Kingdom's Bloodline, page 680
“Here he goes again,” Military Advisor Solder said indignantly, “How many budget plans has he glossed over using this method…”
Yet Kirkirk continued to stare at the king devotedly, as if he did not hear it.
King Kessel raised a hand to rub his forehead. “Enough. Let’s take a break.
“We’ll continue in the afternoon, and discuss how to help Kirkirk solve the budget issue.”
These words rang out like the recess bell. Everyone breathed a sigh of relief.
Apart from the center of the topic—Solder and Kirkirk—who glared at each other before turning away in disdain.
Cullen, Krapen, Stylia Nydis, the scar-faced man from the Secret Intelligence Department… Everyone bowed courteously and left their seats.
Thales exhaled in relief too. He stood up along with Gilbert and helped the latter tidy his notes.
Until—
“You stay.”
Thales froze.
The king did not even open his eyes.
But everyone knew who he was referring to.
Deep down inside, the prince sighed and sat back down.
‘Fine.
‘I’ll have to face it sooner or later.’
The ministers each cast a look at him but their expressions varied.
“Relax,” Gilbert patted his shoulder and whispered, “Just answer truthfully.”
Solder walked past Thales intentionally and bowed to the Duke of Star Lake, “I hope you weren’t alarmed, Your Highness.
“It’s a shame. If the war in Western Desert went on for longer,” the military advisor sighed, “that could have further proven than the private armies of suzerains are useless and only pose a grave risk.
“Then the proposal to reform recruits into regular soldiers would have been more convincing.”
He looked at Thales ruefully, “It would have been great if you had stayed longer in the desert, Your Highness…”
‘Stayed longer.’
Thales froze for several seconds.
‘Why does this sound strange?’
A few minutes later, following the closing of the stone door, only Thales and the king were left at the Imperial Conference.
The narrow Ballard Room felt much more spacious.
But the atmosphere grew heavier.
Seated where he originally was, Thales attempted to suppress his anxiety as he watched King Kessel massage his temples.
All of a sudden.
“Do you love her?”
Thales was confused. “What? Love what?”
But the king had no intention of putting the question to him in the first place.
“Every time she is mentioned.”
King Kessel put down his hand, and reveal a pair of cold eyes from the darkness. “You act like a hen protecting its chick.”
Thales was shocked but attempted to maintain his poker face.
After the incident last night, he envisioned the reasons why King Kessel summoned him: assassination, duel, bet, acting at his own discretion…
But this…
“We have a good relationship,” Thales frowned in reply, “but, no.”
The Duke of Star Lake snorted with laughter and shook his head. “She is the Archduchess of Dragon Clouds City.
“I don’t love her.
“And it’s impossible that I do.”
After he uttered these words, King Kessel stared at him for a long while.
Thales felt a chill run through his spine.
“Then why, at the banquet last night,” the king asked softly, but his every word was hard-hitting, “Gilbert, Eastern Sea Hill, Land of Cliffs Region, Elaphure City, Reformation Tower. You moaned to everyone you could find and asked for their help, groveling…
“Just to help her?”
‘What?’
Thales’ heart skipped a beat.
‘How did he…
‘No.’
Thales frowned hard and attempted to explain himself, “I don’t understand. I met many people last night, but…”
But the king used affirmative sentences, which left no room for him to refute.
“Your performance last night was terrible.”
The Iron Hand King leaned back and slipped into the darkness of Ballard Room. There was a sliver of contempt in his tone. “Master Polaris.”
‘Polaris.’
Inexplicably, this nickname that Northlanders gave him made Thales shudder.
“So, the heir to the throne of Constellation has fallen in love with the Northland girl from Walton family.”
His father, his supreme king continued coldly, “Head over heels.
“Irrepressibly.”
Chapter 568: As Truthful As Possible |
Why was he here?
Every time he walked along the corridors of Renaissance Palace, Mallos could not help but ask himself that.
Rays of light leaked through the narrow stone windows, splitting the corridor on this floor into countless black and white striped fragments.
He walked through the light and shadows as his figure was sporadically lit amid the chilly morning air.
Soon, the path at his feet diverged in front of him: one led to the royal family’s treasury and the watchmen’s chamber that he frequented, another led to the guards’ night shift break room that he despised.
Why was he here?
Mallos turned into one without hesitation.
Because he was destined to be here.
When he walked past the prized portrait of the ‘Wise Prime Minister’ Halva from the era of the King of Renaissance (whose sagacious demeanor was striking as ever), the watchman greeted two logistics officers of the royal guards who were passing by, but he was acutely aware that their attitude was peculiar.
‘It’s only normal.
‘After all, after last night, Mindis Hall has become the center of focus of the entire capital,’ Mallos thought calmly.
‘What’s more, the person who is really bearing these pressures is…’
Mallos turned a corner habitually and pushed open a wooden door, entering the guards’ first night shift break room.
“So, Will, what goodies do we have this new year?”
Mallos stopped in front of the wall where the roster was hung and greeted the people in the room as he removed his weapon to hang it on the sword rack.
Just as he placed his hand on his weapon, he met another.
The Power of Eradication within him roused instinctively.
The whole world became quiet.
Desolate.
Silent.
Frosty.
Heavy.
Dim.
Until someone disturbed it.
“Maté tea.”
At the other end of the break room, a young man—flag bearer, Will—put down his cup with a look of revulsion and looked up from behind a table stacked full of documents.
“A merchant group brought it back from Shalte Archipelago. It’s bitter enough to make someone choke, it’s not selling well in the capital.
“So the Logistics Division bought a huge batch cheap, because it ‘refreshes’ you.
“At least that’s what they told me.”
Will looked depressed for some reason.
Mallos contorted his facial muscles to put on what others would perceive as a sincere smile.
“Not bad.” The watchman picked up the teapot and poured himself a large mug. “Bitterness, very characteristic of the Logistics Division.”
Mallos took a sip and frowned hard from the taste in his mouth.
“It suits your work to a tee.”
But Will, who was ordinarily talkative, did not continue the topic.
“Don’t look at me, Lord Mallos.” Will raised a hand helplessly. “I’m just a note-taker today.”
Seeing Will being abnormally wary, Mallos paused.
He wasn’t just depressed, but also trying hard to mask his anxiety.
But why?
The sound of footsteps approached from further within the room.
A ripple appeared in the world of dead silence, attracting Mallos’ attention.
“You’re late,” a voice from within the night shift break room said, calmly but somberly, “Lord Mallos.”
The voice sounded displeased.
The watchman turned around. A man who was of a similar age to him, with narrow eyes and thin lips and an unpleasant air of nobility about him, walked out from the inner room towards him.
‘It’s him.’
Mallos’ expression remained unchanged but he sighed a little inside.
Why did he still feel disappointed?
He knew the man would come, didn’t he?
“I didn’t expect you to come.” Mallos put down his cup, smiled, and faced the man. “Lord Talon.”
Vogel Talon—the vice-captain cum Chief Flagbearer that he had met just last night, scoffed in response, “Yes. I didn’t expect it too.”
Mallos nodded.
‘Vogel doesn’t look happy,’ In the world of dead silence, he told himself, ‘He wants something but can’t get it, so he’s expressing his discontent with anger.’
The watchman turned around and asked Will, “Where’s Jayden?
“I remember he’s usually the one responsible for recording?”
Behind the desk, flag bearer Will stared intently at the words he was writing and seemed oblivious to the watchman’s question, as if he had made up his mind to not look up.
“The Flag Bearer Division is very busy today. They’re understaffed.”
It was Vogel who replied.
The Chief Flagbearer continued coldly, “Thanks to what happened last night.”
Mallos smiled.
“Very busy? To the point that you, the chief, has to personally attend to this?”
The watchman turned around and looked directly into Vogel’s eyes that resembled willow tree leaves.
“To do…paperwork?”
Vogel did not answer. He moved behind the desk and pulled out a chair beside Will.
Mallos saw from the corner of his eyes that Will shifted a little to the side.
In the next second, Vogel coldly recited an old saying, “Knights congregate.”
Mallos and Will fell silent at these words.
Even if he had other thoughts on his mind, the watchman had no choice but to respond solemnly together with Will, “To obey the Emperor!”
He did not know the meaning behind this ancient ritual.
But ever since he could remember, this was the rule enforced by royal guards.
As if by this, the glory of the Emperor’s Praetorian Guards could be revived.
All he could do was follow.
The atmosphere became tense.
Vogel stared silently at him, seemingly gauging the veracity of his words.
After a few seconds, the vice-captain nodded. “Lock the door. Let’s begin.”
Will took a deep breath and did as ordered.
He took out a black box from a locked drawer. From the box, he retrieved a piece of Crystal Drop and a rough stone shaped like an egg.
Mallos’s gaze froze.
“Respected guard watchman Tormond Mallos, please take a seat.”
Will respectfully invited Mallos to sit while he pulled open an iron grille by the wall.
There were strange but delicate veined patterns carved on the wall under the iron grille, an ancient script that could barely be understood even with a lifetime of study.
Will did not seem to understand any of it, but this did not stop him from adhering to the procedure and embedding the Crystal Drop and stone into the holes in the wall that held the complicated patterns.
He was careful.
Accustomed, but reverent.
Will closed the iron grilled. After a few seconds, a strange and subtle glow radiated from the gaps in the grille.
“What does this mean?” Mallos stared at the light.
“It’s a Sound Replication Stone,” Will replied enthusiastically. He seemed equally amazed by it.
“It’s impressive, isn’t it? I’m told it will work just like that…”
Mallos interjected, “I know what this is.
“I want to know why.”
Will froze and looked towards Vogel subconsciously. “I’m sure you are aware that major records in the royal guards generally need to be logged as Eternal Files, especially those of the Flag Bearer Division…”
Vogel suddenly coughed.
Will immediately stopped speaking and put on a solemn expression.
“Morning of January 4, Year 680 of the Calendar of Eradication. In accordance with the ‘Sacred Covenant of Praetorians’, the work of the flag bearer of the royal guards hereby commences.
“The target of record is the guard watchman, Tormond Mallos.”
The flag bearer opened his notebook and kept to procedure. “I am special-class flag bearer Will Korden, responsible for witnessing and recording, accompanied by Chief Flagbearer Vogel Talon who will lead the…”
But Vogel cut him off.
“Enough.
“Crystal Drops are expensive. Let’s be brief.”
Under Will’s embarrassed gaze, Vogel took the lead.
“First of all, about the incident at Mindis Hall last night…”
Vogel turned to a page in the notes before him, stared at Mallos, and asked coldly, “Whether rushing towards the scene or dueling as a proxy, as personal guard captain, you knew about the relevant consequences.
“Why did you not stop him, but instead indulged Prince Thales’ impulsive actions?”
Mallos retracted his gaze from the wall in which the Sound Replication Stone and Crystal Drop were embedded and no longer looked at the ancient Sound Replication Spell that had been touched up by countless amateurs for the past six centuries and was now only barely useable.
He returned to the previous night.
“I have neither the right nor the ability to interfere in His Highness’ decision.
“Since he was speaking, I could not go against him in public.”
Vogel scoffed but its meaning was unclear. “Is that so?
“But why did I feel that you were more than eager to go against your superiors last night?”
‘He hasn’t changed.’
Mallos stared at Vogel’s face; as ever, there was distrust, harshness and animosity on it.
Just like eighteen years ago.
When Vogel, Falcondor, Stanley and himself were fresh-faced knight apprentices. Even Vogel, with the most prestigious family background and experience, was just a royal guard candidate, and technically not even an official guard.
Just a group of young men, captivated by the legends of yesteryears and longing for illusory honors.
But who were at the brink of adulthood and already mature.
After witnessing the nightmare of Bloody Year.
They panicked.
And were at a loss.
Mallos shook his head. “You must have misunderstood, Lord Talon. Last night, I…”
But Vogel did not give him a chance to finish his sentence. “Danny Doyle, that D.D, the first-class protector under you.”
The Chief Flagbearer lowered his head to review the document. “His performance last night was terrible. Humiliating, even.
“Acting rashly out of personal interest, putting the prince in danger, ignoring the orders of his superiors.”
Vogel looked up.
“Isn’t that right?”
Mallos and Vogel exchanged a silent look.
In those eighteen years, he and Vogel, the youths of their generation, albeit with trepidation, fought diligently to become who they most admired, but also became a complete stranger to themselves in the process.
From candidates, to trainees, to second-class officers, to first-class officers…
Till now.
They thought that by doing so.
They could bury the fear and desperation they once had.
And become adults.
Then train a new generation of youths.
“Yes,” Mallos replied straightforwardly, “His actions last night were stupid.”
Vogel scoffed ambiguously.
“As for first-class vanguard, Caleb Glover…”
The Chief Flagbearer turned over the page. “From what I gather, Doyle broke away from him and consequently endangered the situation.
“Isn’t that right?”
Mallos suddenly felt a little sleepy.
But he couldn’t yawn in front of them.
That would be impolite.
Not very polite.
“I cannot deny it.” Mallos picked up the maté tea and covered his yawn while enjoying the stimulation of bitterness in the world of dead silence.
This made him exhilarated.
The Logistics Division does good things occasionally, doesn’t it?
“So they should be punished, do you agree?”
During Vogel’s interrogation, Will was scribbling away beside him.
“Watchman?”
Mallos took his nose out of the cup and smiled plainly. “Of course.”
Vogel stared at him for a long while, as if trying to confirm whether the latter really reacted this way.
He took out a report, inverted it and presented it to Mallos. “Very well. Sign here then. I will send this to Chief Penal Officer Falcondor.
“Out of respect towards you, the Flag Bearer Division will not hold anyone else accountable…”
Mallos glanced at the flag bearer’s report before him and caught a few keywords.
Misconduct.
Overstepping.
Loyalty.
Deal with.
Mallos curled his lips.
But still obediently grabbed a pen and opened the report.
“Don’t worry. Although mistakes have been made, both Doyle and Glover’s actions were understandable and it’s unlikely they will be sent to the guard detention hole.”
Vogel was still looking at him with a blazing gaze, but the words that came out of his mouth had softened by much, “I suggested to Falcondor that they merely be demoted to second-class…”
Mallos was calm as usual. He tried the ink on some draft paper and grunted in agreement. “How magnanimous of you.”
‘He isn’t.
‘Vogel is eager to do so,’ Mallos told himself, ‘To flaunt the power that he had not been able to obtain elsewhere, to numb the pain that he felt from something else, to conceal his decades-old irritability.’
Yet Kirkirk continued to stare at the king devotedly, as if he did not hear it.
King Kessel raised a hand to rub his forehead. “Enough. Let’s take a break.
“We’ll continue in the afternoon, and discuss how to help Kirkirk solve the budget issue.”
These words rang out like the recess bell. Everyone breathed a sigh of relief.
Apart from the center of the topic—Solder and Kirkirk—who glared at each other before turning away in disdain.
Cullen, Krapen, Stylia Nydis, the scar-faced man from the Secret Intelligence Department… Everyone bowed courteously and left their seats.
Thales exhaled in relief too. He stood up along with Gilbert and helped the latter tidy his notes.
Until—
“You stay.”
Thales froze.
The king did not even open his eyes.
But everyone knew who he was referring to.
Deep down inside, the prince sighed and sat back down.
‘Fine.
‘I’ll have to face it sooner or later.’
The ministers each cast a look at him but their expressions varied.
“Relax,” Gilbert patted his shoulder and whispered, “Just answer truthfully.”
Solder walked past Thales intentionally and bowed to the Duke of Star Lake, “I hope you weren’t alarmed, Your Highness.
“It’s a shame. If the war in Western Desert went on for longer,” the military advisor sighed, “that could have further proven than the private armies of suzerains are useless and only pose a grave risk.
“Then the proposal to reform recruits into regular soldiers would have been more convincing.”
He looked at Thales ruefully, “It would have been great if you had stayed longer in the desert, Your Highness…”
‘Stayed longer.’
Thales froze for several seconds.
‘Why does this sound strange?’
A few minutes later, following the closing of the stone door, only Thales and the king were left at the Imperial Conference.
The narrow Ballard Room felt much more spacious.
But the atmosphere grew heavier.
Seated where he originally was, Thales attempted to suppress his anxiety as he watched King Kessel massage his temples.
All of a sudden.
“Do you love her?”
Thales was confused. “What? Love what?”
But the king had no intention of putting the question to him in the first place.
“Every time she is mentioned.”
King Kessel put down his hand, and reveal a pair of cold eyes from the darkness. “You act like a hen protecting its chick.”
Thales was shocked but attempted to maintain his poker face.
After the incident last night, he envisioned the reasons why King Kessel summoned him: assassination, duel, bet, acting at his own discretion…
But this…
“We have a good relationship,” Thales frowned in reply, “but, no.”
The Duke of Star Lake snorted with laughter and shook his head. “She is the Archduchess of Dragon Clouds City.
“I don’t love her.
“And it’s impossible that I do.”
After he uttered these words, King Kessel stared at him for a long while.
Thales felt a chill run through his spine.
“Then why, at the banquet last night,” the king asked softly, but his every word was hard-hitting, “Gilbert, Eastern Sea Hill, Land of Cliffs Region, Elaphure City, Reformation Tower. You moaned to everyone you could find and asked for their help, groveling…
“Just to help her?”
‘What?’
Thales’ heart skipped a beat.
‘How did he…
‘No.’
Thales frowned hard and attempted to explain himself, “I don’t understand. I met many people last night, but…”
But the king used affirmative sentences, which left no room for him to refute.
“Your performance last night was terrible.”
The Iron Hand King leaned back and slipped into the darkness of Ballard Room. There was a sliver of contempt in his tone. “Master Polaris.”
‘Polaris.’
Inexplicably, this nickname that Northlanders gave him made Thales shudder.
“So, the heir to the throne of Constellation has fallen in love with the Northland girl from Walton family.”
His father, his supreme king continued coldly, “Head over heels.
“Irrepressibly.”
Chapter 568: As Truthful As Possible |
Why was he here?
Every time he walked along the corridors of Renaissance Palace, Mallos could not help but ask himself that.
Rays of light leaked through the narrow stone windows, splitting the corridor on this floor into countless black and white striped fragments.
He walked through the light and shadows as his figure was sporadically lit amid the chilly morning air.
Soon, the path at his feet diverged in front of him: one led to the royal family’s treasury and the watchmen’s chamber that he frequented, another led to the guards’ night shift break room that he despised.
Why was he here?
Mallos turned into one without hesitation.
Because he was destined to be here.
When he walked past the prized portrait of the ‘Wise Prime Minister’ Halva from the era of the King of Renaissance (whose sagacious demeanor was striking as ever), the watchman greeted two logistics officers of the royal guards who were passing by, but he was acutely aware that their attitude was peculiar.
‘It’s only normal.
‘After all, after last night, Mindis Hall has become the center of focus of the entire capital,’ Mallos thought calmly.
‘What’s more, the person who is really bearing these pressures is…’
Mallos turned a corner habitually and pushed open a wooden door, entering the guards’ first night shift break room.
“So, Will, what goodies do we have this new year?”
Mallos stopped in front of the wall where the roster was hung and greeted the people in the room as he removed his weapon to hang it on the sword rack.
Just as he placed his hand on his weapon, he met another.
The Power of Eradication within him roused instinctively.
The whole world became quiet.
Desolate.
Silent.
Frosty.
Heavy.
Dim.
Until someone disturbed it.
“Maté tea.”
At the other end of the break room, a young man—flag bearer, Will—put down his cup with a look of revulsion and looked up from behind a table stacked full of documents.
“A merchant group brought it back from Shalte Archipelago. It’s bitter enough to make someone choke, it’s not selling well in the capital.
“So the Logistics Division bought a huge batch cheap, because it ‘refreshes’ you.
“At least that’s what they told me.”
Will looked depressed for some reason.
Mallos contorted his facial muscles to put on what others would perceive as a sincere smile.
“Not bad.” The watchman picked up the teapot and poured himself a large mug. “Bitterness, very characteristic of the Logistics Division.”
Mallos took a sip and frowned hard from the taste in his mouth.
“It suits your work to a tee.”
But Will, who was ordinarily talkative, did not continue the topic.
“Don’t look at me, Lord Mallos.” Will raised a hand helplessly. “I’m just a note-taker today.”
Seeing Will being abnormally wary, Mallos paused.
He wasn’t just depressed, but also trying hard to mask his anxiety.
But why?
The sound of footsteps approached from further within the room.
A ripple appeared in the world of dead silence, attracting Mallos’ attention.
“You’re late,” a voice from within the night shift break room said, calmly but somberly, “Lord Mallos.”
The voice sounded displeased.
The watchman turned around. A man who was of a similar age to him, with narrow eyes and thin lips and an unpleasant air of nobility about him, walked out from the inner room towards him.
‘It’s him.’
Mallos’ expression remained unchanged but he sighed a little inside.
Why did he still feel disappointed?
He knew the man would come, didn’t he?
“I didn’t expect you to come.” Mallos put down his cup, smiled, and faced the man. “Lord Talon.”
Vogel Talon—the vice-captain cum Chief Flagbearer that he had met just last night, scoffed in response, “Yes. I didn’t expect it too.”
Mallos nodded.
‘Vogel doesn’t look happy,’ In the world of dead silence, he told himself, ‘He wants something but can’t get it, so he’s expressing his discontent with anger.’
The watchman turned around and asked Will, “Where’s Jayden?
“I remember he’s usually the one responsible for recording?”
Behind the desk, flag bearer Will stared intently at the words he was writing and seemed oblivious to the watchman’s question, as if he had made up his mind to not look up.
“The Flag Bearer Division is very busy today. They’re understaffed.”
It was Vogel who replied.
The Chief Flagbearer continued coldly, “Thanks to what happened last night.”
Mallos smiled.
“Very busy? To the point that you, the chief, has to personally attend to this?”
The watchman turned around and looked directly into Vogel’s eyes that resembled willow tree leaves.
“To do…paperwork?”
Vogel did not answer. He moved behind the desk and pulled out a chair beside Will.
Mallos saw from the corner of his eyes that Will shifted a little to the side.
In the next second, Vogel coldly recited an old saying, “Knights congregate.”
Mallos and Will fell silent at these words.
Even if he had other thoughts on his mind, the watchman had no choice but to respond solemnly together with Will, “To obey the Emperor!”
He did not know the meaning behind this ancient ritual.
But ever since he could remember, this was the rule enforced by royal guards.
As if by this, the glory of the Emperor’s Praetorian Guards could be revived.
All he could do was follow.
The atmosphere became tense.
Vogel stared silently at him, seemingly gauging the veracity of his words.
After a few seconds, the vice-captain nodded. “Lock the door. Let’s begin.”
Will took a deep breath and did as ordered.
He took out a black box from a locked drawer. From the box, he retrieved a piece of Crystal Drop and a rough stone shaped like an egg.
Mallos’s gaze froze.
“Respected guard watchman Tormond Mallos, please take a seat.”
Will respectfully invited Mallos to sit while he pulled open an iron grille by the wall.
There were strange but delicate veined patterns carved on the wall under the iron grille, an ancient script that could barely be understood even with a lifetime of study.
Will did not seem to understand any of it, but this did not stop him from adhering to the procedure and embedding the Crystal Drop and stone into the holes in the wall that held the complicated patterns.
He was careful.
Accustomed, but reverent.
Will closed the iron grilled. After a few seconds, a strange and subtle glow radiated from the gaps in the grille.
“What does this mean?” Mallos stared at the light.
“It’s a Sound Replication Stone,” Will replied enthusiastically. He seemed equally amazed by it.
“It’s impressive, isn’t it? I’m told it will work just like that…”
Mallos interjected, “I know what this is.
“I want to know why.”
Will froze and looked towards Vogel subconsciously. “I’m sure you are aware that major records in the royal guards generally need to be logged as Eternal Files, especially those of the Flag Bearer Division…”
Vogel suddenly coughed.
Will immediately stopped speaking and put on a solemn expression.
“Morning of January 4, Year 680 of the Calendar of Eradication. In accordance with the ‘Sacred Covenant of Praetorians’, the work of the flag bearer of the royal guards hereby commences.
“The target of record is the guard watchman, Tormond Mallos.”
The flag bearer opened his notebook and kept to procedure. “I am special-class flag bearer Will Korden, responsible for witnessing and recording, accompanied by Chief Flagbearer Vogel Talon who will lead the…”
But Vogel cut him off.
“Enough.
“Crystal Drops are expensive. Let’s be brief.”
Under Will’s embarrassed gaze, Vogel took the lead.
“First of all, about the incident at Mindis Hall last night…”
Vogel turned to a page in the notes before him, stared at Mallos, and asked coldly, “Whether rushing towards the scene or dueling as a proxy, as personal guard captain, you knew about the relevant consequences.
“Why did you not stop him, but instead indulged Prince Thales’ impulsive actions?”
Mallos retracted his gaze from the wall in which the Sound Replication Stone and Crystal Drop were embedded and no longer looked at the ancient Sound Replication Spell that had been touched up by countless amateurs for the past six centuries and was now only barely useable.
He returned to the previous night.
“I have neither the right nor the ability to interfere in His Highness’ decision.
“Since he was speaking, I could not go against him in public.”
Vogel scoffed but its meaning was unclear. “Is that so?
“But why did I feel that you were more than eager to go against your superiors last night?”
‘He hasn’t changed.’
Mallos stared at Vogel’s face; as ever, there was distrust, harshness and animosity on it.
Just like eighteen years ago.
When Vogel, Falcondor, Stanley and himself were fresh-faced knight apprentices. Even Vogel, with the most prestigious family background and experience, was just a royal guard candidate, and technically not even an official guard.
Just a group of young men, captivated by the legends of yesteryears and longing for illusory honors.
But who were at the brink of adulthood and already mature.
After witnessing the nightmare of Bloody Year.
They panicked.
And were at a loss.
Mallos shook his head. “You must have misunderstood, Lord Talon. Last night, I…”
But Vogel did not give him a chance to finish his sentence. “Danny Doyle, that D.D, the first-class protector under you.”
The Chief Flagbearer lowered his head to review the document. “His performance last night was terrible. Humiliating, even.
“Acting rashly out of personal interest, putting the prince in danger, ignoring the orders of his superiors.”
Vogel looked up.
“Isn’t that right?”
Mallos and Vogel exchanged a silent look.
In those eighteen years, he and Vogel, the youths of their generation, albeit with trepidation, fought diligently to become who they most admired, but also became a complete stranger to themselves in the process.
From candidates, to trainees, to second-class officers, to first-class officers…
Till now.
They thought that by doing so.
They could bury the fear and desperation they once had.
And become adults.
Then train a new generation of youths.
“Yes,” Mallos replied straightforwardly, “His actions last night were stupid.”
Vogel scoffed ambiguously.
“As for first-class vanguard, Caleb Glover…”
The Chief Flagbearer turned over the page. “From what I gather, Doyle broke away from him and consequently endangered the situation.
“Isn’t that right?”
Mallos suddenly felt a little sleepy.
But he couldn’t yawn in front of them.
That would be impolite.
Not very polite.
“I cannot deny it.” Mallos picked up the maté tea and covered his yawn while enjoying the stimulation of bitterness in the world of dead silence.
This made him exhilarated.
The Logistics Division does good things occasionally, doesn’t it?
“So they should be punished, do you agree?”
During Vogel’s interrogation, Will was scribbling away beside him.
“Watchman?”
Mallos took his nose out of the cup and smiled plainly. “Of course.”
Vogel stared at him for a long while, as if trying to confirm whether the latter really reacted this way.
He took out a report, inverted it and presented it to Mallos. “Very well. Sign here then. I will send this to Chief Penal Officer Falcondor.
“Out of respect towards you, the Flag Bearer Division will not hold anyone else accountable…”
Mallos glanced at the flag bearer’s report before him and caught a few keywords.
Misconduct.
Overstepping.
Loyalty.
Deal with.
Mallos curled his lips.
But still obediently grabbed a pen and opened the report.
“Don’t worry. Although mistakes have been made, both Doyle and Glover’s actions were understandable and it’s unlikely they will be sent to the guard detention hole.”
Vogel was still looking at him with a blazing gaze, but the words that came out of his mouth had softened by much, “I suggested to Falcondor that they merely be demoted to second-class…”
Mallos was calm as usual. He tried the ink on some draft paper and grunted in agreement. “How magnanimous of you.”
‘He isn’t.
‘Vogel is eager to do so,’ Mallos told himself, ‘To flaunt the power that he had not been able to obtain elsewhere, to numb the pain that he felt from something else, to conceal his decades-old irritability.’
