In the hall of the manor of the Secret Intelligence Department, Thales stopped in front of a portrait that faced the porch.
"This is Leinster Covendier."
Raphael's voice came from behind him.
The man in the painting was handsome and well-dressed. He was sitting on a red leather chair, playing with a slightly unsheathed dagger in his hand. The exposed blade of the dagger reflected a cold light, and the tip of the dagger was inlaid with gems.
"One of the six knights under the King of Renaissance — Fatal Iris."
Thales seemed to have understood something when he heard the surname and nickname. He looked at the tapestry under the frame.
"Leinster P.T. Covendier, top 27th — 20th"
"Seven hundred years ago, he funded and trained the first batch of professional scouts and spies for Prince Tormond, who had yet to be crowned king. He contributed greatly to the Battle of Eradication and the establishment of Constellation. He was the first Chief of Intelligence of the kingdom."
Raphael stared at the portrait as if he was staring at the real person.
"He was publicly acknowledged as the founder of the kingdom's Secret Intelligence Department."
The painter's Fatal Iris was no more than thirty or forty years old. His expression was focused, but his brows were slightly furrowed. He exuded a gloomy and misty temperament, as if there was endless sorrow in his chest that could not be dispelled.
It made the onlookers pity him.
Leinster Covendier.
The founder of the Secret Intelligence Department.
The prince seemed to be deep in thought.
"He was also the ancestor of the Covendier Family, the first Duke of South Coast Hill?"
"Yes."
Thales nodded and did not say anything else. He followed Raphael's footsteps.
They stepped into the room and onto the starry blue carpet that was commonly seen in the kingdom. The hall of the manor was wide and bright, completely different from the old and deserted manor outside.
Thales looked around.
"It seems bigger than it looks from the outside."
Sunlight shone through the window, illuminating the silver double cross on the wall carpet and hanging flag. It was not as deep and dark as he had expected.
"We have to thank the original owner of this manor. The architectural layout was unique and contained a universe."
Raphael looked straight ahead and did not stop walking.
"Unfortunately, the manor was unlucky during the Bloody Year and was almost burned to ruins.
"Otherwise, it would not have become our headquarters."
A few people in casual clothes were busy in the hall. Some were handling documents, some were whispering to each other, and they turned a blind eye to them.
It was almost no different from a normal municipal department.
Almost.
Raphael led the youth into a side hall.
Whether it was the shape of the corners of the walls, the pillars, the stairs' handrails, or even the ceiling, Thales could tell that this place used to be luxurious, glorious, and historical. However, Raphael's pace was very fast. It was obvious that he was used to this kind of pace. The teenager only had the intention to admire it, but he could only take a cursory glance at it.
Until he saw another classical portrait in a corridor.
[Halva C. M. Karabeyan, 14 — 65]
The man in the painting was almost middle-aged, but there was no twilight between his brows. He had a moustache and even had a faint smile on his lips. He looked simple and sincere.
It was a stark contrast to the shrewd Leinster.
"That's Steward Halva."
Raphael noticed that Thales' footsteps had slowed down. With just a glance, he revealed the identity of the person in the painting.
"Leinster's deputy and successor."
Thales was struck by a thought.
Raphael nodded slowly.
"Thanks to his talent and perseverance, the intelligence network that was originally privately managed by Leinster was not reduced to a flash in the pan after the passing of 'Fatal Iris' due to its poor reputation. Instead, it was officially named the 'Kingdom's Secret Intelligence Department'. It recruited talents and established rules, and it has been passed down to this day."
Thales' gaze shifted to the wall rug under the frame of the painting. There was a sentence embroidered with golden thread on it. The font was simple and unadorned. It was half literate and half white, and it was somewhere between the language of the modern Empire and the lingua franca of the modern era.
"The eyes and ears of the king, the night sentries of the kingdom. It is my duty to know and keep secrets."
Raphael continued.
"Of course, Halva was eventually promoted from the position of Chief of Intelligence. He was promoted and became the Prime Minister of the kingdom, who was second only to one but above all. He was known as the 'Wise Minister'."
"Wise Prime Minister." While Thales recalled Gilbert's history lessons, he repeated this nickname.
"'Wise Minister' Karabeyan?"
His expression was strange.
"I know what you are thinking."
Raphael thought of something and sighed.
"Whenever this nickname and this surname are put together …
"The contrast is huge, isn't it?"
Thales snorted. He immediately suppressed the desire to curl up the corners of his lips. With a stern expression, he continued forward.
Their journey was smooth and quiet. They passed through countless corridors and endless halls. Occasionally, someone would pass by with a stack of scrolls. They would appear from one door and disappear from another. Their footsteps were hurried, and they were busy. When they met the two of them, they would only nod in acknowledgment.
"It seems like there aren't many people on duty?" the prince asked curiously.
"Whether it is because of a certain prince's accident in Western Desert, or because of a certain prince's accident at a banquet, many people have already stayed up for a few days and nights without shifts." Raphael did not care about Thales' pride at all.
"Take pity on them."
Thales could only shrug awkwardly.
"But what are we doing here? Covendier cannot be punished, and you can't do anything about the case. "
Raphael glanced at him. He was about to answer, but a door behind them suddenly opened. A man called out to them.
"Raphael, Ass Ass has finished preparing for the white gloves. Do you want to come and take a look?"
When the man said this, his eyes kept drifting towards Thales. He wanted to bow, but he was hesitant.
Raphael was deep in thought, but Thales frowned.
"He said, Ass Ass?"
Thales approached Raphael suspiciously and asked in a low voice,
"Ass?"
Raphael turned around and spread his hands indifferently, as if he did not see the prince's expression.
"It's a special team under me. I told you the full name."
"Do I need to repeat it?"
Thales forced himself to smile.
Raphael raised his eyebrows understandingly and turned back to walk towards the man. "Very well, Dani. Let us check the procedure. It won't take long.
"By the way, put your eyes in a normal place."
The man at the door immediately stopped sneaking glances at Thales.
Thales was about to follow him in, but was blocked by the Barren Bone man.
"No, I'll be out soon. Wait for me here. Don't move. "
Raphael gave him a pleased smile and closed the door.
Thales, who remained in the corridor, rolled his eyes.
'Hmph, wipe my ass.'
The corridor was still quiet. Thales was bored, so he took a few more steps and looked at the portraits hanging on both sides of the corridor. Most of them were men in their prime to middle-aged, either quiet and serious, or aggressive.
In contrast, one of the special portraits first attracted his attention.
It was a full-body portrait of a woman.
She was lying on her side on the dark sofa in a relaxed posture. Her skin was fair and beautiful, her facial features were deep and intimidating, and her clothes were full of exotic charm. She was not even afraid to show off her slender thighs to show off her sexy and seductive figure. Under the painter's fine brush, even her curled toes looked delicate and lovely.
But unlike her figure that made men's blood boil, the expression on the lady's face was cold and mysterious, as if she did not care about everything around her.
In contrast, when Thales looked at her, he sometimes felt that she was amorous, and sometimes felt that she was noble and inviolable.
Thales shifted his gaze to the bottom of the frame.
[Alf Celdo Ka Mimo Hanbol, 39-77]
"This is Alf."
A slightly rough voice came from behind him, with a Western Desert accent that Thales was familiar with.
"People call her 'Oriental Beauty'. This is one of the few portraits of her that has not been burned."
Thales turned around and was a little shocked when he saw who it was.
"Wait, I recognize you. You are …"
Behind him was a well-groomed man with slightly darker skin. He bowed respectfully to Thales, just like when he was in Blade Fangs Camp.
"I am Norb.
"It is an honor to meet you again, and I am glad that you are now healthy and at ease, Your Highness. Or should I say, the Duke of Star Lake?"
Thales sized him up in surprise and finally confirmed the man's identity.
The cadre of the Secret Intelligence Department who dared to contradict the Legendary Wing in front of thousands of soldiers in Blade Fangs Camp.
'Norb.
But … '
"Why are you here?"
Thales subconsciously shifted his gaze to Norb's right leg.
On the surface, there was nothing unusual, but the prince noticed that Norb held a cane in his right hand and supported half of his body.
Norb smiled faintly and was as humble as ever.
"I came back to report on my work, for … Western Desert."
Thales understood it clearly.
"Is that so?" Thales hesitated for a moment, but in the end, he could not help but ask,
"How … how's your leg?"
Norb froze.
He slowly turned his head and looked at his right leg, then at his cane. A desolate look appeared on his face.
"Thank you for your concern.
"The Secret Intelligence Department has pretty good medicine, but …"
Norb forced a self-deprecating smile and tapped the cane in his right hand.
"I have to learn to get used to this thing."
Thales was silent for a while.
He remembered how Roman rudely broke Norb's right leg in the desert to help him cover up the news. He suddenly felt a little guilty.
"I am very sorry."
Norb shook his head and put away his gloomy mood.
"It is not your fault.
"Besides, if it wasn't for this leg," he said with a smile, "I reckon they would not have let me come back so easily.
"I don't think they'll let me come back so easily. It's a blessing in disguise."
Thales did not know how to respond to his self-deprecating and open-mindedness.
Norb obviously noticed the awkwardness in the atmosphere. He quickly turned to look at the woman in the painting and used the topic of conversation to drive away his momentary depression.
"In short, Elf comes from the Hanbol Dynasty in the Eastern Peninsula. It is said that she is the exiled descendant of Ammar Mimo Hanbol, the Grand Cadile.
'Elf.'
Thales was puzzled.
"So, Elf? She is a foreigner and a woman … also from the Secret Intelligence Department? "
Strangely, Norb first shook his head, then nodded.
"After 'Black Eye' John the First failed in his northern expedition and deposed 'Wise Minister' Halva, the Kingdom's Secret Intelligence Department was not trusted. Its future was uncertain and teetering on the brink of collapse."
Norb looked at the alien woman in the painting. His gaze was profound.
"Until Black Eye decided to give this useless toy to his favorite lover on the bed — like a nominal job, or rather, a gift — as a reason to convince the ministers to keep her by their side."
'The king's lover?'
Thales subconsciously turned his head, wanting to take a closer look at Lady Elf.
In the painting, she still looked indifferent and her posture was natural. She did not care about the gazes of outsiders.
"With contempt and hostility from the inside out, Elf withstood the pressure to fight for the budget, reorganized and preserved this dying department with low morale."
Norb seemed to sigh.
"That's right. In those years, Dongfang Yanying controlled the flow of intelligence and spread the information network widely. She was the head of the Secret Intelligence Department, the Chief of Intelligence."
He was lost in thought.
"And she did the job very well.
"Even too well.
"Therefore, after Black Eye's death, she was sent to the guillotine for the crime of murdering the late king. She was despised by all."
Thales snapped out of his daze.
"What?"
'Murdering the late king?'
Norb smiled and shook his head.
"It's not her. 'Black Eye' is not a person who can force the Ten Great Clans of Eckstedt to let go of their former enmity and unite, to the point where they had no choice but to seek help from the Great Dragon to prevent their country from being destroyed.
Norb leaned on his cane and took a few steps forward. He pointed at the words embroidered in gold below Elf's name.
"'Plans are a bitch. Do not believe them, even if you pay them enough.
"But after Black Eye, his three sons inherited his ambition, but none of them had their father's great talent and bold vision."
"I know this part. It's the end of the first century in the Calendar of Eradication," Thales continued.
"The three stars were divided, brothers were at odds with each other, the land was divided to fight for the throne, and the flames of war reached the heavens."
Norb nodded. His gaze was profound.
"So, when you do not have the corresponding achievements and popularity, yet you want to surpass the other two and wear the Nine-Pointed Star Crown that your father left behind …"
He looked at Elf and said faintly,
"The fastest way is to avenge the late king, and if you want to avenge …"
The prince came to his senses. He raised his gaze in a daze and continued the conversation.
"You have to have a murderer first."
Thales looked at the charming beauty on the wall.
"I've seen this plot before.
"At the same time, she was loved by the late king and feared by everyone. She was a foreign spy who was beautiful and skillful, and a whore." The teenager seemed to have understood something. His voice was low.
"When it comes to murdering the late king, there's no better scapegoat than her."
Norb nodded.
The prince stared at Elf's beautiful figure, imagining the scene of this former foreign beauty with disheveled hair and dirty face, with clothes that did not cover her body, covered in cuts and bruises, shackles and shackles, limping and walking alone to the guillotine under the cold eyes of the conspirators and the curses of thousands of people.
At that moment, her head was probably held high as well.
As if he had guessed Thales' thoughts, Norb took a deep breath and smiled.
"Don't worry. When 'King Taiping' Kessel the First was crowned, the separation of the three stars was ended, and the kingdom was reunited, 'Oriental Beauty' was rehabilitated."
Thales felt relieved.
He looked at Elf's most beautiful appearance and felt the sadness in his heart lighten.
"That's why I can still see her portrait here."
But Norb shook his head in denial.
"Repaint."
Thales turned around in surprise.
"When this painting was completed, Oriental Beauty had already passed away." Norb sighed.
"The people who painted could only rely on a few memories to restore her former glory of walking at the peak of power and ruling the underground world as a woman.
"But you can see, no matter how much they exhausted their talent, or how extravagant their imagination …"
Looking at Elf's seductive curves, Norb shook his head in disappointment.
Thales and Norb were silent for a while.
After a while, Norb reacted.
"Are you waiting for someone?"
"Yes," Thales said, not without resentment.
'Butts.'
The prince looked at the room Raphael had entered and shrugged.
"He … won't be coming out for a while."
"In that case," Norb extended his hand to the next painting in the corridor in a friendly manner,
"You don't mind?"
Thales nodded and followed him forward.
This was much more interesting than Scholar Bonar's grammar class and Raphael's satire.
Norb raised his hand and extended it to the other side.
"Gamble Tabark, known as' Dark Moon '."
Thales turned his head.
[Gamble W. B. Tabark, 137 — 215]
"Tabark? The ruling family of Blade Edge Hill, Blood Moon of Blade City? "
Thales thought of Duchess Lyanna, whom he had not seen for many years.
In the painting, Chief Gamble was a middle-aged man. He was plump and had a noble face. The pitiful thing was that he put all his weight on the cane in front of him. He puffed out his chest and sucked in his stomach with all his might, which made his smile look a little stiff and comical. Coupled with his hairline that looked like he had lost control of the city gate …
In another world, he would probably be "unphotogenic".
"He was the Chief of Intelligence who served three generations of kings at the end of the second century and the beginning of the third century."
Norb nodded.
"From 'Pulse Breaker' Sumer the First to 'Ascension King' Alan the First, and even 'Thorn Cutter' Tormond the Third, the three kings relied on him as their right-hand man and trusted him."
'Ascension King.'
When he heard the familiar name, Thales could not help but compare it to Gilbert's history class. He thought of something and his expression turned slightly cold.
Norb's words were filled with nostalgia.
"Don't judge him by his appearance. People born in our era might find it hard to imagine how great Chief Gamble's contribution to the kingdom was, how significant it was, and how deep his influence was."
"Why?"
Norb exhaled.
"Because in the history books, everyone only saw the king, the prime minister, the generals, and the dukes. They were moved by their foresight and great achievements, but they did not know or turned a blind eye to the filth in the night.
"Because it is also hard for us to imagine how much power and influence Sunset Church once had within the kingdom in the era before Gamble Tabark's reign. It was as big as seizing territories and ruling succession, and as small as weddings and funerals, daily necessities, and daily necessities.
"An order could be changed, and a word could be spoken."
Thales was deep in thought. Norb clicked his tongue and shook his head.
"At that time, the king's scepter was lighter than a bishop's ceremonial robe. The loyalty of the people came from the piety of their prayers, and the gaze of the gods was the fate of the mortal world."
The next moment, Norb raised his head and looked solemnly.
"But from the time Gamble took charge of the Secret Intelligence Department and assisted the king, to the time he gloriously retired from old age in Blade City, half a century had passed …
"Sunset Church's believers split into two major factions, the church and the temple. They fought endlessly, and the internal frictions weakened them.
"They could no longer meddle in the royal family's genealogy of succession, nor could they interfere with the kingdom's policies, let alone dictate the daily lives of the people."
Thales frowned. Priestess Melgen, who talked about the "conflict between the elders and the young" in theology class, appeared in front of him. Hmm, and that nervous little nun.
"In the end, the gods became high and mighty again, illusory, and their believers had no choice but to bow their heads to the Nine-Pointed Astral Crown and gradually withdraw from the center of power in Constellation."
Norb looked at the plain-looking Gamble, and his eyes sparkled.
"During this period, Chief Gamble hid his reputation, but his contributions were great."
'As expected.'
Thales stood in front of Gamble's portrait. 'Do not judge a book by its cover.'
But it was still too early for him to say that.
Because the next portrait Norb pointed at was of a hunchbacked old man with a weathered face.
[William, 226-306]
[Rather than make people fear him, it is better to make people underestimate him.]
"'Hunchback' William," Norb introduced.
The William in the portrait was ordinary and well-behaved. Not only was there nothing outstanding about him, he even looked deformed and ugly because of his hunchback.
"The first Chief of Intelligence who was born a commoner — as you can see, he did not have a surname — from the middle of the third century, he was in charge of the Kingdom's Secret Intelligence Department for fifty years. He was conscientious and diligent."
Norb's walking stick tapped the ground lightly. He looked at William's hunchback and seemed to have the same feeling.
"When people talk about the legend of the Empress Dowager Iron Spike's regent reign, which lasted through seven dynasties, they always overlook this low-key official who was in the same period as her."
Norb spoke to himself. For a moment, he even ignored Thales' existence.
"But it was also William, the Chief of Intelligence who lacked illustrious achievements and a noble reputation. Together with Empress Dowager Iron Spike, he managed to support Constellation during the weakest, darkest, and most dangerous half a century in its history."
Thales lowered his head and remembered the origin of Ballard Room.
"Did I make you feel bored?"
"Of course not." Thales snapped out of his daze and spoke in a standard manner.
"Please continue."
Norb's eyes lit up.
"Ah, I got it. You must be more interested in this senior of the Kingdom's Secret Intelligence Department."
He led Thales forward a few steps, past a few Chief Executives of the Kingdom's Secret Intelligence Department, and stopped next to the most outstanding portrait.
Thales was stunned. Unlike the other portraits, this one was framed in a silver frame, which made it stand out from the rest.
What caught his attention even more was the young woman in the painting.
She was riding on a horse, fully armored, holding the reins and a sword. She looked confident, arrogant, and calm, as if she was going to rush out of the frame the next moment and stab the heart of the viewer with the sword in her hand.
This was the second woman Thales saw in the Kingdom's Secret Intelligence Department besides Elva.
More importantly, Thales squinted at the pattern engraved on the woman's armor and was astounded.
'That's right.
That's …
The Nine-Pointed Star.
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