Why? "
Raphael's expression was unpleasant as he responded coldly.
"There is no why." Thales stood in front of the portrait of 'Lone Sail' Noah Amund, gritted his teeth and looked up.
"I want to see him."
Raphael shook his head.
"I don't think …"
"I know he's here," Thales interrupted him. While he tried to reorganize his thoughts, he insisted firmly, "I know he's here.
"After the banquet, he was escorted here."
In the corridor of the Secret Intelligence Department, under the gaze of the Chief of Intelligence of the past generations, Raphael stared at Thales.
"What are you going to do?"
"Nothing much."
Thales calmed himself down and made up his mind.
"But he is one of the messes I left behind.
"I have to see him.
"Immediately."
Raphael could not help but frown as he looked at Thales' determined expression.
"I can't decide. I need to consult His Lordship first. Tomorrow —"
"You've been evading me for the whole day," Thales interrupted him mercilessly.
"For the sake of the past, you should at least be of some use, right?"
Raphael pursed his lips.
But at that moment …
"If you really want to see him, Your Highness, it is not impossible."
Both of them turned their heads.
The one who spoke was a familiar man with a walking stick.
He stood respectfully and humbly under the portrait of 'The Pale Baron' Sancho Doyle.
"Norb?"
Raphael looked at the man in surprise.
"What are you doing here?"
As the highest person in charge of the Kingdom's Secret Intelligence Department in Western Desert, Norb did not answer. He only looked at Thales quietly.
The prince glanced at Raphael and turned towards Norb.
"Are you serious, Norb?"
"Can you really bring me to see him? Anker Byrael? "
Norb nodded and bowed respectfully, "I have the authority."
"Please follow me."
Thales exhaled and stepped forward.
"Wait a minute." Raphael pressed on Thales' shoulder with a gloomy expression.
"Norb, this is none of your business."
"Don't interfere with my case."
Thales said discontentedly,
"Hey …"
But Norb tapped his walking stick, signaling the prince not to be anxious.
"Listen to me, Raphael."
Norb said patiently,
"Anker Byrael is a Western Desert nobleman. In this case, I think my long-term experience of lurking in Western Desert can help …"
"I don't need it," Raphael refused.
But this time, Norb didn't back down.
"But the Lord needs it."
The person in charge of intelligence from the West Wilderness said calmly,
"In fact, he has already assigned me the interrogation and investigation of Anker Byrael before he is transferred to the court of justice."
Raphael was instantly stunned.
"When?"
"Just now," Norb said calmly.
"And I think that letting Your Highness meet him may help the progress of the case."
At that moment, Raphael frowned at Norb, who looked back at the Barren Bone man nonchalantly.
The two men from the Secret Intelligence Department exchanged glances in the air.
"Your Highness." Norbwinhe gestured with his hand.
"Shall we go?"
Thales glanced at Raphael and took a resolute step forward.
"Seriously …"
As he walked past the Barren Bone man, Thales cast a displeased glance at Raphael.
"What do I need you for? Cohen Karabeyan? "
Raphael stood rooted to the ground. His expression seemed to have sunk into an icehouse.
Norb smiled faintly and turned to lead the way.
"If you're worried, Raphael, you're welcome to accompany us."
He became friendly and humble again.
Raphael said nothing and remained expressionless.
The figures of the prince and Norb gradually disappeared into the distance.
The Barren Bone man looked coldly at the portrait of 'Black Messenger' Mason Jonveled. A few seconds later, he strode forward and quickly caught up with them.
Thales quickly realized that the place he was going to was not simple.
They took many turns, and in an inconspicuous corner, they set foot on a stone staircase that sunk into the ground.
Unlike the desolation on the surface, the underground corridors of the Secret Intelligence Department were heavily guarded and heavily locked. He had already encountered several groups of police Ludo dogs used for sniffing. Even with Raphael and Norb clearing the way, Thales still felt that his progress was slow and that it was difficult for him to move forward.
"It's a necessary security check," Norb explained patiently as he was inspected by a guard.
"Especially since you're here. This is even more important."
Thales forced a smile and glared at a Ludo that was sniffing at him until it whimpered and backed away.
When the guards pulled open a heavy iron gate and brought them into another damp and foul-smelling corridor, there was a commotion in the darkness on both sides.
"This point again — can't you leave some leeway for people who want to sleep?! What, we've lost the fortress, lost the Northern Territory, and now even my dignity as a diplomat?! "
"Your Highness! Your Highness Midier! Y-your legs have recovered? That's great! I knew that those despicable people wouldn't succeed in their scheme to usurp the throne … No, Your Highness, you must stop His Majesty. He can't marry that woman …
"He's here, with the ravings of the devil, he's here, with the conspiracy of the gods, he's here, with the cruelest fate in the world …
"They must have been hiding for a long time. They've been in cahoots with the rebel army. They even wanted to instigate the duke to make him their king, invade Eternal Star City, and change the dynasty! All of them, yes, all of them must have colluded together to murder the duke! Starlight, starlight, long live the starlight. Someone, someone must pay the price …
"Damn bastards! I knew there was something wrong with the battle at the altar! Bullsh * t conquerors of the Desert God's Altar! Bullsh * t!
"Listen to me, it's Sylvia, Princess Sylvia, it must be her! She has relatives in Vine City, the people there specialize in making herbs, they know this the best … And those profiteers from Fragrance Merchant Group, they've always been dissatisfied with Prince Banker's policies, they colluded with Blood Bottle Gang to stir up trouble … "
In the darkness, the figures in the cells on both sides could not be seen clearly, but the screams and cries mixed together, making Thales feel uneasy.
"This is a special cell of the Secret Intelligence Department. It's a little dark and complicated." Norb turned a deaf ear to Thales, his expression unchanged.
"Please forgive us."
Thales coughed softly. "These people …"
"They were convicted by the court a long time ago," Raphael took over the conversation.
"They should have been imprisoned for life in the Prison of Bones.
"But some people have special identities, some still have some value, and some are not suitable to serve their sentences in places other than the Kingdom's Secret Intelligence Department."
Norb sighed.
"In Blade Fangs Camp, if Stake did not die, he should be here now."
Raphael glared at him.
"As you can see, many people are abnormal. They have ulterior motives, and naturally, their willpower is not strong."
Norb shook his head.
"They are just immersed in the past, unable to extricate themselves."
Raphael's gaze on him became even more hostile.
'Immersed in the past.'
Thales' expression darkened slightly. The magical journey known as the Black Track in the mountainside of Dragon Clouds City appeared in his mind.
Norb sighed.
"I still remember what Lord Hansen told everyone: being able to forget is the greatest happiness."
Raphael snorted softly.
"Why don't I remember? When did he say that?"
Norb twitched the corner of his mouth.
"Thirty years ago."
'Thirty years ago.'
Raphael immediately fell silent.
Thales could not help but ask,
"How old are you this year?"
Norb nodded respectfully amid the endless cries.
"Forty-two."
Thales pursed his lips and did not say anything.
They passed through another iron gate and shut the cries behind them.
What appeared in front of them were sealed cells with iron doors and thick locks. There was only a small hatch on each door that led to the outside world.
Here, Thales was stopped.
"I knew you would come." A faint, deep voice came from behind one of the cells. Thales felt like he had heard it before.
"I just didn't expect it to be so soon."
The prince frowned and turned around. A weathered face appeared at the hatch.
"By the way, boy, last night's wine was terrible." It was a man with a sloppy face but unwavering determination. He held the iron bar on the hatch and glared at Thales.
"I've been hungover ever since."
Raphael and Norb looked at each other. They wanted to say something, but did not.
Thales was silent for a while before he snorted coldly.
"Of course not as good as the wine here."
"Sir Arunde."
The prince continued forward, leaving Val Arunde behind.
Norb followed closely behind.
"I told you, he will be a big problem." The imprisoned Guardian Duke of the Northern Territory stared at Thales' figure quietly.
"He is older than you, little Barren Breed."
When he heard this form of address, Raphael, who was the last to leave, stopped and looked at Val behind the iron door with a complicated gaze.
"Eat more in the future, Your Grace."
Raphael stared at him for a while before he slowly said,
"Don't just drink."
Once he finished speaking, the Barren Bone man turned around and left.
"Wait."
Raphael turned around.
Val pressed his elbow against the iron door. After a few seconds of silence, he slowly passed a folded letter out of the hatch.
Raphael frowned.
"You know, she won't reply to your letter."
Val's gaze dimmed.
"I know."
The duke's gaze fell on Raphael's hands.
The latter subconsciously put his hands behind his back.
"But at least, you can see her once, child," Val said absentmindedly.
Raphael looked at him for a long time before he finally sighed.
He walked to the hatch, took the letter, and put it away carefully.
"Alright."
Val forced a smile.
"Thank you."
But in the next second, the Barren Bone man's expression returned to indifference.
"But we will only use messenger crows."
Once he finished speaking, Raphael roughly closed the hatch.
He shut Val's face in the darkness.
Under Norb's guidance, Thales finally arrived at his destination: a spacious room.
"There was a young girl, beautiful and kind, fate was not good, she lost her mother at a young age …"
But before they could step into the room, they heard an awful ballad.
"Here came an old pervert, drunk and groping the bed. The girl's eyes turned, there was meat soup on the stove …"
The song came from a man. He sounded smug and interested.
"That was my subordinate," Norb apologized to the prince awkwardly.
"I asked him to scout out the place first."
Thales nodded. They entered the room amidst the man's humming ballad.
The place was dark, damp, and depressing.
The first things that entered his sight were all sorts of terrifying machines.
Torture racks, head crushers, stretching wheels, skinning beds, spiked chairs, blood cradles … These were just the ones that Thales could recognize. When he was young, there were similar places in the Black Gold Casino beside Black Street. As for the ones that he could not name, there were even more small tools and gadgets placed on carts.
Thales' heart sank.
The figure of a fat man appeared in the middle of the room. His back was to the door, his upper body bare, wearing an apron, gloves, and a hood. He hummed a song and shook his shoulders as he rhythmically arranged the various tools on the cart.
"Wrapping an egg with a pair of tongs, twisting and turning, the pervert wakes up and cries in pain, the girl spins with a smile: Just treat it like a skewer, turning it nine and a half times, pressing the knife against the stick, the tip of the knife in, peeling the skin and opening it up to carve a small funnel …"
Anker Byrael, the criminal who trespassed on the royal banquet, was lying motionless on the recliner in the middle, naked, with his eyes closed.
He had obviously lost consciousness. His limbs were bound, and his body was covered with cuts and bruises. Only his lower body was covered with a thin, bloodstained blanket.
Thales looked at the bloodstains on the recliner under him and his heart tightened.
Perhaps it was the soundproofing effect of the hood, but the humming fat man did not notice the movement behind him.
He held a hammer in one hand and a pair of tongs in the other. He twisted his buttocks, swung his waist, and danced wildly while singing.
"The pervert cried: Girl, don't mess around, you were in a good mood last night, why are you so violent tonight? The girl smiled, you're mistaken, I'm a flesh-eater, I didn't eat much tonight, how's the broth in the girl's pot? "
In the bloody, terrifying, dark, and sinister torture chamber, this fat man swinging his fat and dancing passionately was such a refreshing sight that Norb could not help but cough awkwardly.
"Gomez."
The fat man did not seem to hear him. He continued to move his buttocks, swinging his waist, and the hammer seductively brushed past his buttocks that were facing the three of them.
Norb had to increase his volume.
"Gomez!"
With two clangs, the hammer and tongs fell to the ground.
The fat man froze in place, maintaining his posture of stroking his buttocks. The song stopped.
The room fell silent.
The fat man named Gomez trembled as he took off his hood and stumbled around. He was the first to see Thales and was startled.
"Wow!"
Gomez breathed a sigh of relief. He wiped away the sweat on his face from his vigorous dance.
"Where did you come from, little brat? Don't you know it's wrong to scare people like this … "
Norb appeared from the darkness.
"Gomez.
"This is Prince Thales."
Gomez froze again.
A few seconds later.
"Ah, Norb, you're early. You're dressed well today! I was, um, warming up. Hehe, warming up. "The fat man first begged for mercy, but when he realized what Norb said, his expression changed.
"Ah? Did you say, Your, Your Highness? "
He glared at the expressionless Thales and sized him up several times.
"Ah ah ah — Your Highness Thales!"
Gomez immediately put on a fawning expression. He tried to use the apron on his body to cover the fat on his chest. He was so excited that he spoke incoherently.
"I'm the one from Western Desert, that, that! Do you remember … that! "
Unfortunately, his naked, ferocious, sweaty, and bloodstained appearance reduced his fawning effect by half.
Thales had no choice but to smile at him.
"Wake up the prisoner." Norb felt humiliated and helplessly covered his face.
Gomez smiled obsequiously and said, "Alright." He turned around and picked up a pair of bloody tongs before walking excitedly towards Anker, who was lying on the recliner.
Thales' expression changed.
"Wait a minute."
Norb stopped him in time and glanced at Thales.
"Be friendly."
Gomez lowered his head in embarrassment, dropped the tongs, changed a bucket of cold water, and splashed it on Anker.
"Cough cough, Tina, cough cough cough —"
Anker, who was lying on the recliner, was splashed with cold water. He struggled up from the recliner agitatedly, as if he had just woken up from a nightmare.
"Tina … cough cough …"
He coughed out the water in his mouth in pain and looked around weakly. It was only when he saw the bandages on his hands and feet that he realized he was still in a nightmare.
"Didn't we agree to rest for a quarter of an hour …"
Anker fell weakly back onto the recliner, barely breathing.
"It's the middle of the night, I'm not tired … You guys … Aren't you tired too …"
Thales looked at his bloody fingernails, bruised and bruised joints, and his eyes that were gradually losing focus. He found it difficult to breathe.
"Hey, bro, wake up!"
Gomez slapped Anker's face hard and opened his closed eyelids.
"Someone's here to see you!"
Thales let out an indescribable sigh and walked up to Byrael.
"Anker Byrael.
"It's me."
Anker's unfocused eyes were confused for a moment, then gradually focused.
"Your Highness?"
He struggled to lift his upper body and saw the young man in front of him.
"Prince Thales?"
Anker's breathing quickened and his chest rose and fell. He squeezed out a weak smile.
"How have you been today?"
He trembled all over. The blanket that had slid off was covered in blood. Occasionally, it tugged at his wounds, causing him to moan in pain and sweat.
Thales held back his nausea, helped Anker pull the blanket back up and gestured for him to lie back down.
"I want to talk to him alone," the prince said to the person behind him.
"Now."
Raphael and Norb looked at each other.
Norb signaled Gomez with his eyes, and the latter reluctantly took out a Western Desert Army-style waterskin.
"Open your mouth, bro."
Gomez put the waterskin next to Anker's mouth.
"This is the Chaka wine that I specially mixed. It's a medical analgesic to make you feel better — damn it, don't drink too much, it's expensive!"
Under Gomez's pained shouts, Anker loosened the waterskin's mouth, collapsed on the recliner, and laughed out loud.
Raphael was about to say something, but Norb patted him on the shoulder and pulled the aggrieved Gomez along.
The three of them left the torture chamber.
Only Thales and Anker were left behind.
"It's useless, Your Highness."
Anker, whose limbs were bound, struggled to turn his head, his words stuttering.
His words were intermittent, "This is the Kingdom's Secret Intelligence Department. Once you leave, they will … come again, and force me to repeat what I told you."
Thales looked at the tortured Anker, trying not to look at the wounds on his body.
"I know." The young man felt stifled.
"I just want you to feel more at ease."
Anker stared at him quietly and flashed a tired smile.
"You are a good man, Your Highness.
"But, as kind and generous as you, have you found a way not to be a pawn?"
Thales paused, his eyes rippling.
[What's the difference between you and him?]
The last words he said to Anker at the royal banquet replayed in his ears.
"I just, just understand … the other pawns."
This man …
He chose to believe me, so he let go of the sword.
And what can I do for him?
Recalling his experience in Ballard Room, Thales pursed his lips, wanting to speak but hesitating.
"I understand."
Seeing the prince's expression, Anker panted as if he understood something, "I'm sorry to have troubled you.
"Whether it was yesterday or now."
Thales took a deep breath and forced himself to put away his negative emotions.
"No, the case is still under trial. There's still a chance."
Anker leaned back in his chair, gritting his teeth in a muffled grunt.
"No need to comfort me, Your Highness.
"The Byrael family has long since gone bankrupt and has nothing to show for it."
He smiled bitterly.
"And I've studied the kingdom's laws before I came here …
"Armed assassination against the royal family is punishable by death. What's more, my actions have incited discord between Western Desert and the royal family, alienated the Seven Attendants and Renaissance Palace, alienated you and His Majesty, and even involved many unspeakable secrets in the Land Measurement Order. It's extremely tricky and a headache.
"All stakeholders will be happy to add insult to injury."
Anker stared straight at the ceiling, his gaze unfocused in the dim light.
"I'm hopeless."
Thales draped his recliner, or torture chair, and gritted his teeth.
"Not necessarily."
The Duke of Star Lake recalled the Black Prophet's words and forced himself to smile.
"I can think of a way to offend the royal family.
"As for the rest, I can 'communicate' with Baron Doyle and persuade him to be kind."
The prince tried to piece together the words he had thought of to make them more beautiful, or at least less feeble.
"As long as both sides agree, the debts between your families can be settled. As for the land dispute between Crow Caw City and Mirror River … "
"No, Your Highness."
Anker interrupted him.
The young Western Desert noble forced a bitter smile, looked at Thales gently but hopelessly, and shook his head weakly but decisively.
"We all know very well that this is no longer a problem between Crow Caw City and Mirror River."
Thales' words came to a halt, and he could not continue.
"Your Highness, do you know the situation in Western Desert now?"
On the recliner, Anker looked at the prince silently, but his gaze was distant, as if he was gazing into the distance from the other side of Hell's River.
"After the Desert War, Blade Fangs Dune and the regular army of the royal family were like a sharp knife, stabbing straight into the heart of Western Desert.
"With the military control of the Western Frontline, they kept the selfish, xenophobic, conservative, and divided Western Desert dukes in check, and became the best reason for Renaissance Palace to implement the royal government in Western Desert: 'Land Measurement Order' and 'Border County Development Order', which made the suzerains gnash their teeth in frustration."
Thales could not help but frown.
He thought of Blessings Town, and the Count of Wing Fort, Derek Kroma, who told him about Western Desert's predicament on the way back to Eternal Star City from Western Desert.
"That's right. In order to save my father's mess and find a turning point for the family and a loophole in the contract, I read all the official documents and decrees between the Western Desert and the Central Territory in the past ten years. I can almost recite them backwards."
Anker's face was flushed, and he smiled at him.
His breathing was much more even, and he no longer groaned and moaned. The pauses between his sentences also lessened.
It seemed that Gomez's wine was taking effect.
"But ten years have passed, and the cunning, realistic, passive, and mischievous dukes of Western Desert have found the most shameless way to deal with it."
The most shameless way to deal with it?
Thales was stunned.
Anker's spirits improved slightly. He thought hard, and he was no longer dispirited.
"On one hand, they claim to be insincere, so that the military in Blade Fangs Camp becomes the norm. On the other hand, they deliberately fan the flames, so that the lower-ranked nobles are filled with resentment.
"Over time, without the royal decree, the wartime control order has no legitimacy. Without the help of the kingdom's regular army, it is difficult to carry out government decrees. If the envoy from Renaissance Palace is not the Legendary Wing himself, no one will respect him.
"And the conflict between my family and Doyle is getting deeper and deeper, and it is difficult to resolve …"
Anker's gaze gradually focused. He persisted in speaking, as if realizing that this was the rest of his short life.
"This has instead turned the desert frontline into a protective talisman for the dukes of Western Desert. They want to slowly get used to this knife, assimilate this knife, and at the same time, make it the king's brilliant plan and impediment. Just like how my father shamelessly carries a huge debt, and the creditors can do nothing about it. Hahaha …"
Insincere, fanning the flames, shameless …
Thales took a deep breath.
He recalled what Gilbert had told him about the 'divided Western Desert'.
However, Anker's tone changed.
"So, this sharp knife stuck in the heart of Western Desert exceeded the expectations of both parties, and entered the most awkward tug-of-war."
Anker took a deep breath, cherishing the few moments where the alcohol allowed him to ignore pain.
"The people of Western Desert are in pain: this sharp knife is stuck in their vitals, and has always been the most hated thorn in their flesh, but they still have to endure the pain and try to assimilate it into their limbs and protective talisman.
"Renaissance Palace is tired: the hand that holds the knife expends a lot of energy, but it does not know whether to stab or pull it out. It is immobile, and it is difficult to advance or retreat: if we advance, we will cause a huge mess, and the losses outweigh the gains; if we retreat, all our previous efforts will be in vain."
Thales' gaze changed.
At that moment, he seemed to see a black and white chessboard.
On one end was his father's magnificent and noble Staff of Constellation. On the other end was the inconspicuous wooden cane in Fakenhaz's hand.
"Both sides are waiting, and waiting, waiting for an opportunity.
"Perhaps it is a foreign war, a crisis, a major event. The people of Western Desert are waiting for a turning point in the situation, while Renaissance Palace is waiting for a further opportunity. "
Thales nodded and wiped away the bloodstains that obscured Anker's vision.
"I know: for example, my return to the country, the ownership of Blade Fangs Camp, the invasion of the Barren and mixed breeds. Both sides are going back and forth, dealing with each other as they see fit.
"For example …"
Thales did not continue, but looked at Anker quietly.
Anker forced a smile and nodded weakly.
"And I realized that the Byrael family, who had nowhere else to go, wanted to save themselves, and the only way was to seize this opportunity.
"Let my family's case climb to the heart of the struggle, and hitch a ride on this carriage that is the center of attention."
Thales lowered his head and sighed.
"So I had to die. It would be best if I died at a banquet, in a duel, like a hero, to leave a protective talisman for my family, to protect my property, land, and title."
Anker straightened his upper body, ignoring the open wound.
His breathing quickened, and his voice became sharper, as if he had returned to yesterday's battle.
"Until …
"Until you …"
Anker stared blankly at the prince, helpless and at a loss, with a plea that he himself was not aware of.
Thales' hand on the recliner shook slightly.
"So …"
Anker realized something. He lay back on the chair and fell silent.
"No one can save me, Your Highness.
"Not even you.
"You."
Thales was stunned and speechless.
He was right.
He could not save him.
He could not even face his father's interrogation in Ballard Room.
There was a moment of silence in the torture chamber.
"I'm sorry," Thales said with difficulty, feeling that his tone was dry, dry, and meaningless.
"No."
Anker turned his head and curled the corners of his lips.
His eyes were gloomy.
"Thank you, Your Highness.
"Thank you for facing the injustice of others, facing the pleas of desperation, facing the suffering of others …"
"You did not respond with indifference, but turned around and waved your sleeves.
"Even if you could.
"Thank you for your mercy at the banquet."
Mercy.
Thales could not help but recall Zayen's words.
"You used your power to cut off this hope: regardless of victory or defeat in the duel, life or death, whether you killed the prince or never overturned the case, his family would be doomed eternally.
"You took advantage of his humanity, forced him to give up the duel, and even forced him to live. You were so stingy that you were not even willing to grant him the mercy of death.
"Now, who is the heartless one?"
The prince shuddered slightly.
Anker said in a daze,
"Thank you for being willing to come here and listen to my voice — or my last words.
"Thank you for being as tolerant, just, kind, and wise as you are rumored to be."
Anker looked at the ceiling, but the corners of his lips curled up into a smile, as if he was looking at a beautiful dream.
"There's no sunlight here … but it's not that dark, is it?"
Thales could not take it anymore and slapped the cart next to him.
He took a deep breath and turned around.
"Anker, I promise you, about your father and the Doyle family …"
"It doesn't matter anymore."
Anker shook his head, his eyes lifeless.
"I know my father, Your Highness."
"He's just a damned bastard. He's obstinate and self-opinionated. He's extravagant and self-righteous."
His expression was disgusted and contemptuous.
Thales stared at him blankly.
"Anker …"
"Marrying him was my mother's greatest misfortune in her life. Marrying her was my father's greatest fortune."
Anker snorted.
"Yes, in order to catch people's attention, what I said at the banquet was insincere and untruthful: My father brought this upon himself," he smiled apologetically at Thales.
"I know, I've always known."
"Even if Doyle's scheme didn't make him squander his fortune, he would have fallen into the hands of others. It was just a matter of time."
"It has nothing to do with anyone."
"And it has nothing to do with you."
Thales did not speak. He only lowered his head and held Anker's hand, feeling him squeeze it even harder as he continued to listen to his confession.
Just like in the Prison of Bones.
Anker was lost in thought as he recounted his troubles like a child.
"In fact, ever since I was young, my father was best at whipping his wife and children, just like most fathers in Western Desert."
"In the Tower of Eradication, Teacher Kuradel said that I was very perceptive and sensitive to the enemy's attacks, very suitable for the Rose line," Anker was contemptuous at first, then broke into laughter.
"I could only tell him that this was the result of my training since I was young, a family tradition."
"A family tradition, a family tradition, hahahaha …"
"Whether you believe it or not," Thales said in a low voice,
"Being good at taking beatings is also a family tradition."
Anker glanced at him, and the two smiled at each other.
"Maybe we should have known each other earlier, and exchanged insights …"
But the young man's smile became more bitter, bitter, and heavy.
Thales listened quietly.
Like it was the last thing he could do.
Byrael exhaled.
"I was never close to my father, and I don't want to pay for the mess he left behind."
Anker shook his head, the conflict in his eyes slowly turning into relief.
"But we have no choice, right?"
"Especially our origins."
'I was never close to my father.
We have no choice.
Especially our origins. '
At that moment, Thales, who was in a trance, felt his hand tighten, and the Sin of Hell's River jumped slightly.
"Anker …" The prince endured the pain and gently patted the back of Anker's hand to make him relax.
But Anker Byrael just stared blankly at the void.
"But my brothers and sisters, they are innocent, just like our mother."
"They should not be like me, burdened by their father's shadow. They should walk out of Western Desert and see the world outside, just like I promised them."
Anker came back to his senses, full of disappointment.
"But I can't see it."
Thales closed his eyes.
'My father's shadow …'
At that moment, he seemed to see the figure at the end of the long table in Ballard Room, or the throne at the end of the long corridor in the council chamber.
"They will be fine."
The prince opened his eyes and tried his best to comfort Anker.
"Your sisters-in-law, I swear … I'll do my best."
Anker looked at him and nodded laboriously.
"It's impossible to count on Byrael to keep his title, land, and provide them with adequate food and clothing …"
Anker seemed to recall something and tried his best to explain.
"But my mother, she deposited a sum of money in the royal bank when she was alive. The proof is in the hands of our maid, Tina.
"After I die, that might be enough to raise my younger siblings until they become adults — not necessarily. Before I came, I really didn't expect the prices in the capital city to be so expensive."
Anker smiled bitterly.
"I just need your help not to let others find out — especially my father's creditors. The Doyles are not the only family, especially after Crow Caw City's land has been reclaimed."
Thales exhaled, trying his best to calm his voice and instill confidence.
"I will get someone to look after it," Thales said seriously.
"In Western Desert, Duke Fakenhaz will give me face, and Derek Kroma of Wing Fort is also my friend."
The truth was, he did not know if they were his friends.
But he had to say it.
He had to.
But in the next second, Thales' palms trembled.
He quickly looked at Anker, who was agitated, his chest heaving up and down.
"Anker, don't be agitated, maintain your strength …"
It took Anker a few seconds to recover.
"It's alright, Your Highness."
He was sweating profusely and tried his best to smile.
"Even if I'm someone's pawn, it's still my choice."
Thales looked at him, all sorts of feelings welling up in his heart.
But he had a thought.
"Speaking of pawns," the prince said slowly,
"There's still one more thing I can't figure out, Anker."
Anker turned his head slowly and looked at him in confusion.
"Zayen Covendier, as the instigator of the conspiracy, he specifically told me yesterday," Thales said in a low voice, trying not to let his emotions affect his judgment.
"He asked me to come and see you in prison when I'm free."
Anker's palms froze.
The Duke of Star Lake said solemnly,
"He also said: His Majesty will be very happy."
"Why?"
"Why did he say that? Anker Byrael? "
(End of this chapter)
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