Kingdom's Bloodline, page 567
His uncle stopped coughing, but he did not speak immediately. Only the noise from the galloping horses and the carriage wheels could be heard.
Finally, a long sigh traveled from the horse carriage.
“Isn’t that… the reason for our presence in Western Desert?” There was resignation, relief, and even indignation in his tone.
Duke Fakenhaz opened his eyes.
Before his eyes, another prince that went by the name of Jadestar stared at him nervously.
‘Do not trust them.’
Fakenhaz snorted lightly at the bottom of his heart.
Thales’ arm grew stiff behind him as he pressed down firmly on the dagger under the blanket.
The teenager saw past the Duke of Western Desert’s eyes, which appeared to be lit with a half-hearted, amused look, and Thales seemed to be able to see another bloody and hideous dead man’s head whose eyes were hollowed out.
It was Stake’s skull.
The second prince inhaled deeply. ‘Wait a minute. If Fakenhaz was the mastermind behind Herman’s assassination… Why is he telling me this now? What can he get out of revealing this in front of another Jadestar? Is this his attempt to gain the upper hand by a show of strength, an indication that he’s about to have a fall out with me, or could he have another motive?’
As usual, Thales put on a surprised expression and made it seem as if he had lost his composure while trying to figure out the key to what he heard just now was.
From the time when he was a child-beggar, to his life as a prince, this trick had worked on people who were not smart and were rather arrogant, like Quide and Nicholas, and even people like Ian the Nuisance and Monty the Raven of Death, who were as cunning as wolves.
They always felt that they were far more superior and far more intelligent when they saw Thales act like he was alarmed. They then revealed the greatest weakness while immersed in satisfaction and regarded him with scorn.
After he went through so much, this trick became Thales’ most familiar instinct. He used it so much that sometimes, he was confused about whether his lack of composure was real or only a performance.
However, this trick occasionally failed, like when he faced King Chapman in the carriage…
…Like now.
“What now? Have you gotten so comfortable in Northland that you are frightened by this?”
The Duke of Western Desert’s playful tone rose again. He stared at Thales who appeared to be dumbfounded, and he felt somewhat displeased.
“How about this?”
‘What about ‘this’?’ Thales did not have time to think when he saw Cyril extend his hand to seize the longsword on his walking stick.
A thought appeared in the prince’s mind.
*Whoosh!*
As the sound of gold and leather rubbing against each other was heard, the sword was unsheathed, and it drew a silver light in the air!
‘Shit!’
The Sin of Hell’s River rushed through his nerves, Thales instinctively got up, rolled off the bed, and fell onto the floor!
‘Are you kidding me?’
He got up on bent knees a safe distance away from the silver light. Then, he went into the Iron Body Style with his dagger in front of his body.
Thales had not recovered from the shock he felt as he watched Cyril Fakenhaz, who remained steadily seated on the chair.
The longsword that was unsheathed not long ago was held in the duke’s hand. The duke turned his wrist gently and the longsword drew a slow arc in the air. The atmosphere was bone-chilling. The duke gave off a rather foreboding presence; a faint aura, as if he was pressuring Thales.
“Very good. At least you are not a coward, as suggested by your appearance.” Cyril smiled in a ghastly manner. He did not care about the prince’s pale face the slightest bit.
‘What’s going on?’ Thales watched Cyril in disbelief. ‘Did he just… turn against me?’
But what bothered Thales even more was another matter: Yodel was still quiet in the dark. He did not do anything even when his life was in jeopardy.
‘What’s the matter? That man couldn’t possibly have been upset by what just happened, could he? Is he the type that is hard to appease?’
Just when Thales was getting headache as he tried to think of a way out, a familiar, hoarse voice echoed softly in his ears.
“Stay calm.” The Masked Protector’s voice was indistinct and could hardly be heard, but it managed to make Thales relax, and he no longer breathed while feeling tense.
“It wasn’t him.”
‘It wasn’t him.’ The familiar voice made Thales’ heart stop racing in his chest. ‘It wasn’t him.’ In that moment, Thales seemed to grasp something as he watched Cyril’s malicious smile.
‘This is Blade Fangs Camp, a territory directly under the royal family; a sizable number of regular troops are stationed here. The Legendary Wing is next to the camp while King Kessel is behind it. No matter what it is, Fakenhaz shouldn’t have admitted to the crime or threatened the prince.’
The prince, whose thoughts were interrupted just now when he put up his battle stance, took a few deep breaths and forced himself to ponder the matter from the beginning.
‘Then why… Why…? It wasn’t him.’
After Yodel reminded him of this, Thales seemed to think things through. He opened his mouth to ask, but did not for one moment relax from his combat stance. “Are you or are you not the murderer?”
Cyril locked his gaze on him. The longsword in his hand was incomparably steady and his eyes revealed an extraordinary sparkle. Finally, the Duke of Western Desert laughed faintly and shook his head during the intense confrontation.
“It looks like you do not know about it.” Right before Thales’ serious face, Cyril’s dark and cold smile faded slowly. The duke placed the longsword horizontally above his knees and played with it slowly. He did not glance at Thales again.
‘I don’t know about it?’
Thales did not understand what he just heard. He inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly.
“You said you let the assassin appear in front of Prince Herman…” The prince gritted his teeth and asked, “Why?”
Fakenhaz did not even turn his head around. He only focused on studying the exquisite longsword on his knees.
“Because it was his wish.”
Thales’ questions ended abruptly. ‘His wish?’
This time, the Duke of Western Desert did not wait for Thales to start questioning him, instead, he answered softly in a faint voice and with complex emotions, “He wanted to find them himself. He found those assassins, Shadow Shield, I mean.”
Thales was at a loss for words.
‘But. But… Herman? And Shadow Shield?’
Once Thales understood the duke’s words, his eyes immediately widened.
“Eighteen years ago, Herman came to me and asked me to do my utmost to help keep him away from his personal guard who have worked in the Royal Guards, or were part of the Jadestar personal soldiers, so that he could privately meet with some stranger who was his guest. It happened more than once.”
‘To keep him away from his personal guards… Some stranger who was his guest…’
A chilly breeze swept through the room, and it made the duke’s leather robe flutter slightly, his gray hair also danced in the wind. The wind stirred up endless dust and revealed his true form that was seldom noticed under the sunlight. The large amount of dust that flew back and forth rolled in the air strangely.
Cyril continued to look around, and his eyes seemed to sparkle.
“Until… the last time.”
‘The last time…?’ For some unknown reason, Thales felt a chill down his back.
“Shadow Shield avoided the royal family’s surveillance, met up with him, and so…”
Thales lowered his dagger in disbelief before he straightened his body. He moved his lips laboriously. “The Bloody Year… That was him? Herman?”
The narrow room on the top floor of Ghost Prince Tower quieted down. Only faint noises from outside the window, and the strong, cold wind that climbed to this high place was heard.
But the prince only felt he had fallen into a thick layer of mist, and he was drawing closer to the truth behind the mist.
Samel’s hateful words, spoken in the underground prison, appeared in his mind.
“‘Was it Beauty Herman, who had nothing but good looks and literary talent, but was narrow-minded, venomous, and ruthless?
“‘Was it a patricide, or a fratricide?”‘
‘The fourth prince, Herman Jadestar?’
Cyril did not answer. Thales was dazed for seconds before he immediately shook his head. Countless riddles rushed forth to his mind, and they tried to outdo each other to reach the front of his brain.
“But why? Why? If he’s the Jadestar who is the mastermind behind all this… Why did Shadow Shield want to kill him?”
‘This doesn’t make sense!’ His eyes were fixed on Fakenhaz, whose mind seemed to have wandered off elsewhere.
The duke closed his eyes gently before he immediately opened them. He let his arms touch his knees while he leaned forward. He schooled his expression before he turned to look at Thales, laughing faintly but terrifyingly again.
“I wish to know as well.”
Thales was dumbfounded. “Do you not know?”
Cyril laughed lightly, as if he did not care about it.
“No. Perhaps he was too silly, and it got him double-crossed; perhaps he was supposed to be the sacrifice and was destined to be betrayed; perhaps he was merely an insider, but he could not escape the disaster; or perhaps he was dragged into it accidentally, and he tried hard to turn the tide.”
Cyril looked down while his lips curled slightly. It was unclear whether he was being sarcastic or he was mocking the entire situation.
“But… he didn’t want me to know about it.”
‘He doesn’t know…’ Thales was not happy with the answer. He took a deep breath, stepped forward slowly, and sat at the end of the bed again while looking straight at the duke.
“Is that so? He asked a favor of you while he kept you in the dark about the truth, and you agreed to it? You did not even ask about it?” Thales said coldly, “Aren’t you too generous?”
Cyril turned his head slowly.
Perhaps it was a figment of his imagination, but Thales suddenly felt that Duke Fakenhaz’s ugly and hideous face seemed to have relaxed a lot.
“Believe it or not, child.” Cyril’s gaze suddenly grew very serious, and his sunken lips and teeth opened and closed under the sun. “Herman was one of the few friends I had… at least, compared to his brothers who only cared about conspiracies, massacres, wealth, and women. When he asked, I offered my help. It was that simple.”
Thales scowled. ‘…his brothers who only cared about conspiracies, massacres, wealth, and women…’
Cyril observed Thales’ expression. He shook his head and laughed faintly. But the prince’s next sentence made him change his expression.
“Does this have anything to do with Prince Horace?”
Thales relaxed his brow, but the seriousness in his eyes was at its peak.
“What was the reason behind Herman seeking out Shadow Shield, yet dying at their hands?”
In that moment, Fakenhaz’s expression froze.
‘Horace…’ He stared at Thales. Though he still looked ugly and hideous, he did not appear as playful as before. “Why do you ask in such a manner?”
Thales let out a breath. He asked him another question, “As for you… Why are you telling me all this at the place where Herman died, after eighteen years?”
Cyril stared at Thales for a long time. Finally, the duke’s elbows left his knees; he straightened his body on the chair.
To Thales’ surprise, Cyril, who seemed to have become serious, did not answer his question but lifted the longsword off his knees and studied it.
“Have you seen a sword like this, Your Highness?”
Cyril seemed to have walked out of his past memories—he had regained his terrifying and relaxed smile.
Thales was startled. He only now noticed that the duke’s longsword had a unique appearance: It had a bronze cross-guard, and a sword hilt that appeared especially slender. It may not fit the most ideal structure for receiving impact, but it was elegant and neat. The two sides of the blade extended smoothly into a curve—similar to a sand dune—and provided an esthetic comfort. A pure black gem was set in the pommel, though it was unknown what gem it was.
Cyril did not even look up. He just admired the exquisite sword to his heart’s content. “This is the national sword of the Ancient Empire, or rather, it is known as the ancient knight’s sword—its unique pattern, curve, and extraordinary balance makes brandishing it very easy, you can also move it swiftly and deliver even more powerful strikes. It can only be made with top-quality raw materials and extraordinary forging skills. It’s also worth a very costly price. I guess this is why they were destined not to be mass produced. In the end, they disappeared from the battlefield, and the few remaining pieces becam family heirlooms.”
Cyril turned the sword upside down to show Thales the bottom of the sword hilt.
There, was a carved Ancient Empire letter, it was unfamiliar to Thales, and he almost did not recognize it: F.
The carving of the letter appeared rather crude in comparison to the more exquisite parts of the sword, causing a mismatch.
‘The national sword of the Ancient Empire? The ancient knight’s sword? Hold on.’ A thought came to Thales. ‘This curve… seems rather familiar.’
“I have seen one.” Everlasting Truth. It was Ricky’s longsword, and it had a silver shaft that bore the same graceful curve. The sword appeared in Thales’ mind.
“But what does it have to do with what I asked; with Herman and Horace?” Thales asked vigilantly while he shifted slightly further away with a calm face. He made sure his feet touched the ground.
Cyril continued to admire the sword that might belong to the Fakenhaz Family, and served as their family heirloom. He then clicked his tongue and said, “Legend has it that the materials used to make the first batch of the Ancient Empire’s national swords were supplied by dwarves and cast by elves using underground flames as the forge. They had the essence of the seven seas gathered in them, and then offered to the first emperor who began the golden age of the human race—when the land had no borders. They was given to the Great Emperor, Camelot Karlose.”
Thales’ thoughts froze for a moment because of what he heard. Cyril looked up and laughed coldly.
“That is right. I am talking about your ancestor, the man whose blood was tinted with gold and sparkled, according to legend.”
Thales spoke subconsciously, “But you—”
Cyril seemed determined not to be interrupted. His focus returned to the longsword in his hands.
“This sword is named Sentinel. It was used in the Battle of Eradication by Tyberia Fakenhaz six hundred years ago; he was Tormond the First’s sword master when he was young. He was also the oldest follower of the King of Renaissance, until he was conferred a place in the Ruins and became the first Guardian Duke of Western Desert, and my ancestor.”
‘Sentinel. Tormond the First. Battle of Eradication…’ Thales began to grow a little impatient. “When I have time, I will listen to your family history but for now, let’s—”
“And the last time the Sentinel was in active service!” Cyril suddenly raised the volume of his voice to drown out Thales’ voice. The duke narrowed his eyes slightly as he turned his head to the side to watch Thales, who frowned.
“It was in another Cyril Fakenhaz’s hands. He was my great granduncle, and served under the Silent. He was part of Sumer the Fourth’s Royal Guards. During the critical moment when the king passed away, he held this sword and led the guards, forcing their way out while surrounded by enemies. Thus, they protected the young Aydi the Second so that he could ascend the throne, and a new king was born in Constellation.”
As Cyril spoke, he brandished the longsword in his hand in a flourish. His highly skilled movements and steady hold of the sword caused Thales, who always assumed that it was difficult for Duke Fakenhaz to move freely, to change his perception of the duke.
‘Hold on.’ Thales’ expression changed, he seemed to have gathered something from the conversation. ‘Another Cyril Fakenhaz? Royal Guards? “The Silent”, Sumer the Fourth, the king passed away… And… Aydi the Second?’
Thales stared unwaveringly at Sentinel. Before he could figure things out, Cyril let out a sigh.
“Fakenhaz. This surname is as old as Arunde, and the name has been passed down since the age of the Empire. Its members have followed the Jadestar Family until this day.”
The duke looked at his national sword of the Ancient Empire.
“Just like the ‘Sentinel’, here before our eyes, we have witnessed and got to know too much from the days of the Battle of Eradication to the Bloody Year.” A strange spark shone in the duke’s eyes. “Regardless of whether it is the rise and fall of Constellation or the Jadestar Royal Family…”
Fakenhaz untied the sheath from his walking stick. He cast a rather profound glance at Thales from the corner of his eyes.
“There was always bloodshed involved.” Cyril exhaled slowly and put Sentinel back into its sheath. “In comparison, does the answer you seek still matter?”
Thales raised his eyebrows. When he recalled what he saw and heard in the past few days, the prince suddenly had a wild guess.
“Aydi the Second, my grandfather, I heard that he was the eldest among Sumer the Fourth’s surviving children, and that he was male.” Thales spoke slowly, “I suppose it must have been smooth sailing for him to succeed the throne and be crowned?” He narrowed his eyes. “Then why did you say there was great ‘bloodshed’?”
The duke put away his nostalgic face, and a smile blossomed there slowly. He turned around and stared at Thales with burning eyes.
