Renaissance Palace, Elam Atrium.
"This is the sword of the Ancient Empire."
In the atrium, Vanguard Marico swept past two rows of solemn-looking royal guards. He held the hilt in one hand and the blade in the other as he carefully observed the unfamiliar longsword before him.
"Two thousand years ago, 'Great Emperor' Camelot Carlose forged them to reward the meritorious subjects of the Ancient Empire."
"Hey, hey, hey, take it easy!"
A grumbling voice came from behind him. Marico frowned and turned around.
In between the two rows of royal guards, the bruised and swollen Cohen knelt on the ground. His hands and feet were tied up. He raised his head indignantly.
"That's my family's heirloom!"
Beside him, Doyle, who was also tied up, bumped into Cohen.
"Shut up."
Doyle gritted his teeth. He glanced at Marico worriedly and exasperatedly.
"We're already in this state. Can't you not provoke him?"
Kohen was not convinced and was about to retort, but he glanced at his surroundings from the corner of his eyes. Wya, Glover, Ralf, and the rest were all tied up and lying on the ground in a sorry state. They were closely guarded by guards who had unfriendly gazes.
The police officer's imposing manner immediately diminished. He whispered to Doyle indignantly, "Damn it, Doyle.
"Damn it, Doyle, you're telling me you're just here to brace yourself …"
"No, my original words were 'His Highness likes to joke'. For example, he often threatens to send Officer Mallos to the Prison of Bones, but in the end, he still obediently goes back to be a target practice …"
"You call this a joke?"
"Weren't you the one who attacked first at the palace gate? That headbutt of yours … "
"It wasn't me! I was just standing in front pretending to be fierce, but someone kicked me in the butt … "
Marico's voice suddenly came.
"Family's heirloom?"
His footsteps drew closer. Cohen and Doyle immediately stopped talking and lowered their heads in unison.
"That's right," Cohen whispered.
"My old man warned me many times …"
Doyle bumped into him again.
Marico stopped beside them and chuckled.
"It's said that the ancient sword itself has a special power. It's indescribably magical."
Marico sized up and caressed the "Bearer" from all angles, his gaze slowly becoming infatuated.
"Of course, the great contributors who expanded the territory and conquered the world for the Imperium were all seasoned veterans. How could the Great Emperor reward them with ordinary weapons?"
Cohen and Doyle looked at each other.
Marico gently stroked the mysterious gem on the hilt of his sword.
"Legend has it that they can spontaneously absorb energy and matter from blood, soil, air, moisture, and even steel that they collide with to sharpen their blades and strengthen their bodies. Therefore, dust cannot penetrate them, water cannot rust them, blood cannot corrode them, and battle cannot break them."
"The weapon itself seems to have life and memories. Even if it is slightly bent and deformed, it will recover on its own as long as there is enough time."
"A hundred years without losing its edge, a thousand years without changing its shape."
Cohen was taken aback. He looked at the familiar sword and burst out laughing.
"Not even in a thousand years … Ha, how can there be such a god? I have to bring it to the blacksmith shop for maintenance every month. Master Zedi from the tower said 'this sword is quite durable' …"
At this point, Cohen's expression changed and he looked at Marico suspiciously.
"Re … Really?"
Marico's gaze drifted away.
"In the eyes of the Great Emperor, only an immortal Divine Weapon is worthy of immeasurable merit and eternal loyalty."
Cohen frowned.
Then the monthly maintenance …
Oh no, did I get tricked by Karachi again? And those profiteering blacksmiths in Blade Fangs Camp …
"Time flies, and the years change. They were scattered all over the world in the chaos of war, but they are still rare Divine Weapons."
Marico stroked the back of the Bearer's sword thoughtfully.
"They have been passed down from generation to generation and have never decayed. They use the sword to show loyalty and sincerity.
"They tell the descendants of the Imperium of the past prosperity of the Imperium."
Cohen and Doyle exchanged glances again.
Marico exhaled.
"A long time ago, my ancestors also had a sword like this. Until the tyranny of the Red King, our family declined and we had to sell our ancestral property to rebuild our family business. "
Cohen replied with an "oh", but his expression changed as he thought of something.
"That … That's definitely not this one!"
"Look at what I said," Doyle whispered beside him in exasperation, "Marico loves to collect weapons the most …"
Vanguard Marico snorted coldly and allowed the Bearer to stop.
"It's too heavy, it doesn't suit me."
Only then did Cohen show a relieved smile.
"I've heard of you, Cohen Karabeyan, the Longsword of Twin Towers from Walla Hill — wisdom to the left, longsword to the right?"
Cohen could not help but frown when he heard the family language.
Marico's eyes flickered.
"Maybe you don't know, but five generations ago, before we changed our surname to Marico to avoid disaster, our family tree crossed paths."
'Crossed paths?'
Cohen was stunned for a moment. Before he could reply, Doyle's eyes lit up and he popped his head out.
"Oh? That's good. By the way, Doyle and Karabeyan also crossed paths, which means that the three of us are — "
But Marico did not even look at him. He raised the heavy sword in his hand again.
"As a noble, it's not a big mistake to be unambitious."
"But I thought you only wanted to mess with street thieves," Marico said coldly, "Not stupid enough to break into the palace and rebel, Royal Knight Cohen Karabeyan."
"Re-rebel?"
Cohen was shocked and smiled apologetically.
"It's a misunderstanding, it's a misunderstanding. I'm here for that, that … Have you ever been in a gang fight? It's when two people face each other and talk tough while two hundred people stand on both sides and shout, but don't do anything …"
"Twenty people."
But Marico did not listen to him at all. His tone was cold.
"When you broke into the palace, there were twenty guards on duty. They were all heroes from the Vanguard Division and the Defense Division, young lads with bright futures.
"In the face of the arrogance of the nobles, they were neither servile nor overbearing. They were loyal to their duty. Even when they were beaten and injured by you, they remained resolute and protected the palace."
Cohen was stunned and said anxiously,
"That was a misunderstanding. I wasn't the one who attacked first …"
Marico snorted angrily and became even more displeased.
"For you, of course, it's just a small and harmless misunderstanding."
"But to them …"
Marico tightened his grip on the hilt of his sword.
"'This is the cause of the death of the late king.' This was His Majesty's comment."
As soon as he said this, the gazes of the Royal Guards around him became even fiercer.
"This will be recorded in the records of the guards of the Flag Bearer Division. It will accompany them throughout their lives and be passed down in the history of the guards."
The more Marico spoke, the angrier he became.
"Not only will they be humiliated, but they will also have to bear the blame on behalf of others. The royal family will not be wrong, so they can only be the ones at fault for what happened today. They will be charged with the crime of overstepping their authority and dereliction of duty. They will also have to live in fear of 'offending the prince'. Their punishment will not be determined, and their future is uncertain.
"It's all because of you."
Marico looked at Cohen, who had a stiff smile on his face, and gritted his teeth.
"Bossy, arrogant, arrogant, and lawless. You've turned Renaissance Palace into a mess, and you've humiliated the Royal Guards."
As soon as he finished speaking, Marico turned his arm. The load-bearing sword spun in the air and neatly returned to its sheath.
But when the head of the sheath turned back, it strangely hit Cohen's abdomen!
* Bang! *
After being hit, Cohen fell to the ground in pain. He mumbled incoherently, "Grass Nanny …
"Sorry, it was an accident when I sheathed the sword," Marico said coldly.
Marico said coldly as he pushed the load-bearing man away.
"It's because it's too heavy."
There was a commotion among the captives.
"Ah, ah, ah," Doyle said anxiously.
"Well, when a prince breaks the law, he's no different from a commoner — Bah, bah, bah, I mean, when a prince breaks the law, he's no different from a commoner …"
But these words made Marico snort angrily.
"Of course, you're just using your master's power to intimidate others.
"So, not only do you not have to do anything, all you have to do is smile obsequiously, and a big shot like the Foreign Affairs Minister will use his connections to greet you. Whether it's overt or covert, he will threaten me not to use lynching …"
Marico looked at Cohen, who was curled up on the ground in pain. His breathing gradually quickened.
"But in the entire kingdom, no one dares to offend your noble master.
"Because no matter how presumptuous and outrageous he is, no matter how many people he harms, no matter how much trouble he causes, His Majesty will still tolerate him and forgive him.
"He will still strut out arrogantly, point at my nose, and ask me to let you go, to let you continue to get away with it, as if nothing happened. And after that, we will have to unify our statements to protect his reputation."
The more Marico spoke, the more upset he became. In the end, he sneered.
"And the captain will even say, 'It's our duty to carry the burden for the royal family'."
The vanguard looked at Cohen, who was at his feet. His gaze was slightly cold.
"I know this world is unfair.
"But it shouldn't be like this."
Cohen coughed a few times and recovered with difficulty.
"Well, I understand you." The police grimaced.
"But if you f * cking screw with me again, again …"
Doyle, who had been frantically signaling him to shut up, closed his eyes in pain.
Marico sneered. This time, he did not hide it. He raised the load-bearing sword and aimed it at Cohen.
Cohen was not afraid. He gritted his teeth and looked at him.
"You make it sound nice, but what you're best at …"
A deep voice rang out at the right time.
"Isn't it just touching yourself first, then being self-righteous and taking sides?"
The voice sneered and deliberately dragged out his tone.
"Vicente Marico Brother * *?"
As soon as these words came out, everyone was stunned at first, and then a strange expression appeared on their faces.
'Big … what?'
Marico's expression changed. He turned away from Cohen and looked at another captive.
"Even if you haven't heard it in person, you should know more or less," Glover, who was covered in wounds and looked disheveled, raised his head from the other side and sneered, "I don't know about the other divisions, but the people in the Vanguard Division call you that in private.
"Because no matter what kind of conflict there is in the Vanguard Division, you always like to be the first to stand up and uphold justice. You're full of reason and pretentious. Why, do you think that as long as your d * ck is big enough, everyone will stick out their asses and let you poke them? Or do you think that poking everyone makes them feel good?"
As soon as these words came out, the entire Elain Court fell silent.
Many royal guards could not help but glance at Marico.
But Marico did not speak. He just stared at Glover, his nostrils flared.
Among the captives, Wya sighed and nudged Doyle with his butt.
"I thought you were the most talkative one. Sorry, I forgot that your butt is injured."
Doyle also looked at the zombie in surprise, as if he was seeing him for the first time.
"But you don't know shit."
Glover struggled to move his bound arms and said to Marico, "Don't worry, I'm not going to kill you.
"Every time you lie to yourself, it's worse than the sh * t that comes out of your mother's mouth when your father clamps her leg between his legs and f * ck her to the heavens."
The zombie spat on the ground.
"Brother * *."
The surroundings fell silent again.
"By the Sunset Goddess," Doyle whispered in disbelief.
"Where did he learn to talk so much trash?"
After a long, long time, Marico took a deep breath, suppressed his emotions, and walked forward.
"Caleb Glover, it's you again."
Marico looked at the big man kneeling on the ground with a contemptuous expression and narrowed his eyes.
"Why am I not surprised?"
Glover snorted coldly and did not answer.
Marico looked at him with a complicated gaze, "You used to be one of the best in the Vanguard Division. You have a noble family, excellent abilities, and a promising future. I once thought that you were different from those fops who joined the guards to gain experience."
Doyle, who was listening by the side, was stunned. 'Why did Marico look at me when he said this?'
Marico came to Glover's side and his gaze was cold.
"Until you couldn't control your lower body and fell for prostitution."
'Prostitution?'
As soon as he said this, the captives, including many Royal Guards, all looked at Glover. Kohen nodded subconsciously at first, but when he realized something, he quickly joined the others and looked surprised.
Only Doyle was shocked.
"You, you're really not gay?"
A hint of anger appeared on Glover's face.
"I didn't want to say much at first. After all, the matter has been suppressed." Marico raised his eyebrows.
"But, yes, I know that the reason you were removed and chased out of the Vanguard Division was because when you were prostituting in Red Street Market …"
Kohen nodded with lingering fear.
Glover could not help but say angrily,
"It's none of your f * cking business!"
It was the first time many people in the Elain Court knew about this, and they could not help but frown.
Marico chuckled, and his expression gradually turned cold.
"How many times?"
The Second Vanguard asked.
"First-class Vanguard Caleb Glover, how many times did you sneak off to Red Street Market on the day of payday after receiving your money, only to come back at dawn with an empty wallet and exhausted?
"How many times did you lie to my face when you called up the whole team in the Vanguard Division, saying that you were not in good spirits because you did not sleep well?
"And what was the name of the brothel you often went to? What clubhouse? "
With every word Marico said, Glover's expression became worse until the latter finally could not hold it in any longer.
"I like to prostitute! What's wrong! "
"What's wrong? What's wrong? "Marico said coldly.
"Just because a colleague picked a prostitute you liked, you held a grudge and plotted revenge. In the end, you made a huge mistake and destroyed your own future."
Kohen's mind raced, and he felt that this point sounded familiar.
Glover remembered something, and his expression became ferocious.
"They deserved it."
"I know that Menides is a scumbag," Marico said coldly. "I also know that you have an old grudge against him, and I even guessed that he set a trap to provoke you first."
"But so what? Are you really stupid enough to take the bait? Do you have so much heroic spirit that you've lost your mind after being provoked by a few women? "
Glover's eyes trembled, and he clenched his fists tightly.
"Vanguard Glover, you abandoned yourself, murdered your colleagues, and maimed your own brothers and sisters, all because of a few prostitutes' pillow talk?"
Everyone, including the captives and the guards, was surprised and looked at Glover.
Facing countless gazes, the zombie trembled.
But in the end, he suppressed his emotions and sneered.
"Have you ever tasted a woman? Of course not — Brother * * is too big, and no one can fit inside. How pitiful. "
Marico was stunned.
Glover raised his head and smiled provocatively.
"Let me tell you, for that taste, I can kill ten more Menides."
Marico was enraged.
"He has already been punished — thanks to you, Menides will have to spend the rest of his life in bed."
Glover turned his head and spat.
"He's lucky. In the original plan, he had to spend the rest of his life in the dirt. "
His indifferent attitude agitated Marico. The latter looked at him for a long time, then sighed and shook his head.
"I tried to help you."
Marico was disappointed.
"Before that, I helped you cover up in the Vanguard Division. I just hoped that Officer Stanley wouldn't find out so quickly that you were addicted to prostitution.
"I've visited your brother many times, hoping that he could persuade you with his brotherly love, so that you could mend your ways and repent."
Their gazes met, and Glover frowned.
"I didn't beg you to do that."
Marico shook his head.
"Now it seems that you are addicted and have no remorse."
"After the incident, I shouldn't have gone to Officer Adrian and Officer Stanley, nor should I have visited the victims and asked them to spare your life to atone for your crimes." The vanguard shook his head in disappointment. "It would have been better to follow the rules of the guards and get rid of you in the well."
Glover's gaze froze.
He became angrier and enunciated each word.
"I, didn't, beg you, to do that!"
Marico's expression remained unchanged. He turned the load-bearing sword in his hand, and the scabbard hit Glover's abdomen!
Amid the exclamations of the crowd, Glover fell to the ground in pain.
"You, you made the Vanguard Division the biggest joke in Renaissance Palace. The Flag Bearer Division is still targeting us because of your rarely seen vicious infighting among the guards."
Marico paced around him.
"Not only did you not feel remorseful, but you also used power to escape punishment. You even had the nerve to come back and cause trouble in the palace.
"You brought shame to the entire Emperor's Praetorian Guards."
Glover endured the pain and raised his head.
"Yo, Brother * *?" The disheveled zombie still squeezed out a smile and mocked.
"You poked me so soft. Did you forget to take some aphrodisiac?"
Marico's gaze turned cold.
"The Ancient Empire Sword is easy to maintain and is durable."
The Second Vanguard said coldly,
"But if the sword is irreversibly damaged, broken, and has to be returned to the furnace to be recast, the power contained in it will be changed …
"Even if the sword is as sharp as before, it will no longer be pure, and will no longer look the same."
Glover stared at him fiercely, not showing any signs of weakness.
Marico's gaze swept across the captives in front of him.
"Just like the nobles of Constellation.
"Although it has been passed down since ancient times and has been passed down from generation to generation, after thousands of years …"
Marico raised the load-bearing sword in his hand.
"It's no longer the Empire after all."
"Yes," Glover snorted angrily.
"Who knows which generation of your ancestors were born from a woman who went out to have an affair?"
Bang!
Glover was knocked to the ground for the third time. Doyle, who was next to him, turned his head in pain and exhaled.
"I don't know what Marico did to the zombie to make him so angry, but he'll get himself killed if he continues like this," Doyle said to the captives in a low voice.
"Think of a way!"
At this moment.
"But I've heard it before!"
Wya's voice came from behind him, causing Marico to pause.
"Those people who only have the Empire in their heads …"
Wya looked up and chuckled.
"They've never seen the Empire before."
Marico put down his scabbard and turned to Wya.
Doyle quietly gave the latter a thumbs up, wriggled over to the dying Glover, and lifted him up.
As expected of the real Wya!
"The prince's attendant, Wya Caso," Marico said coldly.
Wya nodded and said calmly,
"According to what you said, this person is no longer under your command."
"Whether you want to beat or kill him, his life belongs to Prince Thales."
Marico stopped in front of him.
"Your Excellency, I respect your father, Count Caso. He is a noble and talented man who has made great contributions to the kingdom."
Marico was expressionless.
"You should follow in his footsteps and dutifully assist and advise His Highness.
"Instead of colluding with these sinners."
Glover, who had caught his breath, could not help but speak again, but Doyle covered his mouth tightly.
Wya frowned at first, and then smiled.
"There's no need for that."
The attendant's gaze was sharp.
"Not every son is worthy of his father's glory."
Wya pouted.
"Just like this sword, no matter how sharp it is, how legendary it is, how … pure it is.
"The Empire still perished."
Marico frowned.
"Just like your family. In the end, you still sold your ancestor's sword."
Wya shook his head.
"That's why you're where you are today.
"Isn't it?
"Brother * * *?"
Marico's gaze became worse.
Glover was inexplicably angry. Only Doyle secretly gave Wya a thumbs up again.
'The real Wya …
'Loyal!'
At this moment.
"Did I miss something?"
The familiar teenage voice was heard. It was casual, but it caused a commotion among the Royal Guards in the atrium, and they all stepped back.
"I mean, other than 'Brother * * *'?"
Hearing this voice, Marico sighed heavily.
Thales appeared under the light amid the bustle, looking exhausted.
The captives were instantly energized as if they had seen their savior.
"Your Highness!"
"Little fart, Your Highness!"
"I thought I would never see you again, wow —"
"We're saved!"
"I knew it!"
Thales forced a smile, waved his hand here and there, nodded there, and responded to the excited shouts of his subordinates.
In the bustle, Marico turned around and shouted angrily.
"Shut up!"
The guards in Elain Court scolded one after another, suppressing the enthusiasm of the captives.
"Alright, the show is over, Vanguard Marico." Thales waved his hand at Marico and said sleepily,
"Untie them."
"It's too dark at night. I need company."
The vanguard stared at him with a complicated expression and bowed first.
"Forgive me for not being able to comply, Your Highness," Marico insisted.
"They are all suspects who trespassed into the palace or instigated nobles to trespass into the palace. They must be interrogated strictly."
Thales yawned loudly and did not care.
"Listen, I just fought three hundred rounds with the king. I'm tired, and I don't want to talk to you about this."
"Go ask Adrian." The prince pointed at the way they came.
"He'll give you the same answer."
"Then I'll wait here for the captain's orders." Marico refused to show weakness.
"Go ahead, but they can't leave."
Thales looked around and saw the group of Royal Guards who were indignant and in awe.
"Let's make a deal, Vanguard Marico," the teenager sighed and said, "If you let my people go."
"And I'll give you something in return?"
Marico snorted coldly and refused.
"Bribing the palace is a taboo for the royal family, Your Highness."
But Thales shook his finger and approached him.
"You know, when we came in, the royal guards guarding the palace gate," the prince smiled and lowered his voice.
"I suspect that they have ulterior motives and intend to harm the heir of the kingdom."
Marico's gaze changed.
"What?"
Thales stretched his neck and revealed the bandage on it.
"Look, during that conflict, my neck was cut. Wow, there was so much blood. Tell me, isn't this plotting against the prince? For the safety of the future king, should we drag him out and give him an explanation? Kick him, or them, out of the guards? "
"That's not the truth, it's slander." Marico's expression turned ugly.
The captives stared at him in a daze.
Thales smiled. "That's not up to you to decide."
"After all, my father also said that the death of the late king was all due to your negligence."
"Don't you think so?"
Marico took a deep breath.
"You —"
"Let my people go." Thales did not wait for him to speak and pressed his palm on Marico's shoulder.
"I'll take care of the Flag Bearer Division and make sure that those boys won't bear the crime of 'hurting the prince'. There won't be any record of 'dereliction of duty' in their resumes, and I won't retaliate against them. What do you think?"
Marico's expression changed several times.
Thales clicked his tongue.
"So, brother * * *, you're going to fight me to the end …"
He looked at the captives who were waiting to be fed.
"Or …?"
A minute later.
Thales walked through the corridors of Renaissance Palace, surrounded by many people who had survived the disaster (in high spirits).
Their procession was disorderly and messy, but they made a lot of noise (along with a big black horse that was unhappy because it had missed dinner), and all the guards and servants along the way avoided them.
"I'm sorry, Cohen. I didn't expect it to be so serious," Thales said tiredly.
"I just wanted to borrow your family's name, but I didn't expect you to be the first one to make a move."
"Forget it. Once the director finds out, he'll definitely suspend me again. I just hope he won't cut my salary." Cohen, whose face was bruised and swollen, hugged his family's heirloom sword miserably. Snot and tears ran down his face. "No, I remember now. I was suspended to reflect …
"And I wasn't the first one to make a move. Someone kicked me in the back …"
Doyle coughed twice behind him and said in a low voice,
"Does the director know His Highness?"
Cohen was stunned for a moment before he reacted in an unprecedented manner.
"Ah, Your Highness! It's my honor to be the vanguard for you!
"With our friendship, I'm willing to go through fire and water for you!"
'If Cohen wasn't the first one to make a move, then …'
Thales glanced behind him.
Ralf looked elsewhere and snorted coldly.
"Tsk, tsk, tsk. Young Calun, I didn't expect this, I didn't expect this!"
Doyle patted Glover's shoulder in a gratified manner, completely ignoring the latter's discomfort.
"You're a kindred spirit too!
"When are we going to share our experiences in Red Street Market …"
Glover snorted angrily, shook him off and walked forward.
"Get lost!"
Doyle, who was rejected, was a little embarrassed. He chuckled at Genard and Willow behind him.
"We … have a good relationship. We talk more casually, casually."
Wya caught up with Thales and asked worriedly,
"Your Highness, did you … get what you wanted?"
Thales snapped out of his thoughts and forced a smile.
"I'm still alive, right?"
Wya looked at his expression and hesitated to speak.
"But …"
Thales raised his eyebrows and interrupted him, changing the topic, "Oh, right, Vanguard Marico just now."
"He's not bad?"
Glover snorted in disdain from behind him.
"Even though he more or less wanted to gain fame and show his loyalty to gain favor, in the end, he compromised." Thales scratched his chin.
"He didn't force the situation to its end and ruin the futures of his subordinates for the sake of his reputation of not fearing the prince."
"There's no difference." Glover was unhappy.
"He's still an arrogant b * stard."
"And those dozen idiots who were beaten up by us will probably still be grateful to Brother * *, thinking that he saved them."
Thales shook his head.
"You have to give him a way out."
"And we have to accept that people are not perfect, Pudgy Dumpling."
Hearing this form of address, Glover looked embarrassed and could not help but slow down.
"Huh, Pudgy Dumpling?" Doyle caught up from behind. His gaze shifted, and he looked interested.
"Why did His Highness call you that? You're not fat, at least you're not fat when you're wearing clothes. Could it be … Pudgy Dumpling? "
Glover paused for a moment before he became fierce again.
"If you call me that one more time —"
"— you'll be in danger," Kohen, who had nothing to live for, brushed past the two of them and finished the second half of Zombie's sentence listlessly.
The fierce-looking Glover's expression froze.
"He —" Glover could no longer continue being fierce. He held his breath and said reluctantly, "You're right.
You're right. "
Glover glared at Doyle, snorted coldly, and left angrily.
Doyle was left standing on the same spot, confused.
'Since when did their relationship become so good?
'I'm obviously Zombie's partner. I'm the grandson of that idiot's great-uncle's brother-in-law, okay?'
He could only turn to Ralf, who was at the back, and explain helplessly, "I know.
They're hard to deal with, right? They don't care about other people's feelings at all — "
But Ralf walked past him expressionlessly. He did not even look at Doyle.
"Shoo —"
Only Doyle was left to rub his nose awkwardly and mock himself at the air.
"It's okay, I'm fine. But thank you for your concern, Mister Ralf. Also, happy working with you."
Jennie Black Horse snorted in disdain as her reply.
At the front of the group, Wya took a deep breath.
"But I know, Your Highness, even if Marrick does not agree to your conditions," the attendant smiled and said,
"You will not let those guards be wronged for no reason, right?"
Thales paused for a moment.
He was slightly absent-minded and did not know what he was thinking.
In the next second, the prince snorted softly in a noncommittal manner.
"Who knows?"
Wya was stunned.
Thales did not say anything else. He took large strides and walked forward.
Wya stared at the prince's back and could not help but say,
"Strange."
"What's wrong?" Glover, who had a lot on his mind, asked casually.
Wya shook his head.
"I don't know." He stared at Thales' back.
"I just feel that there's something wrong with His Highness."
Ralf snorted in disdain and made a rude gesture with his hand.
Glover asked, "Why?"
Wya hesitated for a second and said,
"If he were to ask that question in the past, he would definitely smile easily and say 'of course' with certainty.
And he would never hesitate. "
Ralf was slightly stunned.
Glover was deep in thought.
— — —
Renaissance Palace, the royal guards' duty room.
"The alarm in the palace has stopped for an hour. It's been a long time since anyone came to snitch on you."
The watchman of the royal guards, Tormond Mallos, gently put down his maté tea and said calmly,
"At least tell me what's going on outside, right?"
"For example, Renaissance Palace caught on fire?"
Opposite him, the vice-captain cum chief flagbearer, Vogel Talon flipped open the next document.
"The guards' daily exercise. Don't worry," the vice-captain did not even raise his head.
"Our work here is not done — the defense and duty of Mindis Hall. Have you arranged the arrangements according to the rules of the royal guards?"
Mallos looked up. The Sound Replication Spell on the wall was still in operation, glowing brightly.
"The daily exercise requires thirty fully-armed people to block the door of the duty room, surround the two of us, and allow entry but not exit?"
There was a moment of silence in the room.
Vogel chuckled and said nonchalantly, "That's right.
"We need to exercise to deal with all situations — answer the question."
All situations.
Mallos narrowed his eyes, "Even me?"
Vogel looked up and stared straight at him.
"Especially you."
'Especially you.'
Mallos closed his eyes and let out a long breath.
"Tell me," the watchman said helplessly.
"He didn't assassinate His Majesty, did he?"
Vogel's fingers paused as he flipped through the document.
"It's not that hard to guess." Mallos reached out and closed the cover of the document while answering Vogel's surprise.
"Other than the prince rebelling, I can't think of any other reason to lock his personal guard captain here like a thief and have you keep me here to chat."
Vogel was expressionless.
Mallos sighed.
"Hmm, that kid shouldn't be that stupid. But who knows, he was taught by the Northlanders."
Mallos looked at Vogel seriously, "Listen, if the situation gets out of hand, you'll need me."
The two men in the duty room were silent for a while.
"Alright, I can let you go."
Mallos' eyes lit up.
"As long as you answer me one thing truthfully."
Vogel stared at the Sound Replication Spell on the wall and made up his mind.
"That child …
"Is His Majesty's …
"By blood?"
Mallos suddenly looked up!
By blood.
"What's wrong with His Highness?"
Mallos sped up his speech and interrogated him.
"Is he still alive?"
The watchman's reaction and attitude made Vogel frown.
"If he's not by blood, then he's …"
Vogel paused, stared at his opponent, and said tentatively,
"By blood of His Highness Crown Prince Midier?"
Crown Prince Midier.
Mallos was stunned at first, then exhaled and laughed out loud.
He leaned back in his chair.
"So, he's safe?"
"Whether he's safe or not has a lot to do with this," Vogel was unyielding.
"Answer me."
Mallos chuckled and looked back at him with a teasing gaze.
"His Highness Midier died eighteen years ago, in the year 660 of the Calendar of Eradication," the watchman looked straight at Vogel.
"As for that child, he's fourteen years old this year."
Eighteen years ago.
Fourteen years old.
Vogel reacted and felt strangely awkward.
"Alright, then we —"
Bang!
The door to the duty room was slammed open.
Mallos and Vogel turned their heads in unison. One was relieved, the other unhappy.
Flag bearer Will walked in with a mournful expression, "Sir —"
"I said not to disturb," Vogel said unhappily.
Flag bearer Will's expression became even worse. He nodded mechanically and made way for the figure behind him.
"Right here?"
Prince Thales stepped into the room. The two men sitting opposite him were shocked and stood up at the same time.
"Just a lousy place like this," Thales said with a frown.
"Aren't you two too chatty?"
Behind him, the heads of Doyle, Cohen, Wya and the others popped out from the doorframe and curiously sized up the duty room where only the commanding officer could rest.
"Your Highness."
Vogel was in slight disbelief.
"You … are all well."
Thales waved his hand to indicate that he understood.
"Your Highness."
Mallos' gaze was indifferent.
"Did you have fun?"
Thales snorted and rolled his eyes at him.
"You, what are you spacing out for?" The prince waved his hand and turned to leave.
"Go home!"
Mallos raised his eyebrows at Vogel, indicating that he had no choice.
Vogel reacted and spoke forcefully.
"Your Highness.
"The paperwork for the Flag Bearer Division has not been completed."
Vogel came in front of Thales and blocked his way gloomily.
"And this is an important tradition of the royal guards. It concerns the safety of the royal family. Please understand."
The corners of Thales' mouth curled up.
"Who's that?"
"The villain of the guards. Look, even Mallos can't do anything about him …"
"What will His Highness do?"
"One silver coin. I bet he'll do it the hard way, like threatening his house …"
"Then I'll bet on the soft way …"
Chattering sounds came from behind him.
Thales' expression froze. He turned around abruptly!
The heads on the doorframe disappeared in unison.
It was quiet.
The prince turned back to look at the flag bearer.
"What if I don't understand?"
Vogel suppressed his anger, bowed, and smiled.
"Your Highness, allow me to introduce. This is the Sound Replication Spell."
Thales followed his gaze to the wall and noticed the strange spell that was glowing faintly.
Magic.
Magic again.
An inexplicable irritation welled up in his heart.
"It's recording everything we're saying at this very moment, word for word," Vogel spoke appropriately, neither obsequiously nor haughtily.
"Passing it down to future generations for their judgment."
Thales frowned.
"Future generations?"
Vogel nodded.
"Although the Sound Replication Stone used for recording is an extremely rare consumable, in the hundreds of years of Constellation's history, many wills and wills of the former kings have been left this way."
He narrowed his eyes.
"Many historians wrote biographies of the former kings of Constellation, which were passed down for generations to come, in accordance with this source."
Wrote biographies, which were passed down for generations to come …
Thales froze when he heard that. He subconsciously straightened his collar.
"Glover, Doyle, both of you accompany His Highness back first," Mallos spoke up and said calmly.
He said calmly, "I'll be there soon.
"It won't take long."
Zombie and Doyle were about to enter the room, but Vogel turned around and glared at them.
Mallos and Vogel's eyes met in the air.
As if there was lightning.
Thales' fingers that were adjusting his collar paused.
"Sound Replication Spell? In that case, no matter what I say now, "the young man turned around slowly,
"Behind me, the kings and queens of centuries and millennia, they can hear it?"
Vogel nodded cheerfully.
"Yes, so in order to be thorough, Your Highness, why don't you go first …"
"Alright," Thales sighed and walked towards the wall.
Vogel could not help but laugh.
"Without a reasonable method, you cannot dismantle it …"
But Thales merely put his palms in front of his mouth, aimed at the Spell, and took a deep breath.
"My descendants, listen carefully, listen, listen …"
Vogel was puzzled.
Mallos' expression changed. He suddenly had a bad feeling about this.
Thales called for the Sin of Hell's River, focusing it on his vocal cords and throat. His voice grew louder and louder.
"Listen … Listen … Listen …"
In the next second, he roared with a ferocious expression.
"What the f * ck are you going to listen to, ah ah ah ah ah, stupid thing —"
The duty room was not big. His voice was deafening like thunder. The lights in the room flickered, and even the maté tea in the cup was shaken.
After the roar, the room returned to silence. Only the echoes outside the corridor continued, shaking the entire palace.
The light of the Spell flickered a few times and dimmed considerably. It seemed to be on the verge of death.
Thales exhaled.
After letting out this roar that would resound for thousands of years, he only felt refreshed and carefree.
The prince tidied up his appearance and turned around contentedly. He faced the two petrified men and the stone heads on the door frame. He was cultured and elegant.
"Excuse me, is the paperwork done?"
(End of this chapter)
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