Kingdom's Bloodline, page 314
At the mention of this, the letter Gilbert asked Putray to deliver to him came to mind.
[Madam Jines emphasised that at your age you must watch your diet. Do not be picky and have a balanced combination of various foods. Even the sow thistles from the Western Desert contains a considerable amount of nutritional value. You are recommended to try…]
Jines' stern and stony face emerged in Thales' mind, and he thought of something.
"Get the form right?" Nicholas snorted coldly. "Too bad you didn't manage to achieve that."
The Star Killer strode forward, holding his sword in both hands, and, with the aid of gravity, he swung it down!
*Bang!*
He nearly crushed Thales, who braced his shield with great effort. The prince clenched his teeth, feeling the force from Nicholas' sword increase gradually.
[As for those old friends of yours, please forgive us. I must tell you with shame and disappointment that even in the tenth search, we did not manage to find them. At least, the female bartender from Sunset Pub and those child beggars are no longer in Eternal Star City. Although it is not the most appropriate of times, I must advise you that perhaps it is time to give up on Your Highness' attempt to look for them. First of all, maybe this outcome was meant to be. Second, a search that has lasted for six years will not do you good…]
"Where is your grit when you snatched the book from my hands?" the Star Killer roared with rage. "Bring it out! Don't make me think that I am dueling with a moron!"
Thales stooped down and twisted his hip around with difficulty, deflected the opponent's Zweihänder aside, and then delivered a thrust. "Maybe you should redefine your statement. Who was snatching the book from whom- eh?"
However, the prince's attack did not have any effect. The Star Killer crouched down and delivered a kick, tripping Thales as he was about to change his stance.
Outside the training ground, Thales' attendant, Wya Caso, placed his hand on the longsword. He sighed while saying to the silver-masked Ralf who leaned against the wall with his arms crossed,
"You know, I'm not trying to belittle the prince, in fact, he is the most precocious child I have ever seen... But you have to admit that, good analytical skills and planning aside, when he faces the impending, physical, and bloody fights…"
Wya watched a flustered and overwhelmed Thales on the training ground, and shook his head. "He really… lacks talent."
Ralf frowned and looked at the babbling Wya with an annoyed look.
'This chatterbox… He's never stopped speaking over the past six years. What does he think I am, a free ear to listen to him at all times? Well, f*ck him.'
Ralf let out a displeased snort, then flipped him off, not even bothering to turn his head towards him, but Wya did not care. He knew the muted Ralf hated talkative people.
Still, if he could annoy the Phantom Wind Follower and see the latter's silent, angry gaze, why not? It was just like how Ralf enjoyed seeing Wya's dumb face when he could not fathom the sign language Ralf used to communicate with the prince.
Wya did not like Ralf's careless, vulgar, and uncultured mannerism. He was also not amused by the sign language only Ralf and the prince could understand. The Phantom Wind Follower disliked the confidence and self-awareness of the attendant as the prince's sole spokesperson—which he indeed was. He also despised the latter's attention to detail on social etiquette and addresses.
That being said, despite having fought side by side several times, the relationship between the two prince's followers of very different backgrounds had never been well.
"If he has the time to prepare, whether it's for chess, negotiations, or swordfight practices, his performance will always undoubtedly turn out excellent," Wya went on, frowning. "But when faced with an abrupt attack, like now, he becomes easily flustered, nervous, and eventually panics. Frankly, he is rather like the new recruits, especially the commoners who are repulsed by bloodshed or are unfamiliar with battle.
"This is fatal during a battle; any mistake made in a critical moment is a lifetime regret, or you might not even get to regret it at all."
In that very moment, Putray walked towards the two men, glancing at the training ground. Oddly enough, he did not take out his pipe. "You can just be straightforward and say Thales is not good at fighting."
"My lord." Wya nodded cautiously, while Ralf only bobbed his head perfunctorily.
Putray's eyes were gleaming. "Is there any method to overcome that? Thales' problematic habit of panicking and going blank during the critical moment?"
"I am afraid it will be difficult." Wya turned his head, taking a glance at Thales who got struck and collapsed onto the ground for the second time. He sighed. "One could practice his sword fighting skills. Techniques can be improved, but long-time habits and characteristics are not easy to change."
In that second, Ralf gently raised his hand suddenly and made a throat-slitting gesture with a dark look.
"Um?" Putray noticed it and arched an eyebrow. "What does he mean?"
Wya looked at Ralf's expression, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Uh, I think what the mute meant is…
"…In the Tower, I heard about a quick method to cultivate battle instincts: send someone into a deadly battlefield. Blood and death are the most efficient teachers; out there, a harmless little sheep can turn into a vicious dragon. Even the most cowardly soldier or the most inexperienced new recruit can eradicate their worst habits. Of course, that is if you manage to stay alive."
"It is the same even with supreme class fighters like the Star Killer and the Kingdom's Wrath. Their extraordinary combat skills were slowly accumulated in battle. Practicing with wooden dummies and targets will never make someone a supreme class fighter."
Ralf let out a light snort. It was uncertain whether he was agreeing or expressing his disdain.
Putray frowned.
"Thales is not a Northlander. He is a Constellatiate prince, a Jadestar, and someday, a king." The former vice diplomat shook his head. "He only needs to dabble in how things work on the battlegrounds. Fighting in person or going onto the battlefield personally is not something he necessarily needs to know how to do. He does not need to become a supreme class fighter, his responsibility is to control the chess pieces in his hands while being protected by the army."
Ralf muttered a chain of unintelligible utterances.
Wya exhaled. "But you know, during the Bloody Year, even with heavy protection from the guards, the Jadestar Royal Family—"
At the mention of these words, Putray's head whipped around. The atmosphere had suddenly turned cold.
"Watch your tongue." Putray's sharp and frosty glare forced Wya to swallow his words. "Do not make careless judgements about things you do not understand, especially the Bloody Year."
'And the Jadestars.'
Wya stared at him, puzzled. Ralf let out a cold snort, obtaining joy from Wya's misfortune.
"I'm sorry. I should not have talked about the royal family that way," The teachings of his aristocratic family made Wya apologize with incredibly good manners. He sighed, searching for another topic. "By the way, it seems you plan to stay for a long time in Dragon Clouds City, my lord?"
Putray shifted his attention back to the training ground. "Yes," he said flatly. "Perhaps longer than you imagine."
"Speaking of, the prince did mention that to me." Wya frowned slightly. "Where did you go six years ago?"
Putray was slightly startled.
Wya continued in a leisurely manner, "Six years ago, on the second day of King Chapman's coronation, when Lisban began to clean up the mess in Dragon Clouds City, and when Prince Thales was in deep trouble… you hurriedly left Dragon Clouds City without saying a word.
"That is alright, since we are reunited now, all things considered." Wya retracted his gaze and said worriedly, "But what bothers me more is that, after six years, why are you back now? Why not earlier, like when the prince had yet to settle down, or later, like when the prince faces problems such as marriage?
"Why now? It makes me rather… concerned."
Ralf frowned as well. He did not seem bothered by Wya's talkativeness, which was unusual for him.
Their corner had suddenly gotten quiet.
Putray's eyelids drooped. He reached a hand to his chest slowly and drew out the old pipe he had been using for the past six years.
The skinny former vice diplomat stuffed tobacco into his pipe unhurriedly. He took out his flints and lit the pipe. "You know, a long time ago when I was young, our teacher said this during the completion of our studies: Gilbert Caso has great ambition. He will not be dazzled when he is perceiving a problem, but will manage to think out of the box, and grasp what lies beyond his vision. Perhaps he will become one of those strategists with great foresight, and excel at long-term strategic planning. So, that naïve bastard always thought too much."
When he heard of Putray's answer, which did not serve to answer Wya's question at all, Wya raised an eyebrow, astonished. "Huh?"
"Even if you refuse to admit it, Wya." Putray took a contented puff of smoke, smiling as he said, "In many ways, you are very similar to your father… Thinking too much, for one."
As though he had thought of something, Wya closed his mouth and turned away with a dark expression. He stopped his investigative inquiry.
On the training ground, Thales took two steps back and caught a glimpse of the odd dynamic between Putray and Wya.
Questions sprung up in his heart and he could not help but remember another thing mentioned in Gilbert's letter.
[Your Highness, please put your faith in Putray as always, especially during this special period of time. For the sake of your future, please trust him! On a side note, please give the new tutor the respect he deserves, be humble and learn. He is most probably the second person I respect the most in this lifetime.]
Gilbert had emphasized, twice, that he put his trust in Putray.
'Why?'
The glint of a sword flashed, Nicholas struck again. This time, Thales, who had been retreating up to this point, found a long-awaited opportunity.
As the opponent struck his shield for the third time, the prince delivered the counterattack he had been preparing once he blocked the strike.
He attacked the opponent from his left, where the defense was weak, making Nicholas' eyes gleam.
"Good thinking."
But shortly afterwards, the Star Killer swayed his Zweihänder and met the vicious counterattack.
Tracing the trajectory of his opponent's Zweihänder, Thales strenuously swung the shield in his hand, parrying the opponent's counterattack with great effort.
*Whoosh!*
Nicholas' Zweihänder swung, trailing across the surface of the shield. The strong wind made by the swinging blade flitted past Thales' hair. Thales shuddered from the chill he felt in that very moment.
Following the growing sense of imminent danger, Thales felt another strange chill erupt from the top of his spine, slithering towards his brain.
In the next second, that familiar yet strange current, the Sin of Hell's River, broke out within him uncontrollably. It awoke abruptly, like a beast jerked awake from hibernation!
It was also like a sudden hailstorm, invading every inch of his body, including his brain.
He felt a desire to let himself go completely… but the prince did not feel a sense of relief at all.
Thales felt the violent rush of the Sin of Hell's River, and he was overwhelmed with terror.
'No…
'No!!'
Chapter 284: The Familiar Gues |
Thales clenched his teeth ferociously as he controlled the movements of his body.
'Calm down! Calm down, Thales! This is not a battle for life and death!'
*Bang!*
In the next second, Nicholas cunningly evaded Thales' shield and struck with his sword.
Thales could only feel the strong vibrations from the sword in his hand. It dropped from his hand in a flash.
*Ka-clang!*
Thales' sword fell on the ground. He heaved a sigh, turned to face Nicholas' huge sword placed across his shoulders, then spread his hands in surrender.
'The fight is over.'
"Your mind actually really likes to wander." The Star Killer withdrew his Zweihänder and sneered mockingly at him. "Just like the past, do you really enjoy daydreaming during your fights?"
Thales put on a grudging smile and did not refute him. All he knew was that just now, 'that' had happened again.
One year ago, Thales encountered a similar situation during practice. A Northlander warrior who was a training partner cut into his shield and split it with a battleaxe. The fragments had struck the prince's lower jaw and neck.
At that moment, when his neck artery was threatened, the Sin of Hell's River surged through his body with a rumble like a startled hedgehog. It caused the dizzy Thales to shudder.
Instinctively, he knew how to strike back. He quickly dropped the sword, whirled around, and stepped forward. As the axe's blade scraped past his cheek, he forced his way to the enemy's side. While braving the risk of being slashed by the axe, he punched the enemy's throat with his fist.
In that moment, Thales was like an enraged wild beast with only one notion left in his heart: To battle.
Under the influence of the Sin of Hell's River, he could have perhaps inflicted heavy damage to the other party's throat cartilage… Then he would get cut on the side where his rib was by the other party.
...That is, if Thales did not wake up halfway and stop attacking.
In the end, the warrior apologized, constantly, because he could not control his strength and had scratched the prince's arm. Everyone thought it was a slip-up during training.
But then, only the panic-stricken Thales knew that it was not a slip-up from his opponent, but his own; a thrilling and dangerous counterattack that he did not fully execute.
At that moment, Thales, who was still fearful from the encounter, truly experienced the essence of the Sin of Hell's River for the first time. He began to understand Black Sword's words: Don't treat it as a tool. Instead, treat it as an honorable partner.
From then on, Nicholas decided to become Thales' personal trainer. Compared to the others, a supreme class can control the rhythm and force of a battle perfectly and avoid causing any unnecessary harm.
From that moment onwards, Thales began to be consciously aware of the possibility of similar things happening as well so as to avoid leading to disasters such as "The Prince of Constellation has no regard for human life, he kills recklessly during training".
Back in the present, the anxious Thales patted his own heart, only to feel his blood vessels raging, it was hard to calm down.
Just as the gust stirred up by Nicholas' sword swept past his forehead, the Sin of Hell's River was as agitated as a beast whose territory had been violated. While it filled up his leg muscles frantically, it rushed up to his brain with great speed. It paralyzed his sense of fear, as if it was desperately urging him.
'Get rid of the shield, start moving! Use the agility released in that moment, turn around and meet the tip of the enemy's sword. Take the risk and strike back! Just strike back… then I can… can…'
Thales pressed a hand to his forehead and heaved a long sigh. He could not do it.
'The thoughts during that moment and that sort of fighting style… are too extreme. It will just end up with neither side winning. I don't think Black Sword mentioned whether this sort of unchanging Power of Eradication, this so-called Sin of Hell's River, had this sort of "wild nature" when roused?'
Thales shook his head and shifted his eyes elsewhere in an attempt to cast out the thoughts in his head.
"Hey!" The Star Killer's dissatisfied voice was heard again. "You had better concentrate a little," Nicholas chided coldly, "Stop looking at her."
The Star Killer's eyes were especially dark and frigid.
Thales was startled before he came to his senses. Unconsciously, he had shifted his eyes to another pair of people having outdoor practice.
Not far away from them, the Archduchess of Dragon Clouds City, Saroma Walton, was dressed in a lightweight hunting attire. Under Lord Justin's guidance, she was learning how to defend herself with a dagger. Sweat seeped from her cheeks because of the exercise, and there was a light flush on her face.
Thales sighed. He knew that Nicholas would misunderstand the reason behind his wandering mind.
'But…'
Thales recalled the second last paragraph of Gilbert's letter.
[...Apart from that, even though I am gratified with your hard work in the fields of politics in strengthening the diplomatic relations of the two countries, I do want to remind you of something here: While you are associating yourself with that Lady Walton, please separate politics and personal relationships clearly. If, because of this, you can deepen your friendship with the Archduchess of Dragon Clouds City, then it is still worth it, no matter how expensive the hand polished glasses from Master Frank's workshop are. But if such a friendship escalates a step further, then it will be worth a discussion. Bear in mind that friendship is beautiful, but love is terrifying…]
'Damn Gilbert… Isn't he far away in Constellation? What sort of inexplicable rumors has he heard?'
Thales then recalled the things Putray said yesterday, and felt somewhat heavy-hearted.
'"That pitiful young girl… is about to get married."'
Thales stooped down slowly to pick up the sword from the ground. "Why?"
Nicholas narrowed his eyes. "What?"
"Six years ago, when King Nuven passed away, why were you still so willingly loyal?" Thales swung the sword back and forth in his hand. As he thought about that life-changing night, he said heavily, "She obviously wasn't… you know what I'm talking about."
'Saroma's identity. Saroma's marriage. The vassals of Dragon Clouds City. My own identity…'
After thoroughly reflecting on yesterday's incident, Thales felt that something was a little odd.
Nicholas' face changed. "Be careful with your words, young prince." A faint hostility began to seep into the Star Killer's ice cold tone. "...Especially in a city that's hostile against you."
