Kingdom’s Bloodline

Chapter 387 Prince vs. Prince

The moonlight penetrated the window with only a few wooden blocks, and the image of the 30-year-old mercenary in front of him was reflected in front of Thales: his unshaven eyes, his eyes relaxed, his posture relaxed, and a cold smile appeared in his mouth.

His leather armor is fastened to the upper body, and he has not been unloaded during sleep. The surface of the leather is mottled. It seems to be weather-beaten in the years when the owner runs east and west. The leather armor is tied with various tools that the mercenaries carry with them: Knives, scissors, bandages, hemostatic powder, ropes, meteorites and velvet...

How did he come over these years?

From the prince, to...

Taylor looked at him quietly, looking at the man who looked like a lot of experience and tough.

"So is it really you?"

"His Royal Morar?"

He asked faintly.

silence.

Still silent.

The man in front of him has not moved.

It seems that this is just a dream.

In the **** of the senses, this dusty place, the simple layout of the cottage seems deserted and dead, only the sound of the fast rope from the outside of a wall, reminding Tells: Everything in front of you, indeed, actually happened.

"Although I listened to Peggy Grand Duke a long time ago - it should be said that the former 'Peffer Grand Duke, you want to be a mercenary..."

Tyres silently said: "But I really didn't think..."

Dean interrupted him.

"Moral Walton," the bald mercenary looked the same and shook his head gently: "The name has not been seen for a long time."

"Since six years ago, its owner died of assassination."

"Why, are you so attached to a dead person?"

Taylors took a deep breath.

"Black Trail," the prince whispered: "How is the taste there?"

"What?" Dean's eyebrows wrinkled.

Tyres smiled.

The special experience of escaping from the shield area to Longyan City has come to the fore.

Wheelchair veterans with different minds, meaningful old crows, savvy tailors, and ghost-headed Kevin Kevin.

Let him feel his heart: "When I was in Longyan City, I heard from Gryvo’s chat. Six years ago, they also took a business that took people to the black trail. The employer was very generous: The reward for a hundred gold coins."

Dean’s expression slowly became dignified.

"Three hundred, this is not a small amount," Taylors sighed. "Only for a trip to the Dragon City?"

Dean didn't speak.

"But the problem is coming," in the dimly lit cottage, Tells continued:

"A person who takes out three hundred gold coins in the blink of an eye, must have the power, strength, and money. There are not many people in Longyan City, but they can also count a few: Kangmas’s big businessman, axe area or The bureaucrats and nobles of the spear area, the lords of the rich and the land, and even the former order officer of the black market business, Urad."

"A person who can be such a person, no matter who is provoked in Longyan City, wants to take refuge in the city, there must be many ways. Why do you have to choose the most expensive, the most difficult, the farthest, the most troublesome?"

Tyres stared at Dean, and he felt in the dark that there was a slight ups and downs in his breathing.

"Unless," Taylors took a deep breath:

"Unless this person gets it, face it - the supreme power in Longyan."

Dean slowly put his legs down on the bed and looked at him with dignity.

"In the face of Nunn Wang's recourse, facing the eyes and ears of the whole city, his ownership is insignificant, and all channels are impassable. He only goes to the area where the civilians and the poor gather, to find the head snake: the stubborn Rude, famous for seeing the vulgar veterans of the Nunn King, who are not pleasing to the eye, take a dark road that ordinary people can't think of."

Taylor looked at Dean's eyes more and more sharp: "And six years ago, what kind of person is not ordinary, it is worth the whole dragon city to fully pursue?"

Dean's mouth curled up in a faint arc.

"Black Trail, Grivo," the mercenary chewed the words. "It turns out."

"So, did you escape from the channel of the veteran?"

He looked back at Tells: "The people who have also worked on the front line of the entire western region, perhaps the entire army of the West, will enter the great desert to match you?"

Tyres did not answer him, and the prince’s expression at this moment was particularly difficult and difficult to understand.

"So, have you been hiding in this mercenary team?"

"Let everything go, abandon everything, including your father, your blood, your... come here and become an ordinary mercenary?"

"why?"

At that moment, Tells looked at Dean's eyes, but there was Chaman in the carriage.

[After leaving, it is not escape, weakness is not a relief. 】

[But he will. 】

[After we found him. 】

Dean was silent for a few seconds.

"I do what I do best, that's all," Dean sneered and shook his head: "It's like you."

Tyres exhaled a sigh of relief and said: "Mora, do you know your current situation?"

"Moral is dead, this is what I know," Dean replied coldly: "And whoever tells you: he is not dead..."

Tyres interrupted him by raising the volume.

"If Morar is dead, there is not so much trouble!"

The prince said solemnly: "But if he is still alive, even if only one day, he will still be the first heir to the Dragon and the Walton bloodline after his King Nunn. His existence, even his possible return, will It is a powerful challenge to the ownership of Longyan City."

"Do you know what it means?"

The mercenary’s chest began to rise and fall.

He bowed his head and said: "Let me guess, some people don't like this fact, and don't like the meaning behind it, right?"

Taylors chuckled.

Dean raised his head and looked clear: "So, is the new female dragon in the city of Longyan? I heard that you have a good relationship with her."

Taylor's eyes solidified.

"Is it still in power, the powerful Lisboa?"

Dean bit his words and his voice was cold: "And maybe... is that the new king who hates the Walton family?"

Tyres slowly sighed.

"Maybe they are all," the teenager said seriously:

"Your niece, Selma Alex Walton, her seat will be shaken by your presence; and your cousin, Chaman Rumba, he does not want to see a strong man. The heir is in the dragon city."

"You are a threat."

Dean froze.

"So, indeed, some people know that Morar is still alive," the mercenary slowly said: "You, Tells Comet, no matter who you work with, come to kill me or catch me to eliminate the threat. ""

Everything around seems to have solidified.

In the dark, there are only two pairs of equally sharp scorpions, one green and one gray, silently looking at each other.

Dean's twilight is slightly shallower than the King of Nunn in memory, and there is less inexplicable pressure, but with a strange meaning, as if hiding the dark owl, Thales can not help but frown.

"Yes, killing you, all the hidden dangers have vanished," Tyres whispered:

"To catch you, you will be able to harvest a great piece of chess as a bargaining chip for the future with Exeter."

The temperature between the two seems to drop below freezing.

Until Dean spoke slowly.

"Then what are you waiting for," the mercenary's face showed a rare sorrow, his palm touched the handle: "You have the entire camp as your backing."

"His Royal Highness Prince."

The silence in the room reached a new stage.

Even in the **** of the senses, the fast-paced sleep in the next door seems to be small.

But the silence lasted only a few seconds.

In the dimly lit room, Tells closed his eyes and sighed softly.

He slowly stepped back until he leaned against the wall.

The sheathed JC leaned against his lower back and let Taylor gnaw his teeth silently.

"Do not."

He opened his mouth with difficulty.

But at the moment of the opening, Taylors felt that there was a heavy stone that was put down from the heart.

"No matter why you leave, no matter why you come back, Morar."

The Star Prince silently opened his eyes: "Go."

The bald mercenary - Morar slightly glimpsed.

"Let's go, Morar, disappear outside our field of vision, never come back."

Tyres faintly said.

Morar looked at him for a long time, his eyes solidified and he did not speak.

After a long while, the mercenaries from the Northland slowly lowered their heads.

"why."

His voice became very low, very hoarse, and when he was ringing in the dark, he couldn't help but think of the former Black Sands.

That has not yet become the king of Exeter, but has already experienced the vicissitudes of Chaman Rumba.

"A few days ago, you had the opportunity to return to the army that was loyal to you and ordered them to arrest me, but you did not.

"You just got a chance to start, but turned and left," Morar said in a word: "Now you have the opportunity to capture me, but let me go?"

"why?"

His voice is rushing.

Tyres leaned against the wall and slowly withdrew from the discomfort of Hell's senses.

He snorted softly.

"Because... maybe because you saved my life?"

Tyres raised his mouth and there was a slight groan in his heart: "And I know the report."

Morar shook his head slowly.

"Don't tease me," he raised his gaze and directed Tels: "In the game of power, the grace of life is insignificant."

"You must have other reasons."

"for sure."

Thales frowned.

"why?"

The teenager silently said: "Why do you care so much?"

Morar raised his eyebrows and his expression in the moonlight was quite cold.

"Since you left it desperately six years ago, you have left the whole city of Longyan," Taylors continued. "After six years, why should you care about my reasons?"

Morar was silent for a while.

"Don't care about everything, just leave it, is it?"

He smiled a little blankly: "Do you know that Morar is still alive?"

"It's really... sad."

Morar muttered.

Tyres did not speak immediately. He observed the other side and took the expression and reaction of the former Prince Exter into the eye.

But Morar immediately turned his eyes back to Tyres: "But you still have no explanation, why should you let me go."

Taylors pouted.

This guy……

" Six years ago, I went to Exeter, Moral because of your ‘death’.”

"I know everything about you."

He sighed softly: "I know that you are studying martial arts with Nicholas and watching the wrists of King Nunn in the Palace of the Spirit. I know that you and Conkette Pfeiffer are friends, and I know that you are tired of political battles. I have dreamed of being a mercenary since I was a child."

As soon as this was said, Morar was expressionless.

But Taylors is inexplicably upset.

But the arrow is on the string, I have to send it. He presses the restlessness of his heart and says: "I even know that you have a low status, maybe a lover of the flesh business. I also know that Nunn is very dissatisfied with her, and you are doing this. A big fight - just on the eve of your plan to go south."

Morar raised his brow.

"But I didn't ask why you left your status as a prince and left home," Taylors fixedly looked at him: "Why do you have to ask me why I let you go?"

"Take it," said Teres, screaming: "Freedom to live outside, isn't it?"

Morar did not speak for a long time.

He looked at Taylor's eyes and made the latter quite uncomfortable.

"My identity has been exposed," finally, the bald-headed mercenary of the status quo has slowly opened his lips: "And some people know that Morar is still alive."

"So I have to know why you are looking for me."

"If you are really a friend of the female grandfather, then you have no reason to let me go - unless this is the next trap."

His eyes are burning and alert.

A faint uneasiness rushed into my heart, and Tyres frowned and sighed.

Wandering for six years, the prince who is alone...

"Because of Lombard."

Tyres finally made up his mind, and he nodded: "If you kill you, Rumba has one less ill-health, and he can continue his rule with impunity."

"But I don't want him to be too stable: we are enemies."

Taylor looks at Morar:

"Let him know that you are still alive, helping to make the self-righteous king of the scorpion converge, keep taboo and measure."

"It also helps to keep his claws away from Longyan City - as you said, Selma is my friend."

"That's it."

"is that enough?"

Morar’s eyes have changed.

He lowered his head and, if he realized it, slowly nodded.

"So, it is Lombard, our dear new king."

"It is him who knows that Morar is still there."

Morar seems to be in meditation: "And he told you, I hope you can help him, help him go deep into the stars of the site, completely clear me."

"This can explain a lot of things - and where did he know it?"

Taylors raised his brow again.

"That doesn't matter."

A hint of urgency hit his heart, he bit his teeth: "Now, let's go."

"Disappear."

"Before I change my mind."

In the next second, Morar raised his head abruptly.

"Then you, Your Royal Highness," Morar's expression was very serious, his eyes were brilliant, and he was stunned: "After letting me go?"

"You will return to the garrison of the camp to find your army and soldiers, and even find the secret..."

He tempted and asked: "Come and grab me?"

Taylors had no choice but to sigh in the bottom of his heart.

How is this guy so much?

Still more suspicious.

He really shouldn't be a mercenary.

It is suitable to be a spy.

The teenager had to be right: "I told you, I will let you go, then I will let you go."

"Don't talk about the blade camp, even the secret department will not know your existence."

Taylors took a step forward and walked to Morar, with the most serious tone: "And I will keep my promise, the promise of Tells Comet, the promise of the second prince of the stars."

"You are the son of Wang Nuen, and it is a Northlander. You know, for us, this sentence has multiple weights."

Moral stared at him for a long time.

He shook his head and slowly said: "So you will still find them and return to the arms of the stars."

Tyres slightly frowned.

He felt a little wrong.

Morar looked up and smiled in the moonlight.

"I found you very different, Tyres."

“Especially compared to others.”

He whispered: "It's very different."

Taylors stunned.

Morar, he...

I saw Morar squinting: "For example... Compared with your reputation, you are extraordinarily innocent."

"It is also exceptionally self-righteous."

Taylors is at a loss.

But the next moment, Morar put down his legs from the bed and stood up.

"Well, I am leaving."

"In any case, Your Highness," he looked down at Tyres and reached out his hand: "Thank you."

The two princes looked at each other.

a long time.

Morar’s eyes were savvy and smiling, and Tyres’ eyes were dignified and serious.

In the end, Tyres bent his lips.

The teenager raised his eyebrows and raised his hand, holding Morar’s hand.

"No, we're even," Taylors accepted the other's thanks and sighed: "You saved me in the desert..."

But the next moment -

boom!

Tyres only felt a pain in his arm and fell to the bed!

The sin of the prison river feels dangerous, and it is considered to be "a battle through the battle" by Tyres in his horror!

He instantly entered the sense of hell.

I saw Morar's footsteps flashing, pulling his right arm in an instant, coming behind the prince!

It seems that you have to completely cut his hand, crush Tyrell, and suppress it on the bed!

The horrified Tyles called for the sin of the prison river, and his right arm slammed the strength of Morar and opened his grip.

boom!

Taylor's back slammed into the bed.

The prince eagerly reached out and tried to pull out JC.

But Morar is faster than him.

I don't know when, a knife was pinched in the left hand of Morar and resisted the throat of Tells.

"Just move a finger, Dear Sir Glas..."

Morar’s expression at the moment is cold and terrible.

He pressed Tyres on the bed board, his hand was aggravated, and the cold threatened:

"Your blood will be like the group of orcs..."

"Watering the earth."

————

[PS don't listen to the author of "The Miles of the World's Overlord" is nonsense. How can we play World of Warcraft recently? It is clear that the author of "The Warlock of the Marvel World" is happy to team up to do the task. By the way, they are all in the third district Varian, and I am in another server you can't find, don't say, black The mission on the coast is almost finished. 】

Today the editor told me very seriously:

Without a sword, your chapter is too long, and the update interval is too long, so it is difficult to survive in the background of the text. I won't even break the chapter. How can I say that I am the starting point author? We started the class without you, this student! Starting today, you have a mandatory task. Divide the big chapter of six or seven thousand words into two chapters to three chapters, update!

(End of this chapter)