Kingdom’s Bloodline

In the firelight, under Klein and Josef’s vigilant watch, Thales stepped on the stone staircase in the storage room. There was a strange odor in the air. It made Thales crease his brow on several occasions.

It was hard to believe that a few hours ago, he was escorted into the Prison of Bones by the Disaster Swords, yet a few hours later, he was forced to leave the prison with them while still under their watch.

It was a rather peculiar enactment of the saying “finish what you started”. This journey ended the way it began.

The badly wounded Zakriel limped in front of Thales while supported by Canon and Bruley. They were even more heavily guarded than Thales. Ricky, hooded, walked beside them, and never left their side.

Not so far away behind Thales were Tardin and Quick Rope. They were tied up again, and had gloomy looks on their faces. They had to bear with the vigilant gaze of the others.

Barney Junior and Beldin, who had injured Ricky previously, were perhaps considered ‘dangerous individuals’. The two of them were separated from the rest, their hands tied to their backs, and weapons held against them. Each was assigned his own guard.

When he thought of this, Thales, weak and exhausted, could not help but let out a sigh.

After Zakriel collapsed from the fatigue, they were forced to accept the truth and surrender—not just because of the oddities and mysteries around Ricky, but the fact that the members of the Royal Guard were spent and utterly worn out after going through several battles and enduring the Alchemy Ball’s sensory torture.

The secret stone stairway in the storage room led them to a new platform. Through the light of the torches held by the Disaster Swords who stood at the periphery of the group, Thales could vaguely see a dozen silhouettes waiting for them at the end of the passage.

The moment he discerned the figures, Thales’ pupils froze.

‘That’s…’

“Looks like you are the winner of the night, my honorable Crassus.”

A fresh-faced man with bruises on his face sat tied up on the ground. He glanced at Thales and Zakriel, and put on a fake smile. He turned to look at Ricky.

“Wow.”

‘It’s Stake.’ Astonished, Thales stared at the subdued leader of Shadow Shield. ‘He didn’t run away. He fell into the clutches of the Disaster Swords.’

Stake turned to look at Thales. He smiled weakly, retaining his last remaining dignity as a leader. “See, Your Highness, if only you decided to leave with us… at least…”

The leader of the assassins shook his head at the murderous Disaster Swords. He wore a look of regret that said “Why did you not listen to my advice?” Thales frowned as he looked at him.

Ricky was not bothered by Stake’s words. He looked at Samel, who stood behind him. Samel nodded and stepped forward.

He suppressed the look of hatred on his face and asked, “When are your men on the ground taking action to divert the camp’s attention?”

Thales was slightly startled. The captive Stake felt the same.

‘Divert their attention?’ His eyes darted around the room.

“Take action?” Stake seemed to have remembered something, and a smug look appeared on his disheveled face. “I told you before: look at me now. Do you think they will do anything?”

Samel’s expression turned grim. He strode forward. “I’m not Ricky, Stake. I won’t be as polite…”

Stake laughed. “Good. So, if you don’t mind, I want to talk to Crassus directly, if you still want to escape from Blade Fangs Camp with our help, that is.”

He looked past Samel and looked at Ricky. Ricky did not speak, and his face was all the while obscured by the hood. In the next second, however, Samel frowned deeply and stomped on Stake’s head!

Stake fell to the ground with a groan. Blood streamed from his nose.

“Listen, assassin!”

With cold sweat on his forehead, Stake clenched his teeth, endured the pain, and tried to sit up. But Samel’s boot was still on his chest. Clearly, he did not plan to make it easy for Stake.

“Even in captive, you still manage to strike a deal with us,” Samel said coldly. “But if we are all captured by Constellation… Don’t forget that we still have the letter which proves that you murdered Herman Jadestar.”

Once he mentioned the name, Zakriel, Canon, Bruley, and Tardin—all the imprisoned Royal Guards—were shocked. They raised their heads at once and looked at Stake.

Stake, who was struggling desperately a moment ago, froze. Thales arched an eyebrow, recalling the letter in his bosom.

Samel gave a cold snort. “So, do you want to leave with us, or become a guest of the Secret Intelligence Department? King Kessel and the Black Prophet would love to see you.”

Silence.

The Disaster Swords watched their interaction closely. Stake clenched his teeth and panted on the ground for a while.

At last, the leader of Shadow Shield clicked his tongue, sighed and, defeated, he said, “Half an hour from now, someone will notice something is wrong with the Prison of Bones. According to the plan we made—now ruined thanks to you—my men will first burn down the quartermaster’s depot, then assassinate an extremely unpopular noble in the Western Desert to create an unprecedented chaos in the camp.”

Thales lowered his head and heaved a sigh.

Stake tilted his head. A chillingly grave expression emerged on his face. “I guarantee you, those sick and tired Western Desert nobles who traveled a long way here will panic. It will take them two hours to realize what is going on.”

Samel scowled. “You can do that?”

Stake gave a cold snort, as if he was saying “What would you know?”

“Williams, who happens to be the most difficult to deal with, is not in the camp… So, yes, we can make that happen.”

Samel turned to look at Ricky. The latter nodded under his hood. Samel lifted his boot, allowing Stake, who was panting in pain, to sit up.

“Good. We will take action by then.”

However, the moment Stake caught his breath, he let out a laugh and said, “Oh, but, there will be a small issue with what comes after.”

Samel, who was turning away, turned his head around with an angry look. “What are you up to this time?”

Stake immediately shook his head. After coming to completely understand the temperament of the man before him, he put on a servile expression, and said in resignation,

“You have to understand: When my men meet up with us at the entrance only to find me a captive… Don’t misunderstand me, they won’t fight you. But you should know that Shadow Shield has an ‘outstanding’ tradition of ‘sacrificing others for survival’.”

‘Sacrificing others for survival…’ Samel narrowed his eyes slightly.

Stake turned his head away, wiping off the blood on his chin with his collar. He sighed in defeat and said, “My subordinates… they will just cut off the escape route and leave without hesitation. They will leave us for dead in this chaotic camp.”

The Disaster Swords were silent for a while.

Samel raised his head. “Sacrifice you? Even if you’re their leader?”

Stake smiled a sheepish smile.

“It is exactly because I am their leader.”

‘And then,’ Stake thought grimly to himself, ‘there will be a new leader of Shadow Shield in the Dragon Clouds City branch.’

Thales looked at Stake. The man had a bloody nose and was covered in wounds. The teenager suddenly had a new understanding of Shadow Shield.

Stake shrugged and wore a helpless expression, which no one could tell if it was genuine or fake. He gestured with his chin at the rope used to bind him.

“So? I will give up on the prince, but our partnership has yet to end, right? At least untie me, let me preserve my dignity in front of my subordinates…”

In that moment, a terrifying voice rose into the air, like hisses of a desert snake, or the howling of wind in a cave. It made Thales uncomfortable.

“Worry not…”

As the others stepped back and covered their ears instinctively, Ricky, still hooded, walked through the crowd. He came in front of Stake and continued to torture Thales’ ears with his non-human voice.

“We have our own way around that.”

It was uncertain whether he had gotten used to it, or Ricky was controlling himself, but Thales felt that when he heard Ricky’s non-human voice again the discomfort and the urge to tremble was not as intense as before.

Stake was also affected by the voice, and trembled for a few seconds. He was perplexed for a moment, and then out of instinct, he asked, “Crassus, why is your voice… so strange?”

Ricky cast his gaze on the person behind Stake. In the next second, the sinewy figure behind Stake stepped forward and knocked him out with his sword pommel.

Thales saw the person who just knocked Stake out… was shocked again.

“We’re done here. Prepare to evacuate.” Klein, who stood beside Ricky, strode forward to join that person. “Good job, lass. The intel you delivered is extremely valuable. You will be compensated.”

It was Marina.

Under Thales’ astonished gaze, the Disaster Swordswoman who kidnapped him and Quick Rope and brought them to the tavern nodded. Marina Novork’s cold glance met the prince’s momentarily before she looked away.

‘Wait, what was Klein talking about? What intel did she deliver?…’

A second passed, and realization dawned on Thales.

Earlier on, Marina was the one who brought the information regarding Zakriel’s attempt to hunt Thales down to the Disaster Swords after she woke up. After that, Shawn caught up to him and Quick Rope. When Thales had no choice but to seek help from the imprisoned Royal Guards, Samel took Shawn’s place and joined them.

When he thought of this, Thales paled. He peeked uneasily at the hooded Ricky beside him.

After the prince was rescued by Yodel, he thought he had gotten rid of the mercenaries, and the only threat left was Shadow Shield. In actuality, Thales was under the surveillance of the Disaster Swords all along—by either Marina, Shawn, or Samel. They kept themselves hidden in the dark, and he never managed to free himself from their surveillance. They waited until Thales’ party and their opponent were both wounded and spent.

The more he knew, the heavier Thales’ heart became.

The group was held captive by the Disaster Swords, and they continued to journey forward.

They went up another flight of stairs and came before an enormous, round platform that seemed to be able to fit hundreds of people. There was a cylindrical pillar in the center of the platform, and a dozen stone slabs and tables of varying sizes were placed around it in a fan-shaped formation. There were also some huge, empty and worn wells. Among them, shattered stone fragments and metallic debris lay scattered on the ground.

Thales stepped over an obstacle, uncertain whether it was a scrap of metal or a stone block. Stunned, he stared at the stack of stone slabs on the platform and asked, puzzled. “This place is…”

Ricky answered without turning around, “A foundry… or what is left of it.”

Ricky’s voice began to sound normal this time. Although it was still awful, it no longer sounded like the unbearable noise of scratching against a metal slab.

Ricky sighed and said, “A long, long time ago, the very first batch of anti-mystic equipment prototypes in the world were produced here in secret.”

Thales felt his heart jump. He stared at the long-abandoned stone platform, and his expression changed.

“What a shame…” Ricky stopped pacing around.

Thales realized that they had come before a block of stone that was placed in a vertical position.

Ricky took out the key he retrieved from Thales and gently patted the dust off an eye-shaped carving that read [Towards omniscience] on the stone block.

“Everyone, take a break, and hold tight,” Ricky said flatly.

Once he gave the order, Zakriel and Samel kneeled down beside a stone slab. Canon and Bruley protested as they were escorted by armed guards. Quick Rope and Tardin walked to a corner in the distance under Klein’s watch.

The Royal Guards were separated. They would not be able to look out for each other.

‘But… Take a break? Hold tight?’ Thales recalled Ricky’s words, yet he still could not wrap his head around it.

In the next second, as the key in Ricky’s hand began to turn, a rough and unpleasant rumble echoed from beneath their feet.

*Rumble…*

Thales held on to a stone table next to him, and barely managed to stand on his feet. He glanced around instinctively. ‘Perhaps a doorway is opening,’ he thought.

He realized he was wrong when he looked up.

*Rumble…*

In the dim firelight, Thales was astonished to see the wall at the edge of the platform slowly slide down. Soon enough, Thales felt a weight on his body, and a faint pressure from beneath his feet.

‘This is…’

Many people, including the Disaster Swords, jumped in fright. Their expressions changed in an instant.

“What the—” Thales had yet finished his sentence, but he had already realized what was going on.

He looked at Ricky in shock, then at the wide curved wall around them which appeared to be descending gradually.

“We are… moving upwards?”

Ricky smiled. “You are sharp, Your Highness.”

He nodded, opened his arms amid the frightened crowd, and gazed at the slowly ascending platform in contentment.

“Now, we are using the very device wizards used to transport raw materials up and down the tower to reach the surface—which used to be the top floor of the tower.”

*Rumble…*

“Up and down the tower? The top floor?”

Thales scanned the darkness around him where the firelight could not reach. “Are we not underground—” He did not finish his sentence.

“Yes, most people think that the Prison of Bones has always been a dungeon.” Ricky sat down on a stone slab next to him and faced Thales. He sounded very sentimental. “But only a few know that this place, the locked laboratory under the Alchemy Tower, used to be a colossal tower that went straight into the sky.”

‘A colossal tower.’ Thales was astounded.

“What?” The prince instinctively looked at the ceiling. “But we entered from—”

Ricky merely raised a finger and silenced him. “You should know that thousands upon thousands of years ago, before the Empire was founded, before the rise of human civilization, the Great Desert was not yet called the Great Desert.”

Ricky sighed softly and tapped the stone platform beneath him.

“Back then, when dozens of sandbanks of varying sizes had not merged into one, and the lakes and oases had yet to be covered in yellow sand, this Magic Tower stood towering over them.

“Regrettably, many years later, countless sandstorms buried most of it. To this day, many people assume that Blade Fangs Camp was always a solid and sturdy sand dune. They are accustomed to this, and unsurprised by the fact that they can build so many fortresses on loose sand.” There was a hint of sorrow in Ricky’s voice. “Have a good rest. We will reach the surface soon.”

In the slow but rhythmic, and somewhat terrifying rumbling sound, Thales was quiet for a while.

“Why do you know so much about this place?” the teenager asked quietly. “You saw how this tower used to look like?”

In that instant, Ricky raised his head sharply. His horrifying yellow eye emerged from beneath the hood. Thales leaned back against the stone slab behind him instinctively.

“Don’t waste your time trying to figure out my background, Your Highness.”

Unbeknown to him, Ricky’s voice had become normal again, as did his face—except for that yellow eye of his. Everything else about him was ordinary.

Ricky stared at Thales for a long time, the latter grew increasingly uneasy.

“Yes, I am older than I look,” Ricky said softly. “But I am not that old. At least, not as ‘ancient’ as you imagined.”

Thales swallowed subconsciously. When he saw his facial expression, Ricky could not help but laugh.

“I know what you are up to, Your Highness. I can see there is something unique about you.”

Ricky peered at Thales. The teenager suddenly noticed that the color of Ricky’s yellow left eye was changing… It turned back into the color of a normal human eye.

“Even now, even in the worst, most adverse, and hopeless situations, you refuse to give up, right?”

Ricky chuckled and raised a finger. “I wonder if this is the reason why you obtained the Sin of Hell’s River… Or the Sin of Hell’s River made you the way you are now.”

Thales was dumbfounded. ‘The worst, most adverse, and hopeless…’ Thales turned his head around and surveyed his surroundings.

On the slowly rising platform, Zakriel watched them from afar through narrowed eyes. He looked exhausted as well, completely ignoring what Samel was saying next to him.

Bruley and Canon were tied back to back, and they sat on the ground, looking a very sorry sight. Tardin leaned against a stone pillar in a corner while he looked elsewhere angrily. He seemed to be irritated with his ‘nephew’, Quick Rope, who prattled on miserably.

Barney Junior and Beldin were far away from them. Thales could only see their blurred silhouettes. Due to their previous record of launching surprise attacks, he guessed that these two brothers would not receive better treatment. Meanwhile, the Disaster Swords filled the platform and watched their seemingly exhausted captives vigilantly.

Thales sighed. They were in deep trouble, too powerless to turn the tide. ‘But…’

“I am used to struggling in the darkness.” Thales stared at the dust on the ground. He leaned against the stone platform to ease the fatigue in his body, and quietly said, “Even if there is no light in sight.”

His words made Ricky fall silent for a moment.

“Me too.” Ricky’s lips curled up and he smiled slightly. “We all do.”

‘No. You do not.’ Thales snorted in his heart. ‘You can be resurrected.’

“Don’t worry, my dear.” Ricky gazed at him and unknowingly changed the way he addressed Thales. He said softly, “You will be fine.”

Thales exhaled and answered defeatedly, “Thank you.”

However, Thales subsequently recalled Ricky’s identity and felt that there was something increasingly strange about the situation.

‘Was I just comforted by the kind words of… a demon who lives among men?’

Ricky suddenly reached to his waist and took out a sack. “High-grade jerky, you want one?”

Thales was stupefied again. ‘Huh?’

Ricky brusquely whipped out a jerky from the sack. “Don’t be coy, I know the Sin of Hell’s River is a heavy burden on your body. It would be odd if you are not hungry.” Ricky bit the jerky between his teeth and tossed the sack to Thales. “Meanwhile, I also need to make up for my depleted stamina.”

Thales caught the sack in a flurry of motion.

He stared at Ricky dumbly, then at the cloth bag in his hands. In the end, Thales sighed, took out a piece of jerky, and, with a feeling of resignation, started eating it, just like what Ricky was currently doing.

Thus, an unusual scene appeared on the platform: Thales sat by the side of the stone platform, and Ricky sat cross-legged opposite him. The human and demon sat quietly across from each other while they tore at the jerky in their hands.

At that moment, Zakriel’s voice suddenly cut into their silence. “Why?”

Thales and Ricky turned their heads around simultaneously. Zakriel leaned against the stone platform not too far away. He looked weak. “…Just what is your goal, demon?”

A light crease appeared between Ricky’s eyebrows. As he stared at Zakriel’s feeble face, Thales instinctively wanted to hand him a piece of jerky, but Ricky’s glare made him stop.

Zakriel did not take any notice of the jerky anyway. Instead, he airily said, “Demons have long since lacked the courage to appear on the face of the world fearlessly after the Battle of Eradication.”

‘After the Battle of Eradication?’ Thales picked up the key phrase which talked about that particular period of time.

“‘Have long since’?” Ricky gazed at Zakriel before he smirked. “Are you sure?”

Zakriel did not immediately reply. Instead, he watched Ricky for some time. In the end, it was Ricky who turned his head away impatiently. During that time, Zakriel spoke with a hint of uncertainty.

“Alright. A long time ago, I read a suspicious record in the Legacy Book belonging to the Watchmen of the Royal Guards.

“It stated that there was one King of Constellation whose intelligence was compromised. All his subsequent actions brought endless trouble and chaos to the kingdom. There were endless disasters under his rule, and his people lived in misery.”

Thales was surprised.

Zakriel stared at Ricky with brightly burning eyes, as if he wanted to uncover something from Ricky’s body.

“Later, the temples and the Secret Intelligence Department suspected that the king… was possessed by a demon.”