As the curfew approached, there were fewer customers in the tavern. The mercenaries from Blood Whistle came to 'My Home' in twos and threes. It seemed like they were going to get drunk tonight.
Dante's Greatswords came down the stairs one after another. Louisa and Old Hammer greeted Thales before they left. Simon and Mickey, on the other hand, had no intention of paying any attention to him. They walked straight out of the tavern.
When Dean went downstairs, he was stopped by the people from Blood Whistle.
"Hey, Dean." Ricky snapped his fingers and raised his glass at the bald mercenary. "I heard that you guys ran into trouble outside?"
His words attracted everyone's attention.
"Usually, I might say that we're 'okay'." Dean walked down the stone stairs step by step. He looked rather solemn. "But now … I guess there's not much point in denying it."
He glanced at the two rather serious mercenaries beside Ricky.
"Yes," Dean said flatly. "We ran into trouble."
The mercenaries in the tavern fell silent. They looked at each other worriedly and doubtfully.
Ricky furrowed his brows.
"So the rumors are true?"
"Williams and his dogs are out again … What is it this time? The second purge? Going north to fight against Eckstedt? Supporting the Alliance of Freedom? Or is the King of Constellation displeased with the Tower of Eradication and is determined to get rid of them? Do you think it's possible for them to hire a hundred-man regiment to fight? Or only capture the suicide squad in the Prison of Bones? "
As Thales listened to Ricky's description of the baron and the Stardust Unit, he could not help but raise his eyebrows.
Obviously, the mercenaries did not have a good impression of the baron from Blade Fangs Camp.
Dean shook his head. "I'm not sure, but if I had to say, they're serious this time.
As for hiring … I don't think they're lacking in soldiers, Ricky. "
Dean had a warning look on his face as he looked around at the other members of Blood Whistle. "Even Blood Whistle can't stop the charge of just ten armored cavalrymen. I think they have at least a thousand cavalrymen. When the horses speed up, they don't care which side you stand on." Dean looked at his companions with a warning look on his face.
Ricky was silent for a while and exchanged glances with his friends.
"A thousand …"
Ricky shook his head and pointed at the bar. "I'll keep that in mind. We've been having a bad time lately. What do you want to drink? Rye? Old Beer? Blood grapes? Don't tell me it's Chaca … "
But Dean simply waved his hand and refused, "No, we've been through enough in the past few days."
Ricky lowered his finger.
"Dean, you know, if you think …" He looked at Dean with a serious expression and the corners of his lips curled up. "Blood Whistle will always welcome you. We are about to relocate and we are lacking a leader here … perhaps someone with a higher position?"
Dean spread his hands. It was obvious that this was not the first time he had encountered such a conversation. "Thank you, but … I already have a captain."
Ricky burst out laughing.
"Taking orders from a woman, Dean." The mercenary from Blood Whistle laughed and gulped down a mouthful of wine. "One day, you will die in her hands."
The mercenaries next to them jeered, "Maybe he died on top of her?"
"Or 'inside'?"
Everyone in the tavern roared with laughter.
Dean only shook his head nonchalantly. He waved goodbye to Ricky and went up to Thales.
Thales put down his wine glass, raised his head, and asked, "Is it over?"
Dean sighed and nodded.
"Probably. It's not a happy conversation in the team. We've lost too much."
"What about you, Wya?" the mercenary asked. "Do you have any clues about your family?"
"Probably." Thales exhaled and answered him in the same tone. "I'll familiarize myself with the environment and deal with some matters. I'll set off to look for them tomorrow."
"Deal with some matters … sounds good." Dean raised his eyebrows. "What about tonight?"
"I don't know yet. Maybe I'll ask Tampa for a bed," Thales said and glared at Tampa fiercely. "As long as I have enough money."
Tampa flashed his teeth happily.
Dean also smiled.
"You heard it too. Blood Whistle has booked the entire tavern." The bald mercenary looked at the people in 'My Home'. "Come with me. We've rented a small house nearby. It used to be the team's temporary station, but … it can at least let you live for one night."
As he stared at Dean's expression, Thales had a thought.
He slowly clenched his fists, then relaxed them.
Thales flashed a smile. "Sounds good. Anyway, I have nowhere else to go."
Dean raised his hand and gestured that they could leave.
Thales walked down the bar counter and picked up his luggage.
"Hey, Dean." Thales shook his head at Tampa, then turned his head around and said seriously, "Thank you.
For … everything from the desert to here. "
Dean stared at him for a few seconds.
"You're welcome. I'm also planning for myself." Dean sized him up and said in a joking tone, "You're a noble. Maybe you're quite rich, aren't you?"
Thales smiled in response.
"But before that …"
Dean frowned and looked at the other side of the tavern. "Why did he drink so much?"
Thales followed his line of sight. Quick Rope staggered over and fell on a table, causing the guests to look at him in an unfriendly manner.
"We've run into too many people in the desert." Thales sighed softly.
"Yeah." Dean's frown grew deeper. "For a newbie who's only following a group for the second time."
Just as the customers were about to roll up their sleeves and give Quick Rope a night he would never forget, Dean turned and walked towards him.
"Come on, give me a hand."
We can't leave him here. "
Thales shrugged and followed Dean.
A few hours later, Thales lay straight in the small house belonging to Dante's Greatsword. He felt the hard bed pressing against him and stared at the moonlight outside the window with a dumbfounded expression.
The mercenaries' encampment was indeed not that great. There were four beds in a small room. The walls were made of clay, the roof was thatched, and there were sand, dust, and spider webs everywhere. The fence door looked like it was going to fall apart when it was pushed and pulled. Even the simple toilet outside the house reminded Thales of the time he spent in the Abandoned Houses.
But at least it was better than sleeping in the wild.
Ten meters away, Quick Rope's heavy breathing traveled into his ears. It was mixed with drunken talk and sleep talk from time to time.
Dean slept in the room next door. Old Hammer went to look for his old buddies whom he had not seen for a long time. He reckoned that he would drink until dawn. Mickey never liked to stay in a crowd. The Barren Bone people, who were few in number in the camp and were regarded as enemies, had their own places to go. As for Louisa, according to Dean, she went back to her mother and stepfather's house.
Thales took a deep breath.
He could not believe it. He escaped from Dragon Clouds City, passed through the Great Desert, even though it was only a small part of its periphery. He went through the Black Track, the Star Killer, the Raven of Death, hunger, loneliness, heat, cold, orcs, and mercenaries, and finally arrived in Constellation's territory.
He was back.
Thales looked at the bleak moonlight above the border of the desert and sensed the rare peace in Blade Fangs Camp during the curfew.
Quick Rope turned over and fell to the bottom of the bed. But he was still mumbling something and did not wake up.
Thales let out a long breath and sat up.
With hell's senses, Dean's breathing in his dreams could be heard clearly in the room next door.
In the dark, he watched Quick Rope's silhouette form a complicated 'k' on the floor. He smiled and shook his head.
'These people.
'Mercenaries.
'What kind of life is that?'
Thales thought in a daze.
The prince took two slow breaths. In the next second, he grabbed his luggage and the Crossbow of Time by the wall and stood up quietly.
He carefully stepped over Quick Rope's body and pushed the door open without making a sound. He walked through the small, simple and dilapidated hall and pushed open another door.
Before him was a strong, bald man with his arms crossed was lying on his side on the bed. His chest rose and fell evenly, and his breathing was soft.
He slept soundly, unlike Quick Rope next door.
Thales closed the door and walked to the man's bed.
The prince stared at him for a long time without making a sound.
It was so long that the moonlight began to move.
Dean's breathing was still deep.
Finally, Thales' expression slowly turned cold.
He looked at Dean's broad back and slowly extended his hand.
He reached for his waist.
He pulled out JC's dagger.
The blade shone with a faint, cold light. Thales could not help but frown a little.
Six years.
This sharp dagger given to him by Jala had been with him for six years.
Quide, the Blood Clan, Dragon Clouds City, the calamities, Lampard, the Great Desert …
Over the past six years, no matter what kind of danger he faced, every time Thales stretched out his hand to touch the dagger and felt its cold and tough texture, he would feel an inexplicable sense of security.
It was a power that made him clench his teeth, stiffen his shoulders, and face everything in front of him.
But that was all self-defense. He was forced to counterattack and fight back.
But this time …
Today, Thales suddenly realized that when blood flowed over the dagger's blade, the surface of the blade revealed more than just its name.
It was also its nature as a murderous weapon.
Every time Thales mustered up his courage and determination to stab his enemy with the dagger, he would remember the feeling when he used JC to take away a life for the first time. Hot and slippery blood flowed over the gauntlet, gushed onto his forearm, flowed to his chest, and shot toward his head.
However, none of those feelings were as real as they were now.
'It's so easy to take away a life.
'It's not that I haven't killed before. On the contrary, I've killed quite a lot of people.'
Thales thought quietly.
From his life in the Abandoned House in Lower City District, to the assassination on King's Street, to the bloody battle of life and death in the Great Desert …
But for a long time, he had deliberately ignored the feeling of killing someone.
He had no choice, did he?
Kill, or be killed.
Thales raised JC gently, narrowed his eyes, and aimed the tip of the blade at Dean's neck.
With hell's senses, the blood in his carotid artery surged vigorously, forcefully, and full of life.
Thales continued to raise the dagger and aimed it at Dean's neck. His face was expressionless.
'I have no choice.'
He told himself in his heart.
With a simple stab, he could negate the other party's meaning, strip away their existence, and make their value in continuing to exist in this world disappear without a trace. He would be gone, gone, dead, and would never appear anywhere, in front of anyone, at any time.
Just like what Quick Rope said, he would no longer have thoughts, feelings, or consciousness. Nothing would be left behind, and he would not know anything.
He would completely disappear. From then on, he would lose all possibilities, all development, and all future.
Thales snapped out of his daze and looked at the sleeping, living person in front of him.
All he needed was a gentle stab.
Everything about the other party would immediately disappear.
As for the Blade Wielder, he, Thales, could obtain many things. Revenge? Benefits? Or simple satisfaction?
Or the pleasure of killing the other party and eliminating the unhappiness, frustration, hurt, and pain he felt from the other party, along with the other party's existence, and venting all his frustrations?
Or … the pleasure of calculating the achievement of his goal after eliminating the other party, and the great profit?
Or the feeling of power, authority, and dignity of controlling life and death, toying with other people's fates, and deciding everything?
'F * ck.'
Thales glared at Dean's neck and trembled slightly.
'I have no choice.'
He told himself for the third time.
'It's another necessary killing, that's all.
'Is it?
Pleasure. '
Quide's ferocious and hateful face flashed across his mind.
Pleasure.
King Nuven's confident smile flashed across his mind.
'Authority?'
This time, Chapman Lampard's cold and ruthless expression appeared before his eyes.
Thales took a deep breath and moved the dagger to the best angle to stab it.
'For the pleasure of revenge, for the pleasure of benefits, for the sake of bullsh * t authority, who cares … With just a gentle stab, everything will be over.
'As long as I kill him, I don't have to worry anymore.'
At that moment …
A pale and terrified face appeared before his eyes.
It was a face from a long time ago, so long that Thales almost forgot about it.
It was Kellett.
One of the people in the sixth house, that pitiful child, bravely rushed out at the last moment of his life, just to protect that little girl.
However …
Thales shuddered slightly. He seemed to have returned to that night. That damned Quide laughed as he slit Kellett's neck. The child's face was full of fear, but the murderer's face was filled with absurd and disgusting satisfaction and excitement.
'F * ck.
It was probably the same for Quide. With just a gentle stab, that kind of pleasure …
'F * ck.'
Another face appeared before his eyes.
It was a little girl who stood in the Hall of Heroes in Dragon Clouds City. She had her arms crossed, feeling wronged. There was a hint of arrogance on her face, and she looked a little delicate. She was an annoying little girl at first glance.
Alex Walton.
An innocent child who was born into sin.
Her upturned mouth was eventually replaced by the painful spasms and contorted cheeks after she drank the poison.
Thales stared blankly at the sleeping Dean. In front of his eyes were King Nuven's cold smile, Mirk's despairing cries, Nicholas' expressionless indifference, and Little Rascal's frightened sobs …
'F * ck.'
It was the same for King Nuven. With just a cup of wine, the humiliation and hatred of the past were settled. That kind of pleasure …
'F * ck.'
Thales gently closed his eyes.
Dean's neck disappeared before his eyes. Dragon Clouds City from six years ago appeared from the darkness.
In the ruined and burning Shield District, corpses were strewn all over the ground, and there were endless wails.
In such a scene, the Archduke of Black Sand Region, a terrifying man with a cold expression, coldly wore the blood-stained crown.
Under his feet, the Born King's head rolled into the dust and fell among the countless corpses in Shield District. They were civilians, nobles, craftsmen, farmers, and White Blade Guards …
"Don't be cold, Qiren, don't be cold …
"Humans are animals. They will slowly get used to many things, such as indifference, and certain things that we know are inappropriate.
Once you relax and get used to it, you will no longer feel the difference between yourself and the outside world, and you will no longer be able to find your original self. Hang in there, Qiren, don't compromise. Don't let this world hold you captive. "
"Oh my, my lady, why did you suddenly become so … so 'Wu Qiren'?"
"Is it really good to criticize yourself? Besides, isn't this the forte of your profession? Starting from an angle that you have never seen before, shocking your established knowledge, refreshing your worldview, breaking the wrong and superficial understanding that you originally believed in without thinking, and even treated as supreme dogma. You will discover that certain things are actually so ridiculous, and that the way you viewed them before was also so unreasonable. You will reveal a brand new world to yourself, discover the principle that you and the world do not know about daily use, and sublimate yourself from there? "
"Huh, after hearing your vivid description, I suddenly feel like I'm so great."
"Haih, there's no other way. After being with me for a long time, even if you're as stupid as Spongebob, you'll still slowly sublimate yourself … right?"
"So, can we go now? Don't touch my head anymore. Your cat is in your own house, you can touch it for free, and you don't even have to stand on your toes. We've already donated money, so there's no need for us to stand in front of this donation box for five minutes, right?"
"Ah! My comic con, let's go, let's go! "
Thales opened his eyes abruptly.
In the silence, Thales panted softly. He was drenched in sweat, and his expression was one of struggle.
JC was only a palm away from Dean's carotid artery.
He gripped the hilt of the dagger tightly in his hand, and the tip of the blade trembled continuously.
'F * ck.
'F * ck!'
A long time seemed to have passed.
He sucked in a deep breath and slowly exhaled.
'No.'
The prince put down the dagger tiredly.
Thales touched his damp forehead and bit his lower lip with great difficulty and pain.
In the end, he put away the dagger and took one last look at the sleeping Dean.
The prince was like an ascetic believer who had gone through a great ordeal. He slowly turned around and faced the door with a bitter expression.
However, when Thales took the first step to leave …
"Why?"
The sudden voice made Thales' hair stand on end!
"Why did you give up?"
Thales closed his eyes and heaved a heavy sigh.
He turned around. Under the moonlight, he could vaguely see that Dean had sat up and was leaning against the wall. He was staring at him coldly.
"Stabbing your enemy in the back and getting rid of him before he sees you is always the best choice," the bald mercenary said faintly.
He bent one leg and placed it on the edge of the bed. He placed his right elbow on his knee, and the axe was right beside his hand.
"Or perhaps …
"Do you have to capture me alive?"
Thales stared at the mercenary with great difficulty.
"You're awake," he said bitterly.
"What else can I do? Do you think I should let my guard down completely and put my life in your hands? "
Dean sneered and said, "Who are you?"
Thales opened his mouth, but he did not know where to start.
"I, you …"
"Or should I ask you directly?" Dean flicked the axe next to his hand, his gaze sharp. "Who sent you here?"
Thales fixed his gaze on him.
His gaze was conflicted.
Finally, Thales slowly exhaled.
He put away his complicated expression and returned to his most indifferent and cold expression.
"Dean, right?"
"You were saved by Old Dante from the desert a few years ago, and since then, you became one of them. And before that …"
Thales stared back at Dean coldly.
"You're just an ordinary mercenary, but you're literate and knowledgeable," the prince said softly. "You're from Northland, and you're able to wield your axe perfectly. When you're fighting against the orcs, your feints and feints remind me of another famous White Blade Guard from Eckstedt."
Dean did not speak. His gaze was focused on the axe beside his hand.
The house was silent under the moonlight. The curfew on the streets made the surroundings so quiet that it did not seem like the Western Frontline, but a countryside.
"Not only that, you also know quite a bit of the orc language, and it's far from the level of 'You're good, you deserve to die, I'll kill you' that soldiers only learn after they encounter them," Thales continued. "That requires a rather long period of systematic learning.
"You even shaved your head, as if that can hide your hair color."
Dean was expressionless. He raised his left hand and touched his head.
Thales stared straight at him.
"Your understanding and knowledge of the country's affairs and political situation are far from the level of a rash soldier who only knows how to make a living and run his business.
"Even Tampa says that it's a waste for you to be a mercenary. Even the people from Blood Whistle want to recruit you."
Thales took a deep breath, and with great difficulty, he voiced his greatest suspicion.
"Dean, mercenary Dean, don't you think that these characteristics … are too obvious on one person?"
His voice echoed in the small room, and it was clear.
Time seemed to pass.
Dean raised his head and met Thales' questioning gaze without flinching.
"Obvious?"
Disdain and anger appeared on Dean's face. "Hmph.
"So, who sent you?"
He asked bluntly.
"Lisban? Or the White Blade Guards? "
Thales' gaze froze in midair.
"Or someone else?"
Under the moonlight outside the window, Dean spoke slowly, and his gaze became more serious. "The order you received was to find me … or to kill me?"
Thales frowned deeply.
He continued to stare at Dean motionlessly.
"Even Mickey said that it was a mistake to follow Tormorden on this trip. He's not a good trading partner, and Constellation's lockdown order is even more inappropriate." Thales did not answer. Instead, he continued softly, "But you still came out, and you brought the mercenaries with you. Why?
This is not in line with your usual shrewdness and sagacity. "
Dean clenched his fists.
"Is it because you know about the Alliance of Freedom, the storm that Eckstedt and Dragon Clouds City are going through, and because you're worried about your hometown and country, that's why you took the risk to go north, just to confirm it?"
Dean did not speak.
Thales spoke again.
"Answer me, Dean." Thales sighed. "Are you him?"
This time, Dean raised his head slowly.
"Him?"
Dean said flatly, "Who?"
"You know who I'm talking about."
Dean smiled.
He slowly raised his arm and pointed at Thales.
"You.
"You're also very suspicious, aren't you?
"A person came from the north, and mysteriously fell in the desert." Dean tilted his head and swept his gaze over Thales. "In his hands was a military crossbow that was obviously not owned by a commoner, and a sharp dagger that could cut through metal like mud."
Thales felt his back and waist tense up.
"Your words and actions are very orthodox, very polite, and you pay attention to details. At first glance, I can tell that you're a well-educated person. This is also the reason why no one wanted to talk to you a few days ago. Hmm, maybe except for Quick Rope. He's just a hothead who's afraid of the sea.
"And you're very smart. At least, the identity you fabricated matches your words and actions. At first glance, it seems quite reasonable."
Dean sneered.
"But what's strange to me is that you're different from most nobles.
"Whether it's hot sand or cold, firm rocks, you can lie down without any problems and fall asleep easily. Jerky that has been dried for a few months, coarse bread that's so hard you can't bite into it, stewed vegetables with a fishy smell, burnt food … no matter how disgusting the food is, you can swallow it smoothly and eat it as if it's normal.
"It's just like you're used to it.
"At least, it's not like the lords in the castles I know.
"So, either you're born into a nouveau riche family, and you haven't had the time to become like the big, stupid, and selfish bastards in the castles who are becoming more and more stupid with each generation." Dean narrowed his eyes and his expression was solemn.
"Or, there must be a wise person in your family who has accumulated experience, knowledge, time, or experience. He chooses to mold the next generation into a man through cruel hardships instead of using food and fences to raise you into a fat pig."
Thales did not move and listened quietly.
"And Wya Caso?"
Dean sneered, but his gaze on Thales was as cold as ever. "Next time, when you tell another Northlander your name, it's best not to use the same surname as the 'Cunning Fox of Constellation', Gilbert Caso."
Thales moved slightly.
"That year at Broken Dragon Fortress, that Constellatiate man came alone. Under the angry gazes of the Common-Elected King of Eckstedt and the six archdukes, he spoke frankly and argued passionately. In the end, when he signed the peace treaty, he was quite famous."
Dean's lips curled up.
"I'm sorry." Thales shook his head regretfully. "It's my first time running away from home. Many things happened suddenly, and I'm a little nervous."
Dean's gaze flickered.
"So, who are you?" he asked softly.
"You're only a teenager, but you have extraordinary agility and sharp reflexes. I suspect that you're a 'Coming-Of-Age Killer' who could persevere without wetting his pants when he faced the terrifying orcs for the first time. Secca?"
Dean lowered his head and hid his expression in the darkness where the moonlight could not shine. "According to what Tormorden said, those Constellation cavaliers were after you?"
Thales breathed slowly.
He clenched his fists tightly and put them down gently.
"Listen, I didn't want to make things so complicated." The Prince of Constellation spread his palms and said in his calmest and most serious tone, "I could have found the army in Blade Fangs Camp a long time ago and let them take action … but I didn't. I waited until now."
Dean nodded slightly, and the corners of his lips curled up into a smile.
"So, you do have a high status, and you have a close relationship with the officials." The bald mercenary snorted. "But you hid your name until now, just for me?"
Thales ignored the other party's words.
"I only need you to answer a simple question for me, Dean," he said flatly.
Dean stared at him with interest.
"What a coincidence." The mercenary nodded. "Me too, Wya."
There was silence.
In the suffocating silence, the two of them stared at each other in the dark and airtight house.
Then, Thales spoke again.
"So, Dean." The Prince of Constellation cleared his throat and finally asked his last question in a serious and cautious manner.
"Are you Moriah Walton?
The capricious prince who escaped from Dragon Clouds City six years ago? "
Dean did not answer, nor did he move. He did not even spare a glance at Thales.
He only stared at Thales coldly.
"What about you, Wya?" He spoke slowly and raised his head slightly, letting the moonlight shine on his distinct facial features.
"Should I call you Thales Jadestar?"
Thales tensed his muscles.
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