not long ago.

But instead practice at the fencing target.

Thales looked at the pendulum hanging in the air, connected to the freely propellable wheel frame.

In the past few days, from pendulum training, to piercing training, dodging training, stabbing training...

There are no less than seven or eight kinds of targets alone, and there are multiple choices with different difficulties in each kind of training, and there are many tricks.

Of course, the way Thales was beaten was also refurbished every day: the helmet was deformed by the swinging pendulum, foamed at the mouth by the faster and faster wheel, and dusty by the sandbags falling from the sky. , was dizzy by the targets shouted out of sequence...

To say something that he would not admit to death...

He misses Dead Face a little.

Nicolai's training is to destroy your self-confidence in endless setbacks.

The training of Mallos is to wear down your patience in boring repetitions.

In the training ground, the usual guards looked at each other, and the logistics officer Piluojia who was in charge of the equipment on the sidelines cleverly handed over the water glass to buy some rest time for Thales.

As time went by, the young Duke of Xinghu gradually became familiar with his Xinghu Guards, which consisted of more than 20 people, even if he managed (taught) thousands of machines (classes) every day.

In the vanguard team, I don’t know whether it’s because of family background or personality. Karen Glover is faintly the leader, while “Zombie” himself is introverted, reliable, and has no complaints (in contrast to D.D). With the trust of Mallos, the watchman entrusted him with many tasks, and under the leadership of Glover, the eight vanguard officers under the Duke of Thales were all vigorous and resolute, with distinctive personalities, and had fought against Thales before. His left-handed swordsman Zoneveld, including Fu Lateng who is now training him, is among them.

The six-member bodyguard team is the closest to Thales, and unexpectedly, Danny Doyle, who is gag and cynical, actually thrives in it ("Who doesn't want to be with a rich local tyrant?" What about my friends?"—Mallos' inadvertent words during the meal), there are a lot of friends who are united as one, and they don't hesitate to bully men and women for the sake of the prince. Kong, who once competed with Thales and was promoted from a police officer to a guard Muto is also one of them.

There are six people in the punishment wing and the support wing, led by Gray Patterson, a fastidious little bald old man ("Hey, you know why the guy's nickname is 'The Gardener'? Because ah, once he was in the grass I caught a guy cheating on the maid, and then——Hey, Mr. Patterson, you are here, my one, I need to go first, hehe!"—I met him at the corner after thirty seconds Doyle of Paterson).

De Ward Storr, who is in charge of the logistics, has a pleasant face, and often asks Thales with a smile if he is satisfied with the food and expenses (“How stupid do you have to be to believe that the guys in charge of bookkeeping and money management are good people?”— — Doyle biting into bread).

Hugo Fubi, who is in charge of the flag wing, has a gloomy expression, but he seems to be elusive, and walks silently ("It probably died a few years ago, and only ghosts are left floating in the air, but we don't know it." ——Full face Doyle, picking his teeth with enjoyment), he and his two standard-bearer subordinates only interacted with Mallos, and rarely participated directly in the affairs of the guard.

And (according to Thales' malicious speculation) the captain of the personal guard who "hits everyone is 50-50", the watchman of the guard, the respected Wang Yuyan-cough-cough-Lord Tormund Mallos, took his direct subordinate The three subordinates, as well as the leaders of the five wings above, arranged the complex and newcomer Xinghu guards in an orderly manner, and their work went smoothly, especially when the banquet was about to come.

"Target practice doesn't mean you can be opportunistic and tell stories."

Mallos looked at Piloga in disbelief—D.D, who was supposed to serve the prince, hadn’t finished his kitchen sentence—passed the water glass to Thales:

"In the past six years, you have learned from the Northlanders that it is a desperate skill to dismantle one's tricks."

"This may have given birth to your power of termination..."

"But that also means exchanging blood for blood, seeking victory in danger, moving forward even if you are red-eyed, and gritting your teeth even if you cut off your blade. crazy."

The watchman's eyes narrowed slightly:

"In reality, this kind of situation will only happen when the weak attack the strong, and the odds of winning are extremely small. If you fight with your back to the wall, you will win if you don't succeed."

Thales returned the water glass to Piloga, soothing his sore muscles.

"But more often, you will hold a lot of bargaining chips, but face complex enemies and more constraints. If you pull a hair, you will move your whole body. You have choices but it is difficult to choose."

Mallos narrowed his eyes:

"At this time, what you need is not only the will to sacrifice your life for a moment, but to cultivate the accumulated movements, habits, concentration, calmness, sharpness, and courage in daily training."

"That's why you're here today."

Well, Thales admitted that, at least in terms of lip service, Mallos can still abuse the Meteor, just listen to this routine...

As for the others?

"The battle is a well-prepared and meticulous plan. You must consider all aspects, take every factor into consideration, and be fully prepared, rather than muddling along and doing whatever you want," Mallos said leisurely:

"This is the opinion left by the former watchman of the guard. He is highly skilled and was also responsible for guarding the Mindis Hall."

Thales' thinking paused for a moment.

This time, the prince turned his head and looked again at the vast but exquisite and unique courtyard of Mindis Hall with complicated emotions.

With the breeze blowing and the lights shining, the Mindis Hall at night is more like a tourist attraction than a serious royal family garden.

Former watchman.

Guard Mindyth Hall.

"Your ex."

Thales turned around:

"You know him?"

Unexpectedly, Mallos looked deep and thoughtful:

"Yes."

"I know him."

Before Thales showed a slightly surprised expression, Mallos leisurely added:

"From the historical records."

After a second.

Thales exhaled and rolled his eyes.

You know a hammer.

"Of course, I know that sword target practice is boring, far less interesting than fighting with real people."

Mallos took Thales' water bag:

"Just like what you have already learned, there are three major schools of martial arts in China: martial arts, trendy, and offensive and defensive."

The watchman turned his head and glanced at Piloga and Kongmuto, who came to train the prince in shifts.

Both of them changed color.

Mallos waved to the older logistics officer and the short and stout guard officer, and smiled:

"That's enough to digest for a while."

Piloga and Kongmuto breathed a sigh of relief, smiled again, and nodded politely to the prince.

"But they can only be considered unique in style, far from the mainstream of today's martial arts."

"Well, when will you pass the first stage of sword target practice."

Mallos turned around:

"Let's go back to confrontation training. Some of our lads are talented. They can show and teach you the two dominant martial arts mainstreams in the schools of Star Country and even the entire Western Continent, jumping out of regional differences."

Taylor's eyes moved:

"Dominance? Two mainstreams?"

"Yes," Mallos said, with the allure of a grandmother telling a story:

"From the age of empires, they have fought against each other for thousands of years. They have experienced countless times on the way, witnessed thousands of events, and have been handed down to the present day."

Thales asked:

"And that is?"

Mallos didn't answer any more, but just shook his head and gestured to Fu Lateng on the other side of the pendulum.

The latter twisted the corner of his mouth, raised his shield silently, and returned to behind the pendulum.

Thales sighed, stood up resignedly, and put on his helmet.

Under the moonlight and lights, footsteps and sword swings sounded again on the training ground.

Finally, after Thales didn't know how long it took, how many times he hit the shield, and how many pendulum hammers he suffered, Mallos spoke softly:

"Well, the actions these few times are good, quite qualified."

Thank goodness—well, thank the sunset.

Thales let out a breath and put his long sword on the ground.

until……

"Then do it twenty more times."

Mallos was beaming.

Thales' drooping little face tightened again:

"What?"

"But the pace, strength, precision, movement, including the damn pendulum...I did all five very well!"

The boy protested angrily.

"Yes, Your Highness, you have done all five items very well, so in order to maintain such a good state..."

Mallos smiled and said:

"Let's strengthen it again."

Thales felt that the night was very long.

Finally, after twenty standard pendulum stab training (including countless times of it, and more and more failures that are not counted in the total), Thales collapsed on the ground, only to breathe .

"I've heard that 'Raging Sea' is an improvisation on the front line of life and death."

Thales was still lying still, but he was struggling to raise his head, trying to divert the topic and avoid the next "consolidation":

"And this is the best training you've found for me? Tired of me?"

"Does it really have practical significance?"

Mallos snorted softly and motioned for the others to start cleaning up.

"If you really want to talk about the practical significance, Your Highness, in your opinion, as the Duke of Xinghu and the second prince."

"How many chances do you have to go to the battlefield and face the enemy?"

As the Duke of Xinghu and the second prince.

The opportunity to face the enemy head-on on the battlefield...

Sitting on the ground, Thales tilted his head and looked at the sky, frowned and recalled:

It seems that...

Quite a lot.

Mallos spoke sarcastically:

"So, according to what you said, why don't you learn how to blow the harshest whistle, shout the loudest 'help', and then wait for other people to kill for you and save you when you are most critical and most needed?"

Thales twitched the corner of his mouth on the ground.

I want it too.

Think beautifully.

"Different from the ancient aristocrats who personally led troops and charged forward thousands of years ago, today, the existence of the martial arts class does not require you to become a warrior who can stand up to ten, or a vanguard who goes into battle in person."

"That's someone else's job."

Mallos glanced at him:

"Our work."

The watchman's attitude became serious:

"In the royal family and even most of the high-ranking nobles, this lesson is just for you to know and empathize with: in the past, those warriors who were close to death by your ancestors, in the future, those warriors under you who are desperate..."

"While they fought and died for you one after another..."

"You have to know what they have experienced and what they will face."

"In order not to forget."

Thales, who was lying on the ground, exhaled, recalling the bloody scenes in the past: Birch Forest, Broken Dragon Fortress, Dragon Clouds City, Saber Camp...

Thales sighed:

"Believe it or not, I know more than you...more than a lot of people."

Mallos walked to him and appeared backwards in Thales' field of vision, blocking the stars in the sky:

"I have no intention of questioning you."

"But it's more than that."

The watchman said quietly:

"Everyone, including our royal guard, has made such an oath and upholds the belief: if a crisis comes, a battle will break out, and we will sacrifice everything to protect our master."

"But there's only one person who can't think like that." His tone suddenly became harsh.

Thales' expression changed.

"you."

Mallos' tone was indifferent, as if he didn't care:

"You must always imagine and prepare: what should you do when we are unable to perform our duties or are not even around?"

Unable to perform duties, not even by my side...

For some reason, Thales suddenly appeared in front of Thales the deep black prison under the Prison of Bones.

The boy closed his eyes, then opened them again.

"You mean, when even my closest and most trusted guards betray me and abandon their master?"

For a moment, the air on the training ground seemed to be still, and the guards on shift were all stunned.

Mallos was silent for a second.

"I didn't say that."

But Thales ignored him.

"Then will you?"

The Duke looked straight at the captain of the personal guard above his head:

"Maybe for a better, higher reason..."

"betray me?"

Fu Lateng at the side glanced at Mallos subconsciously.

This is not easy to answer.

But Mallos just looked at the prince fixedly, without saying a word for a few seconds.

Maybe it's autumn, or maybe it's because the temperature in the training ground is not high at night, Thales lying on the ground only feels the coolness behind him.

"You should go take a shower."

Mallos' voice was still indifferent:

"Rest early."

"After all, your welcome banquet will begin in fifteen hours."

"I hope tonight can help you relieve tension."

Yeah, welcome to the banquet.

The damn party.

Thales sighed, and hit the back of his head back on the ground.

The guards on duty began to pack their bags.

In the distance, a listless figure limped close, followed by another robust figure.

"Is this the end for you?"

Doyle with a tired face came in front of Mallos, followed by Glover who was usually expressionless:

"At least give me a chance to get close to the prince, otherwise tomorrow my father..."

Mallos didn't even look at him, but walked straight ahead:

"how's it going?"

Doyle looked at Mallos dispassionately:

"Don't worry, these few days I'm in the back kitchen, in the warehouse, in the haunted rooms in Mindis Hall where the ashes have been piled up for hundreds of years, and I'm following behind Shi Tuo, never taking my eyes off, not leaving for a moment, and with a group of maids—cough cough— —The servants have made a good relationship and sorted out the situation..."

"At tomorrow's banquet, at least no one will be able to poison the prince and his distinguished guests—of course, we don't know about aphrodisiacs."

Mallos chuckled, ignoring Doyle's euphemistic complaints.

"It has been coordinated with the Security Office, the Royal Standing Army, including the fellow guards of the Fuxing Palace. There is no problem with the arrangement of personnel and positions, even after His Majesty leaves the field," Glover behind Doyle said coldly:

"Nobody can threaten him, let alone assassinate him."

Mallos was silent for a while.

"Poisoning? Assassination?"

The watchman turned around and looked at Thales who was lying on the ground looking at the stars in the distance, his eyes were fixed:

"That's the least of my worries."

————

Today is October 30th, which is the "Holy Day" commemorating the first defeat of the orcs in human history.

It is said that in this traditional festival, from Jingbi Island to Devil Sea, from Sigh Mountain to Flame Sea, the whole world celebrates with joy.

Thales still remembered that this was the "Fat Sheep Day" as the beggars called it - on this day, the citizens all over the street celebrated and paraded noisily, regardless of where their wallets were, which was the cutest.

Unfortunately, for Prince Thales, today is no longer "Fat Sheep Day", but his damned homecoming welcome banquet.

Thales has only attended one banquet since he was a child.

And that experience obviously cannot be used as a reference——The dignified Duke of Xinghu can't roll up his sleeves, raise his wine glass, and yell at the guests in the Mindis Hall, "Eat! Drink! Hit! Grass! Do whatever you want!", right?

But I have to say that he didn't realize how difficult this job was until the next afternoon, when Thales, as the host of the banquet, stood under the statue of the Three Star Kings to welcome the guests.

"Look at you, what a man."

The Viscount Patterson in front of him was old, and his body was only older. He was supported by two nephews to attend the banquet, his eyes were cloudy, but his status was important, and he belonged to the kind of distinguished guest that Thales needed to greet in person—he ruled Vernon. The Debao area is an important eastern hub of the Central Territory, and I am a direct vassal of the royal family.

Ranked among the seven servants of Canxing.

Among all the heavyweight VIPs, he was the first and arrived early, which made Thales, who was undergoing makeup and dressing in the lounge, reciting the banquet process and various etiquettes, in a hurry, had to disrupt the arrangement, and hurried out to greet him .

I saw Viscount Patterson tremblingly but unceremoniously pushing away the two nephews who were supporting him, leaning forward, and holding Thales' arm firmly.

"I still remember... eighteen years ago, I sat in the Hall of Stars... watching your father, crowned king."

"Now..." the old Viscount gasped.

Glover and Doyle stood nervously around the prince, their knees slightly bent, their bodies leaning forward, as if they were ready to jump out at any moment.

But Thales felt that this was not to protect him, but to fear that the octogenarian, who was struggling to speak, fell to the ground and died suddenly.

"The prince held a banquet, was ruthless, while talking and laughing, the old minister was wiped out"-this kind of news is better to be less.

Thales maintained a smile, followed the standard royal etiquette taught by Professor Jinie, maintained demeanor without losing amiability, lightly grasped the old viscount's goose-like palm, always paid attention to the other's balance, and asked gently about his health (The viscount was deaf, and his nephew had to repeat the prince's words aloud several times in his ear).

Just like a standard Star Lake Duke should do.

"My body knows it, Your Highness, it won't be a few years."

"But it doesn't matter." At that moment, Viscount Patterson's cloudy eyes flashed a gleam of light:

"Because... the years fly by, but the stars remain the same."

Thales felt his palm tighten, and saw Viscount Patterson leaning over, and with great effort, pressed his chin heavily against the prince's glove:

"Kingdom is young."

With goose skin and gray hair, he panted heavily, gritted his teeth and said:

"It's the right time."

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