Before he pushed open the door to Dean's room, Thales had thought of many possible scenarios.
The current situation was one of them: the suspicious and ruthless mercenary prince showed an uncooperative attitude, treated him as an enemy, and kept his guard up against Thales.
But the prince's reaction was a little too much.
"You didn't have to do this."
Thales stared at Moriah and felt the faint prickling pain in his neck. In shock and bewilderment, he raised his hands and gestured to his opponent.
He calmed his breathing and suppressed the surging Sin of Hell's River. He suppressed the thought of fighting back with everything he had. "I said that I would keep my promise and let you go. No one will target you, and you won't be in trouble."
"You 'said'?"
Moriah's voice sounded a little strange. It was calm and cold. "This doesn't sound like a strong guarantee."
Moriah did not completely suppress him, but the knife in his hand accurately and skillfully stuck to his artery. Thales could even clearly feel the surge of blood in his neck.
'Damn it.'
The Prince of Constellation tried his best to remain calm. The luggage on his back was pushed against the bed, and it hurt his back.
But the former Prince of Eckstedt's paranoia and vigilance made him extremely uneasy. It was as if Moriah had changed into another person. It was as if the former mercenary Dean, who had a cheerful smile and an easy-going personality, had died, and the one who came back to life in him was another cold-blooded and cruel person.
Thales even felt a little regretful. Perhaps he should have gone to the army in the first place.
Even if he did not have to deal with those annoying officers in the Great Desert, he could at least go to the Constellation army in the camp, and then come here safely to face Moriah, who might be there.
'But …'
Thales shook his head in his heart and chased this thought out of his mind.
'No.'
'I can't.'
"What other guarantee do you want, Moriah? My life?"
"If I really wanted to deal with you, whether it was in the Great Desert or now, I could have gone to my army. With them as my trump card, I could have killed you or let you go with a single word."
Thales tried to figure out Moriah's mentality and thoughts.
"But I didn't, and the reason I did it …"
Thales gulped, and his neck felt a prickling pain.
"No matter how I deal with you, Moriah, once I use the army and the power of the kingdom, your identity can no longer be kept a secret." The Prince of Constellation took a deep breath and tried his best to pull his neck back.
"No matter what I say, even if I give an explicit order to let you go, the Secret Intelligence Department or other people with ulterior motives will notice this mercenary that the prince has his eyes on. They will thoroughly investigate his background, his details, and his secrets until the truth comes to light."
Moriah continued to stare at him. His eyes reflected the thin moonlight and shone with a cold light.
From his expression, Thales saw a hint of coldness and … ridicule?
The feeling of unease grew.
"If the Secret Intelligence Department finds out about your identity, the first heir to Dragon Clouds City who should have died …"
Thales gritted his teeth. "They won't let you go."
"If you fall into the hands of the Secret Intelligence Department, everything will be irreversible …"
"This is something neither you nor I want to see."
Thales gasped. He remembered things that were even deeper and further away.
If Moriah fell into the hands of the Secret Intelligence Department …
That girl.
That girl in Dragon Clouds City.
Then it would only be a matter of time before her identity, her bloodline, and the truth of that night were exposed to the Black Prophet …
Thales thought bitterly.
At that time, her fate might be a hundred times worse than being threatened and controlled by King Chapman. At least Chapman still cared about the legitimacy of his throne and more or less protected the archduchess' fragile status.
As the head of the Secret Intelligence Department, Morat Hansen was not Thales. The old man in black with the cane did not have much of a relationship with the archduchess.
As the creator of 'Dragon's Blood', the Black Prophet would never care if the poor girl was chopped into pieces or beheaded as long as there was profit to be made.
'That girl.
'The girl in the library. The girl with the glasses.
'The girl who was brought out of Heroic Spirit Palace six years ago because of me, and returned to Heroic Spirit Palace because of me.
'The girl who risked her life to stop the vassals for me on the day of the council hearing …'
Thales felt that the pair of glasses in front of his chest had an extraordinary weight.
Moriah's pupils slowly focused.
"You don't seem to trust the Kingdom's Secret Intelligence Department that serves you?"
These words reminded Thales of six years ago.
He remembered Dragon's Blood.
'No, I can't.'
Thales clenched his fists.
The Secret Intelligence Department could not know about Moriah.
He could not risk the destruction of Saroma by asking the army to deal with this matter.
'Everything that happened in the Hall of Heroes that night must remain a secret forever. King Nuven is dead, Nicholas and Lisban must also shut up. As for King Chapman …'
Thales thought coldly.
'No one will use this secret to create a second' Dragon's Blood '.'
Thales calmed his breathing and forced an ugly smile. "Trust is a rare thing in this era."
Moriah's expression changed slightly.
"But why do you trust me?"
He asked softly. The knife in his hand changed its angle, but it was still pressed against Thales' artery.
"Because you have no other better choice," Thales said slowly.
"Listen to me, Moriah. Leave now and pretend that nothing happened. From now on, conceal your identity, stay away from Lampard's minions and the Secret Intelligence Department's sight. At least you will have freedom.
"I believe that is something you cherish."
This time, Moriah stared at him for a long time, but he did not loosen his grip.
Thales stared back at him, hoping that he would regain some of his rationality.
In the end, Moriah laughed.
"Hahahaha …"
His laughter was cold.
It made Thales' nerves, which had eased after much difficulty, tense up again.
But what was scary was not Moriah's laughter, but what he said next.
"You misunderstood, Your Highness."
Moriah said slowly, enunciating each word, "What I asked just now was …
"Why do you trust me …
"It must be Moriah Walton."
Once he said this, Thales was stunned for a full three seconds.
'What?
He said … '
The night in Blade Fangs Camp was rather quiet. The heavy fortresses blocked the wind and sand, and also blocked the transmission of sound.
At that moment, the atmosphere in the small room was frighteningly silent.
Thales stared at his opponent in disbelief.
"I don't understand," he said subconsciously.
Moriah snorted coldly.
"Of course you don't understand." The mercenary's gaze was sharp. "Just like how a fish on a hook doesn't understand why there is a hook in the bait."
Thales' hands trembled.
'Wait.'
The prince glared at 'Moriah', who held his life in his hands, and felt a chill run down his spine.
'No.
'No.'
He finally realized that he had made a fatal mistake.
"It's too obvious."
Thales mumbled.
He stared at Moriah in front of him in a daze and remembered a suspicious point that he had ignored for a long time.
"It's too obvious. Your hair, the color of your eyes, your mannerisms, your political views, the orc language, your axe skills, and your identity as a mercenary … even your Northlander background and accent …"
A cold sneer appeared on Moriah's face.
The Prince of Constellation sized up this mercenary in shock.
His brain started working, and he thought about things that he usually did not pay attention to.
He remembered their first meeting.
From then on, this excellent and outstanding mercenary led Dante's Greatsword to negotiate, fight, and survive in the complicated and vast desert. He lived a colorful life as a mercenary.
He was even … slightly famous.
"It's too obvious."
Thales' pupils focused on the man. His heart raced, and his breathing became rapid.
"As a mercenary, you run around all year round, running back and forth openly … But you don't hide, hide, or even have no scruples." Thales shuddered at his own thoughts.
"You're practically telling the few people who know that Moriah is still alive that the prince is here.
This is not something a person who has been on the run for many years would do. "
Moriah … No, it should be Dean. His smile remained.
"And your reaction after you were seen through … is also problematic."
"No, you're not him." Thales stared at the man in front of him, and his face suddenly turned pale.
"You're not Moriah Walton," he said in a daze.
The moment he finished speaking …
The house was as quiet as ever.
The moonlight was cold, and it shone on Dean's face, making him look pale and ghastly.
The first thing that rang was his low and intermittent laughter.
Dean's shoulders trembled slightly, but his hand that held the knife was as steady as ever.
The bald mercenary said flatly, "No, I'm not."
Thales' breathing stopped for a moment.
"I just didn't expect you to be so interested in Moriah." Dean held the knife in his left hand steadily and said softly, "In the original plan, I would have had to spend some effort and pay a price to get you out of the heavily guarded army."
Thales took a deep breath. He did not even care that his neck might be in danger if he made too big of a movement.
He could no longer care that much.
At this moment, his heart was already filled with shock and regret.
"Why?"
Thales' chest heaved. "Who are you?!"
Dean shook his head and sighed softly.
He lowered his body and drew close to Thales' face. He used the knife to suppress the possibility of his target resisting. "At first, when I was sent to carry out this mission, I was full of confidence. Only the most talented and capable person can obtain the honor of going deep into the enemy's territory and come into contact with the deepest and most unpleasant secrets …
"To find the prince who should have been dead for a long time."
Thales was stunned.
'Carry out the mission …
'Go deep into the enemy's territory …
'To find the prince who should have been dead for a long time?
'He is …
'He is …'
"But as time passed, the search was fruitless day after day. Year after year, there was still no news."
Dean's voice was exceptionally cold.
"It was as if Moriah had vanished from the face of the earth. Whether it was the Three Kingdoms of the Mystery Sea, Bramble Land, Dragon-Kissed Land, Camus Union, or the Great Desert, I searched all the places where mercenaries could be found, but I could not find any trace of him.
"I used every method possible to figure out his psychology, behavior, and goals from all the known information." There was deep hatred in Dean's words. "For countless days and nights, I lurked in places filled with spies from the Secret Intelligence Department and Constellation's forces. I carefully hid myself and racked my brains to find Moriah."
"Nothing."
Dean gritted his teeth.
"There were no clues at all.
"I was in despair."
Thales' breathing trembled.
With the Sin of Hell's River, the prince forced himself to calm down and reconsider his current situation.
"So …" Thales furrowed his brows tightly. "So, you just …"
Dean looked at the incredulous Thales with a smile on his face, as if he was enjoying the pleasure of this moment.
"So, when I was at my wit's end, I turned myself into him, into Moriah."
The mercenary gritted his teeth.
"I imitated his appearance, copied his words and actions, learned his mannerisms, and even his thoughts and personality. A prince? A Northlander? Learned the orc language? A student of the Star Killer? A mercenary? A whore who liked the lower classes? "
His words became more hurried, and there was deep hatred and indignation hidden in them.
"I treated his wish as my wish, and his actions as my actions. I went to the places he was most likely to go, did the things he was most likely to do, and hoped to find something using the suspicious identity of 'Dean', to understand something, or to lure out those who were interested in him, to see what clues I could get from them, or even to lure out Moriah himself."
Dean's raised voice came to an abrupt halt. His expression was obscure and pained.
"But I still failed."
"Nothing," the suspicious mercenary said hatefully. "Other than a few spies who were suspected to be Northlanders, there was still nothing.
"During these five years, I was like a headless fly, a blind cheetah, and a stiff sand snake. I struggled in pain and hopelessness in all the places where Moriah might appear," Meng Chao said in a low voice.
"As long as there was no good news, as long as there was no trace of him, and as long as I did not complete the mission, I was trapped here. I could not go back, I could not leave, and I could not break free …"
He stared at Thales. "For a whole five years.
"Do you understand?"
Thales slowly calmed down.
'So, everything is clear now. The person in front of me is …'
Dean sneered and said, "I've had enough of this endless and fruitless pursuit. I wasted my years and talents, which should have been promising, on sand and swords."
The look in his eyes changed.
"But at this moment, you appeared."
Dean stared at Thales with a fanatical look, and the muscles on his face contorted inch by inch.
"My savior."
Thales stared at him with a dazed expression, but his right hand quietly moved to his waist.
But the experienced mercenary noticed it.
The knife in his hand moved slightly.
Thales had to raise his head to prevent it from cutting into his artery. At the same time, he sighed and lowered his right hand.
"So, you've been eyeing me since the moment we met," the prince said in annoyance.
He only snorted coldly and shook his head. "At first, I wasn't sure who you were, especially when we first met Constellation's army. You never revealed your identity. Even after we arrived at Blade Fangs Camp, you didn't show any signs of wanting to look for reinforcements. This made me even more suspicious. 'Maybe you're not who I think you are?'" Dean did not care about Thales' petty tricks.
"I had no choice but to suppress the urge to attack time and time again … My probing had to be done at the right time. I was hiding here, isolated and without help. If I was the slightest bit careless, I would be doomed eternally and drowned in the Secret Intelligence Department and Constellation's army who would come after hearing the news."
"Until tonight."
The house was still quiet, but the atmosphere was completely different.
The cold-faced man suppressed Thales, turning the first night the mercenaries returned home into a night full of conspiracies and dangerous conflicts.
"You are a spy, a scout, a secret agent, or something else," Thales said indignantly.
"You are not here for me."
Dean raised his eyebrows.
"No." He shook his head, feeling rather satisfied.
"Escaped Thales, you are a pleasant surprise. Perhaps you are not my first target, and you are not the mission I have been hiding here for, but there is no doubt that you are a ticket. You are my special permit to jump out of this bottomless quagmire."
Thales closed his eyes and exhaled in pain.
"Haha, now it seems that King Chapman and you both know about Moriah. He will not be satisfied," Dean said in a low voice. "But I caught you. At least this makes sense. I can finally leave this place."
Thales thought of something.
'Wait.'
He opened his eyes, and with the knife on his neck, he spoke with difficulty.
"Her?"
Thales asked in surprise, "Did you say 'her'?"
"Yes, my dear Prince Thales."
Dean nodded slightly, and a cold smile appeared at the corners of his lips.
He lowered his upper body a little and put on a non-standard bow.
"'Secret Room' greets you."
Thales did not answer. His sighs were all buried in his chest.
There was a long silence between the man and the teenager.
After a long while, Thales exhaled.
"What do you plan to do? Knock me out and take me away?
"Where do you want to go? Don't forget that this is Blade Fangs Camp. Are you going to take me west and north to the desert filled with Constellation's army? Or are you going east and south to enter Constellation's territory? "
Dean shook his head.
"The situation here is indeed not good, but there will always be a way."
Thales snickered.
"So, not only are you not Moriah, but you are also a spy sent to search for Moriah."
He frowned slightly.
"But … my dear Dean, do you really think that I would be so stupid as to risk my life and come at night to confront you without any confidence?"
Dean's smile froze.
"Have you not thought about it carefully?"
Thales said softly, "How did we meet?"
Dean was slightly stunned.
But at this moment, something unexpected interrupted the confrontation between the two of them.
* Thud. *
There was a soft sound.
The bright light shone into the dark room and clearly illuminated the two people on the bed.
Thales and Dean turned their gazes at the same time.
They saw the drunk mercenary, Quick Rope, holding an oil lamp and standing at the door with a dazed expression. He was still in the position of pushing the door open.
Both of them were stunned.
Quick Rope yawned loudly. His eyes were still drowsy.
"I'm sorry, Dean, I didn't want to wake you up. I just wanted to take a dump in the middle of the night and came to get something to wipe my butt …" Quick Rope mumbled, "Those bottles of alcohol are killing me …"
A second later, he saw Thales, who was suppressed by Dean on the bed, and he was instantly dumbfounded.
His mouth was even bigger than an egg.
Under the duo's incredulous gazes, Quick Rope quickly covered his eyes!
He stuttered and said in a panicked tone, "Don't worry, I didn't see anything … I mean, you can continue, I swear I won't say anything to Louisa …"
Quick Rope covered his eyes tightly and stepped into the room carefully, as if he was afraid of disturbing something.
He touched a broken cabinet beside the bed. "So where did you put the things …"
The two people who were in a tense confrontation on the bed finally reacted.
They fought to speak!
"Quick Rope, it's not what you see …" Dean frowned as he pressed Quick Rope down. "Wya is very suspicious, I suspect he might be …"
"No, Quick Rope, I'm Prince Thales, he's a Northland spy!" Thales, who was pressed under Quick Rope, said with great difficulty, "Hurry up and find the camp's —"
Dean exerted a little force on the knife in his hand, and Thales' words were stuck in his throat.
Quick Rope covered his eyes and moved slowly to the cabinet.
"Wow, role-playing? Interrogating the prince? "
The mercenary smiled awkwardly. "You guys … sure have a lot of tricks …"
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