'Constellation's history has never lacked bloodshed.'
Gilbert's words rang in the teenager's mind again.
"You are reading too much into my words, Your Highness."
Cyril sneered. He took a fist-sized red fruit that Thales could not recognize from the plate and wiped it on his sleeve.
"I mean, as the oldest vassal of Jadestar, Fakenhaz has seen too many similar scenes in the reflection of Sentinel's blade, from the first day to the last.
"So many that we are numb."
The Duke of Western Desert finished speaking. He ignored Thales' suspicious gaze and took a bite of the fruit in his hand in a contented manner.
But Thales still looked at him warily.
"Is that so?"
Cyril's cheeks trembled. He seemed to be enjoying the taste of chewing, but his haggard face and frightening appearance only made his action more frightening.
"Similarly, the truth of the Bloody Year is no longer important. Just like today, sixty years later, will anyone still care about the crisis of your grandfather's coronation?"
Cyril leaned back, but his eyes, which were as lively as a viper's, were fixed on Thales.
He said in a muffled voice,
"What is really important is what the Bloody Year has brought us, and how are we going to face it?"
Thales averted his gaze and tried not to look at the process of the fruit in Cyril's mouth turning from solid to small pieces, and then to powder.
The prince said solemnly,
"I do not like to deliberately mystify things.
I also do not like to beat around the bush. "
Cyril swallowed a mouthful of fruit and snorted.
He used his left elbow to support himself on the arm of the chair and leaned over. His gaze changed, and he became aggressive.
"Then perhaps you are not suited to be a Jadestar."
Thales turned his head slowly and looked at him.
Cyril still maintained his teasing gaze, which was half-genuine, while the prince's expression was calm.
They stared at each other in silence.
There was an indescribable feeling in the air.
A few seconds later, Thales lowered his head slightly and stared at the duke from a strange angle. He said in a low voice,
"My father knows, doesn't he?"
Fakenhaz's right hand, which was playing with half a piece of fruit, froze for a moment.
The light in his eyes slowly faded away.
Thales inhaled softly and said with a serious expression,
"Regardless of whether it was you secretly helping Hymin back then, or him colluding with Shadow Shield, or even what happened that night."
"He knows everything."
The prince used an affirmative sentence.
The smile on Cyril's lips slowly disappeared.
"So what if he knows?" The duke enunciated his words slowly, as though he was approaching his prey.
"So what if I don't know?"
Thales exhaled.
He understood.
"You just threw out those secrets layer by layer, from Hymin to Shadow Shield."
Thales raised his head. His gaze was firm and resolute.
"It's to test me, to see how much I know, and to see how much my father has told me."
Cyril said nothing.
But at that moment, his gaze on the prince became even sharper.
"And the reason you did this …"
Thales did not continue speaking. He only stared at the duke with a burning gaze.
This was to test King Kessel's trust in his heir.
They wanted to test the foundation of the Jadestar Royal Family.
After a long while, Cyril smiled faintly, turned his body sideways, and pointed at Thales.
"As I said, we're talking."
Thales' expression became even more solemn.
The teenager lowered his head and followed the duke's words.
"So, according to what you said …
"Aside from the details and the truth … What did the Bloody Year bring us?"
Cyril smiled.
He did not answer Thales' question directly. Instead, he tilted his head and took another bite of the fruit in his hand.
"I heard that Baron Williams found you first, Your Highness."
He chewed and said in a muffled voice,
"What do you think of him?"
Thales' eyebrows twitched.
'Williams?
What do I think of him? '
Thales' first thought was the scene of the man tying him to the saddle.
The teenager shuddered a little and tried hard to chase the image of him riding a horse with him out of his mind.
"The baron is a …"
But the moment he opened his mouth, he was suddenly at a loss for words.
The Duke of Western Desert did not panic. He waited for Thales' reply with great interest.
Roman's murderous eyes appeared in Thales' mind, along with his unapproachable face when he said, "If you interrupt again, I'll kill you" …
The prince felt suffocated.
'How can I praise a … a person I can't find any good points about against my will?
'Desert God above, I can't possibly praise him as "cute", can I?'
The prince coughed softly and tried his best not to let his expression change too much.
"I think he's very … Ahem … Well, he leads his troops well, commands calmly, and …"
Thales was stuck on the next adjective.
Cyril did not look at him. He only snorted softly and did not comment.
Thales, who had been racking his brains, remembered something and quickly added,
"And … Urk, he's extremely skilled and has an extraordinary appearance?"
'Thank you, Desert God. I've finally found a good point.'
Cyril snorted and nodded. He turned around and spat out the core of the fruit in his mouth.
He tugged at his face, twitched his dented lips, and glanced at Thales with narrowed eyes.
"Alright, I have to admit …"
Even though he was slowly getting used to the duke's face, Thales still felt goosebumps when he was stared at.
Cyril sneered.
"Williams, that guy is indeed better-looking than me …"
He smiled and raised his right hand. His thumb and index finger were very close together. The potholes and ravines on his face looked like they had been flooded.
"Just a little."
Thales stared at Cyril's unique face and tried his best to hold back his awkwardness.
"Oh, is that so …"
When Cyril saw him, he finally could not hold back his laughter.
While the duke laughed, he extended his hand again and scooped up a second piece of fruit from his plate.
"Let's be straightforward. Everyone who has dealt with him knows it."
Cyril scrutinized Thales. His terrifying face exuded a cold chill.
"Roman Williams."
A cold glare shone in Cyril's eyes.
"That is a loner, cold, arrogant, and arrogant …
"Shameless bastard."
'Shameless, bastard?'
Thales resisted the urge to nod. He maintained a slight frown on his face.
But Cyril did not seem to care about his reaction anymore.
The Duke of Western Desert sneered and looked outside the window.
"Admit it. Since the first time he enlisted in the army during the Bloody Year, he has been more annoying than an ignorant and fearless brat, more irritating than a rude and unreasonable bully, more feared than a ruthless hooligan, more hated than an exploitative tax collector, and more disgusting than an arrogant tyrant."
Thales sucked in a breath. He could not help but think of the Legendary Wing's condescending look.
The duke did not care about his demeanor at all. He stared outside the window with a sharp and disdainful gaze. He seemed to have remembered something.
"All those who have dealt with him have suffered at his hands … That damn hot-tempered temper, that condescending look, that damned and hateful habit … He's just short of carving 'I'm a f * cking idiot' on his face."
Thales quirked an eyebrow and listened to Cyril's vulgar words.
"Maybe the baron is just not sociable …"
Duke Fakenhaz snorted coldly.
"Not sociable?"
Cyril took a huge bite out of the fruit in his hand, as if he was not biting food, but an enemy who could not live under the same sky as him.
"Have you ever seen him kill prisoners of war and collect heads on the battlefield? Have you ever seen his indifferent and habitual expression when he wiped off the blood on his face? Do you know that he has never shown mercy when he kills his own people? "
Thales remembered how the man had calmly dug out Stake's eyes and pried off the chin of a dead man's head while blood splattered everywhere. He felt uncomfortable.
Cyril snorted coldly.
"Do you think that the commando team he formed in Stardust Unit is known as the 'Freaks' just because of the few Psionic prisoners he released? No … "
Thales pursed his lips and did not say anything.
The Duke of Western Desert chewed on the fruit in his mouth and shook his head with a cold smile.
"That's because Roman Williams, the Legendary Wing, hides under that beautiful skin of his is someone who does not understand the rules and does not care about benefits. He has neither sympathy nor loyalty. He has a strange temper, an unfathomable personality, is indifferent and cruel, and has strange interests. His way of thinking and logic are different from normal people. He is far from what we can understand, and he is far from what Renaissance Palace can command. He is truly —"
Cyril Fakenhaz's gaze turned cold. He enunciated his words clearly and firmly.
"Freak."
Thales sucked in a deep breath and remembered how the Legendary Wing broke Norb's legs coldly and scornfully called the king a "son of a b * tch".
"Perhaps geniuses always have their own quirks?"
Cyril looked at the half-eaten fruit in his hand and curled his lips.
"Genius?"
The duke raised his head. His gaze was profound.
"Then, I have to say, to promote a freak who is full of vices and sins, and who even the royal family cannot control, place him in the remote Western Desert, place him in the chaotic Western Frontlines, and do our best to provide for his regular army …"
Cyril's back was turned towards Thales. He looked at Blade Fangs Camp under the window, and with a profound expression, he shook his head and clicked his tongue.
"Your father is probably also a …"
"Genius."
Thales frowned.
He could not tell whether this was a sincere compliment, a bitter sarcasm, or a combination of both.
But the prince understood a lot.
Thales shook his head firmly.
"It's useless.
As I said, I can't do anything about what has already been decided. You can't take back Blade Fangs Camp from me, and you can't take back what you lost from my father. "
He had an indifferent expression on his face, as if he was a thousand miles away from others.
"And you should leave. This is my meal time, and I'm not used to sharing it with others."
But against Thales' expectations, in the face of his obvious and resolute refusal, Cyril did not retort with a negative attitude, nor did he use his usual tone to mock and ridicule him.
The duke's expression relaxed. He did not smile, nor did he speak sarcastically. He just sat up straight and looked out the window quietly.
"Blade Fangs Camp? What we lost?
Your Highness, have you ever seen the former Western Desert? "
He stared at the bustling crowd under the window.
Thales looked at Cyril's side profile and suddenly felt that Duke Fakenhaz was a little absent-minded at that moment.
"The former?"
The duke snorted. He seemed to have remembered something, but he shook his head slightly.
"Do you know, eighteen years ago, when I had just become the duke, I received the General Edict of Constellation and rushed to Eternal Star City without stopping to listen to your grandfather's call to quell the rebellion with eighteen other people?
"I never thought that Western Desert, which gave birth to me and raised me, would be the next."
Thales' expression changed, and he sank into deep thought.
'Eighteen years ago.
General Edict of Constellation.
Call to quell the rebellion.
'But …'
The prince raised his head and asked in puzzlement,
"Next?"
But Thales' vision immediately blurred. He instinctively wrapped his arms around his chest and caught the piece of bread the Duke of Western Desert threw at him.
'White bread?'
Thales watched in astonishment as Cyril calmly withdrew his left hand and stuffed another piece of fruit into his mouth.
"Eighteen years have passed. Very few youngsters nowadays know that before the war of the Bloody Year, before the Legendary Wing appeared, when the Guardian Duke of Western Desert was still my uncle …"
The Duke of Western Desert bit on the fruit and said languidly,
"What was Western Desert like?"
Thales pursed his lips and furrowed his eyebrows. He looked at the duke, who was obviously reluctant to leave. He opened his mouth in exasperation and resignation and bit into the soft and exquisite white bread.
"At that time, the ruler of this place, the Baron of Blade Fangs Bar, Garrett Luhmann, was an important vassal and guest of my uncle. He often went to the Ruins of Wastelands and could be said to have grown up with me. We were like brothers."
The duke smiled as he watched the teenager pull his face out of the bread in displeasure, but his gaze gradually froze.
"At that time, we enjoyed a rare peace with the Great Desert."
'Peace?'
Thales, who was trying his best to tear the bread apart, paused.
Fakenhaz spoke slowly.
"If we don't go in, they — whether it's the eight great tribes of the orcs or the five great tribes of the Barren Bone people — won't come."
"Our patrols and taxes follow the rules, and their plundering and herding have their own rules. They look at each other from afar, stay vigilant in silence, live their own lives, mind their own business, be fair, tacit, and natural."
"He allowed countless traveling merchants, herdsmen, mercenaries, and adventurers to freely enter and leave the desert. He allowed them to interact with desert bandits, exiles, orcs, Barren Bone people, and even those who came from the other side of the desert. They traded, competed, fought, clashed, and merged with each other.
"Writing their own stories."
While Thales chewed on the bread, he frowned and thought of Tampa, the owner of My Home.
He remembered the history of Blade Fangs Camp that he once told him.
It was the age of mercenaries.
By the way, what happened to Tampa?
"At that time, there were even desert residents who longed for civilization who migrated to the Western Desert. When I reached the age of riding a warhorse and started patrolling the desert, I could still often see Barren Breeds coming and going at the borders.
"If you are courageous enough to step into the desert with the caravan, you will have a chance to see the face of the enemy of mankind. It is not strange to see the merchants haggling with the seemingly ferocious gray mixed breeds while pointing fingers at them and pointing fingers at them, causing their faces to turn red."
The duke's voice was different from his usual shrill and piercing voice. It became calm and smooth. There was a slight tremor in his breathing, as if he was trying his best to endure something.
'Barren Breeds.
Gray Mixed Breeds. '
Thales first thought of Mickey, the Barren Bone man from Dante's Greatsword, then Raphael, who had dark red eyes.
And … the extraordinary orc who gave him his coming-of-age 'name' — Kandarll Nushan.
"There are even merchant groups who set up fixed trading days in the Great Desert, just like the markets in our countryside. It is said that there are even merchant groups who found a magical trade route that is said to connect countless oases to the depths of the desert. They can even reach the Golden Passage, which proves that the area of the Great Desert is not smaller than the Constellation that we are so proud of."
There was an indescribable smile in Cyril's words, as well as a reluctance to part.
"Have you heard of the bardic poems of the Three Heroes of Dawn who seek dragons in the desert? Have you heard of the story of Caligri, the desert city where countless treasures are gathered? Have you heard of the legend of the ancient battlefield in the Desert of God of War from the Barren Bone people? Have you heard of the terrifying story of the evil god who hides under the yellow sand devouring everything in the world? Have you heard of the legend of the Empire's countless treasures buried deep in the desert?
"At that time, they were all exciting stories that originated from the mysterious Great Desert. Countless people set out from here, entered the desert, and brought them out. They brought them back to the Western Desert, brought them back to Constellation, and became legends that were passed down through the ages.
Bardic poems, stories, legends.
The former desert and Western Desert.
Thales listened quietly. For a moment, he even forgot to eat his bread.
The duke sighed.
"The people of the Western Desert and the residents of the desert are like this. We are wary of each other, but we also need each other. Sometimes, there are conflicts, but sometimes, we cooperate. We maintain the strange but interesting ecology, enriching this land that has been dry for a thousand years."
The room was quiet for a few seconds.
"In the desert, there is an old saying among the people who worship, or rather, fear, the Desert God."
Fakenhaz said airily,
"The Desert God has no disasters, but the world has disasters."
Thales' eyebrows twitched. He instinctively followed suit.
"The Desert God is merciful, and the desert shall be pardoned."
Cyril's eyes lit up. He seemed to be surprised that Thales knew this saying.
"So, you already know."
The duke smiled softly.
"If the Desert God did not have to take the initiative to send disasters, the mortal world would have long been filled with disasters.
"There is no need for the Desert God to personally pardon us. The existence of the Great Desert is already its greatest tolerance."
Cyril's face showed a look of lament.
"Do you feel it? The Desert God reflected in this saying is neutral, detached, indifferent, and sees through all things, just like the Great Desert itself. "
Thales did not speak. He only remembered the warning the Barren Bone man, Raphael, gave him before he left Dragon Clouds City.
But at that time, the Barren Bone man explained the meaning of this saying to him.
'There is danger everywhere in the terrifying desert.
'The weak fear disaster, and the lucky seek forgiveness.
'"Only those who abandon weakness and luck at the same time can find a foothold in the merciless Great Desert."'
But in comparison, Duke Cyril's explanation for this proverb that sent chills down people's spines seemed so …
'Balance?
Impartiality? '
The duke continued to speak. It sounded a little erratic in the narrow and bright room at the top of the tower, which was invaded by the cold wind.
"If the outside world is in endless chaos and disasters, it is fine. Because no matter what kind of disaster it is, when it reaches the desert, it will be buried by the endless sun and the sandstorms that have lasted for a thousand years.
"If the outside world is peaceful and luxurious, it is fine. The daily conflicts, bloodshed, and cruel ecology in the Great Desert will allow you to learn everything you need to survive. "
The Duke of Western Desert narrowed his eyes.
"It is not comfortable, because its tolerance is only one side of it.
"But it is not scary, because its cruelty is just right."
While Thales was deep in thought, Cyril threw away the fruit core in his hand. His eyes shone with a sharp light.
"Let the world be flooded.
"Only the desert remains cold and warm."
The duke exhaled a long breath and turned to look at Thales. He seemed to have regained his senses.
Thales quickly lowered his head and pretended to be unbothered. He continued to deal with his bread.
But Cyril was not bothered.
"When I was young, I stood in Western Desert, on the land passed down by my ancestors, and faced the endless horizon of the Great Desert. This is what it told me.
That is my memory of Western Desert, the place where I was born and raised. "
But in the next second, the Duke of Western Desert's tone changed.
"But …"
Cyril's eyes shone with coldness, and Thales could not help but frown.
"Look at me now."
At that moment, Thales felt a sense of heaviness and stagnation, as if it had gained physical form.
The duke's voice became sharp and ear-piercing again, and it made people instinctively want to cover their ears.
"After the Bloody Year, the royal family took control of Blade Fangs Camp and turned this place into a purely military stronghold. It followed rules that were completely different from those in Western Desert and the desert. There was no fairness, no tacit understanding, and every time the regular army gloriously attacked the desert, the situation became worse."
Thales frowned slightly and remembered the conflict between the regular army and the recruited soldiers.
"The desert that used to be a wilderness has become a dangerous war zone. The number of merchants has dwindled, the mercenaries are no longer glorious, and the Barren Species have disappeared from the border. The once noisy and lively border has become filled with danger and dead silence. All the rules have been destroyed, leaving only chaos and blood."
Thales remembered the tavern owner Tampa's lament about the bad market.
"As for the orcs and Barren Bone people in the desert, once they appear, they will be in groups, armed to the teeth, and leave no one alive. Endless alarms, endless rebellions, and endless lines of defense have left us, who are truly from the Western Desert, in a terrible state."
Duke Fakenhaz snorted coldly.
"Only the Legendary Wing's crimson Stardust Flag flutters high in the sky every time he patrols the desert, leaving behind the glory of the royal family and the blood of the Western Desert. The grudge between the eight tribes and the five tribes only deepens." "The Legendary Wing's crimson Stardust Flag.
Thales swallowed the last mouthful of bread and did not make a sound.
He had a premonition.
"What did the Bloody Year bring?"
Cyril's voice suddenly rose.
"I do not know."
The duke's cold and sharp voice, coupled with his terrifying appearance, made people's hearts palpitate.
"There is only one thing I know. After the Bloody Year, after Herman's death, and after the war broke out, the land of Western Desert during these eighteen years …"
He enunciated his words clearly and firmly.
"What did it become."
* Thud! *
Even though he watched the duke push his chair and stand up, Thales was still shocked by the sound of the cane hitting the ground.
* Thud, thud, thud. *
The cane hit the ground again and again, pushing the Duke of Western Desert closer. He was not tall, but there was a certain coldness about him.
It sent chills down his spine.
Then, he stopped in front of Thales.
"Now, Your Highness." Cyril Fakenhaz looked at him coldly. There was an inescapable look in his eyes.
"It is now your turn to tell me that the Bloody Year brought to us, to Western Desert, and to the people who have lived on this land for generations …
"What did it bring?"
Thales tried hard to swallow.
This was the first time he felt that even the Duke of Western Desert, who had an ugly face, was handicapped, and was used to making sarcastic and humorous remarks, had such a terrifying side to him.
"I do not understand."
The prince suppressed the guesses in his heart and answered with great difficulty.
"You do not understand?"
Cyril snorted, but he did not have the relaxed and humorous air he had before.
"Or do you not want to understand?"
His withered face was like a skeleton that had been dried out for a long time. Bone-Chilling wind shone from his deep eye sockets.
Thales was about to speak, but the duke did not give him the chance.
"The reason for the Bloody Year and everything we are facing is because there is a monster there."
The Duke of Western Desert said coldly.
'What?'
Thales frowned in confusion.
"Monster?"
* Thud! *
Cyril struck the ground with his cane.
"Yes!"
His tone allowed no room for doubt, but there was a hint of deep hatred in it.
"That is a monster. A monster who feeds on power, lives, and lives by destroying."
The duke had his back to the light, and the wrinkles on his face were incredibly ghastly. His leather robe fluttered and trembled in the cold wind in the tower.
"It, Thales, is hidden in the deepest part of Renaissance Palace. It is hidden in the crown of the supreme king, in the mausoleum where your ancestors rest in peace, and in the heart of every Jadestar who has the right to inherit the throne."
Thales blinked and slowly understood what he meant.
This was a metaphor.
"Every time it wakes up in a person's heart and stretches out its claws, it will bring about a terrifying vortex that tries to suck in everything in the kingdom, crush it, corrode it, and devour it.
"Thanks to it, Western Desert … No, not just Western Desert, but everything that once belonged to Constellation is collapsing, being destroyed, dying, and no longer existing."
In the tower, the Duke of Western Desert, Cyril Fakenhaz pointed at Prince Thales, who had a solemn expression and was on full alert.
"And someone has to …
"Do something."
(End of this chapter)
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