Kingdom’s Bloodline

The night of the 489th chapter

Cyril Falkenhaus.

Unpopular.

Tyres looked at the Duke of the West, looking at him, looking at him six years later because of more wrinkles, hair reduction, and thus more sultry appearance.

The six-year-old hostage career has given Taylors a faint sense of alienation from the people, things and things in the Star Kingdom.

However, when the image was horrible, as if the old master of the tree had appeared in front of the eyes of Thales, his sharp and squeaky voice echoed again in the prince's ear, and all the memories of the past came back at that moment.

Six years ago, Yongxing City, the country that decided the fate of Tells was a meeting, as if it was yesterday.

The cold wind outside the tower was screaming, and the singer of the single-sleeved pants was excited.

"The ruins are not close here."

Taylors tried to eliminate distractions and calmly looked at Falkenhaus.

calm.

Here is Williams, the site of the royal reserve army, he can not be against me.

Think about it. Six years ago, in the face of the emergence of the second prince, what is the position of Falkenhaus?

What is his character?

And his place is here...

Teres no change:

"So, what is it that makes people who are in a position of honor like you, come and go through a bitter and tired, dirty and confused border?"

Falkenhaus screamed, twitching his cane and approaching Tyres one by one.

"My Highness, Dear, you are really coming, you have no time to take care of..."

The horrible dry face of the other party slowly magnified in front of the eyes, letting Tyres feel uncomfortable, had to hold the dagger behind his waist, and resisted the desire to retreat.

The Duke of the West was stopped when he was one foot away from the prince, so that Taylor could see the dry skin that he seemed to hang on the bones, and the wrinkles were fine.

"Still from the beginning to the end, in the dark?"

To the prince's expectation, Cyril suddenly turned his hand and pulled the chair in front of the desk behind him, dragging a long and ugly friction on the ground.

Thrilling Taylors frowned.

"I guess your complete question should be..."

The Duke's skin smiled and didn't smile. He sat down in front of the bed of Teres, imagining the window behind him.

"When the sleepy princes in the camp were sleeping, they lost their helmets and lost their lives because of unexpected surprise attacks.

"When they go from command to logistics, from confidence to prestige, from the inside to the outside, all lose and nothing."

"When many people have lost their conditions and courage to continue to station in the blade camp, they have sneaked back and forth, ready to return home;"

"When the legendary wing returned with his royal standing army, stepping on the failure of the local aristocracy, re-enter the main blade camp;"

Tyres quietly listened to the other's narrative, followed his arm and looked at the buildings under the window:

Yesterday’s attacks and riots left the camp with scars. The traces of fire on a fortress were still in sight. A group of soldiers blocked the surrounding and stopped a crying, suspected homeowner who seemed to be commanding the cleanup.

Along the way, another lane that is not blocked by soldiers is still coming and going. Merchants, herders, mercenaries, stealing children, jealousy, jealousy, swaying and noisy, busy.

The unique vocal vocals of the Blades Camp were looming, accompanied by the silver cross double-star flag flying high on the camp gate.

Disaster and vitality, destruction and reconstruction.

It seems that nothing has happened.

However, it is a day in the blade camp.

The sharp voice of Cyril Falkenhaus is as nicknamed as his nickname, and it is disturbing with the intentional compelling tone:

"What you want to ask is, in the above case..."

Falkenhaus smiled awkwardly:

"What is it, let the old tyrants like me, who have worked tirelessly to come to the fangs with a prince sitting in the town, the meaning of the extraordinary blade camp?"

Really bad.

Cyril’s singular smile and elusive tone, answering questions and covering up the words, with his huge lethal voice and appearance, let the people of Northland who are used to the Longyan city go straight to the big door of Tyre. Sri Lanka has some headaches.

"Lord Duke, I heard about your loss and I am deeply sorry."

Tyres, who was interrupted by the meal, struggled and tried hard.

The bladed camp was attacked and Williams won.

Therefore, this is the current situation of the camp.

That is to say, the Duke of Falkenhaus, the highest in the West, rudely and violently broke into his bedroom, the purpose is...

He thought about the opening:

"I didn't think that it was an unfortunate day. Please convey my regrets to your vassals. But now, I don't think Baron Williams will be happy to see..."

But Falkenhaus interrupted him.

"I heard that you like to play chess when you are in the North."

Let's take a look at Tyres without a head.

Playing chess?

The West Duke guardian duke smiled happily:

"You know, what do I think is the most interesting thing about playing chess?"

Just as Tyres thought about how to answer in order to politely end the conversation and safely drop off the guest, Cyril suddenly stunned his left hand, and his crutches ended at the end!

"Boom!"

The long sword tied to the cane trembled with one.

Before Taylors realized that the other person was just looking for a place to hold the crutches, he had subconsciously held his breath and bent over the dagger behind his waist.

The Falkenhaus, who held the crutches, did not notice the appearance of Tyres as an enemy.

Instead, he smiled and leaned forward, leaning his knees forward, and the skinny figure pressed against the prince sitting on the bed.

"That is... there is no scorpion in the game."

"The two sides of the game can see, see clearly, understand every child, every cell, every step."

Tyres finally adjusted his breathing and began to think about each other's words.

Cyril, who had been staring at him, suddenly reached out and clasped the plate on the desk.

The Duke put the rich plate on his lap firmly, grabbed a grilled fish that seemed to have a lot of spices, and opened his broken teeth, not following the usual dining etiquette. I don't care if this is the prince's meal.

It was a burst of eyebrows.

"So, let's stop pretending to be invisible. - Well, it tastes good. It seems to be the one that Lauten's family dedicated to me in the 'Revival Festival', which was brought in by the Shepherd River."

Cyril chewed the bones of the fish in his mouth and nodded his head.

Don't pretend that you can't see the board...

Staring at the face of the other side's lethality, the kind of thorns in the back of the discomfort once again climbed on the heart of Taylors.

"His Duke, what do you want to say?"

The prince is no longer perfunctory, but looks at the Duke with dignity.

Cyril smiled and looked like an ugly face bursting.

He chewed and held half of the grilled fish in his hand and pointed to Tyres:

"To save a seemingly important guard."

Cyril looked out the window and looked at the blade camp after a mess in the night, with a rare chill in his eyes:

"A chess player sacrificed a knight generously."

"But I never thought that the knight was killing: it ran rampant in the battle, and eventually upgraded to prime minister, and ate the opponent's numerous steps, swordsmen, shields, knights and even stonets."

Cyril no longer eats, his eyes reveal dangerous meaning:

"Teach me, Taylors, in this game, between the knight and the guard..."

"Who do the players want to sacrifice and who want to save?"

Chess board.

Chess player.

knight.

Guard.

Tyres is a headache.

I am accustomed to the rough and old Yingling Palace, and I am used to the heroic and northern people of the North. In front of this, the Duke of the West, the Duke of the West, is very uncomfortable. Next, even the famous re-construction tower of the Grand Duke of Ludida is inferior.

The prince could only sigh and try not to look at the grilled fish that had been bitten by the other hand:

"Sorry, my chess is not good, just a leisure time."

Cyril smirked, and the ugly and dry face waved:

"Hah, you don't care."

He leaned forward again, his left hand to Tyres, and his tone turned cold:

"But you should care."

The change in the other's awkward attitude made Taylors puzzled.

The Duke of Falkenhaus immediately grabbed the right-handed grilled fish and shook it in front of the taylor.

"Like you don't care about this fish, I don't care about this fish."

"but……"

Under the discoloration of Tyres, Cyril bit the fish head and tore it from the roast fish, bringing a crisp sound.

Tyres looked at the grilled fish and only felt a discomfort.

Cyril chewed and stared at Tyres coldly, shaking his head without the grilled fish on his head:

"It's own, you should still care."

The look of Thales is dignified.

He has faced a lot of high-ranking opponents, many of whom have their own unique momentum - such as the powerful and powerful Lumbar, and the singer, such as the sneak peek. The uneasy Count of Brisbane.

No matter where they appear, even if they just sit quietly in the corner of the room, you can't ignore their existence.

However, Cyril Falkenhaus seems to be special. He describes the savage and horrible person, and his posture is almost wretched. Even when he looks at the person, he maintains a squint of the neck and gives the first impression. The impression contained a lot of discomfort and awkwardness, and his sharp and unpleasant voice made people frown, and wished to ignore him.

With Cyril's movements changing, tone ups and downs, eyes drifting, there is always a casual moment, this dry old man will give you a sense of danger like a mans in the back, chilling.

Just like combing a pile of straw, I am always worried about whether the next moment will be hidden by the barbs and tie the fingers.

It is like a horror film that slowly renders the atmosphere, accumulates emotions, and gets better.

For example, now.

Tyres strives to skip the shadow of the bottom of his heart, and can only choose the method that Northlanders are most accustomed to.

"His Duke, I am very grateful to you for visiting me, and I know that Falkenhaus has made a lot of contributions on my way back to China..."

"But believe me, I really don't know anything about you and the Baron of the Barracks about the camp's 'game". I just accidentally get involved and I can't do anything. As for anything else, I believe..."

Cyril's face was cold and cold.

"I still remember six years ago."

The duke put down the grilled fish and stared at him as if to pull the soul of Tells out of his body.

"When you are at the conference in the country, regardless of the face of your ‘狡狐’ teacher, when you are arrogant.”

Tyres thought.

Cyril’s words reminded Taylor that he once remembered:

"The stubborn one-eyed dragon suppresses you, and you will turn your back and bite back; the little girl of Iris ignores you, you will stand by and move, and the blow will be fatal; the short-sighted nobles will not respect you, you will remember your heart and return it a hundred times."

"Speaking is pungent, the words are mean, and the wind is on the head, and it is unreasonable."

The Duke of the West said that the expression of this words is very interesting, both like a little expectation of appreciation, and it seems to be a playful banter.

Thales remembered that at the meeting of the country, when he was a child, he and the princes were in a tit-for-tat situation, and he also remembered what Gilbert had said to him later.

The prince sighed with a little sigh:

"I was just a child at the time."

"If you are offended, I am young and frivolous, ignorant and fearless..."

Falkenhaz took the lead and interrupted him again:

"It's a piece of chess that is not to be manipulated."

At this moment, Cyril’s eyes are sharp:

"In order to break free, even if you face the endless stars in the high, you dare to try the edge."

This sentence is quite profound, and it is said that Taylors can't help.

Having said that, Cyril turned his head and spit out the chewed fish in his mouth.

The forceful look is not like throwing a fishbone, but it is like cutting a particularly difficult firewood.

"I have to say that at that time you are more in line with my taste, more..."

The duke turned his head and pulled out a handkerchief to wipe his mouth and hands, revealing a useful look:

"Cute."

Taylors took a deep breath.

He vaguely understood the other side's extraneous voice.

So he doesn't want to listen anymore.

"Let's see you now."

Cyril looked at him slyly, looking up and down, as if watching the prostitute at the party with the wine:

"Moderate and courteous, and the appearance is calm."

"Put the blade into the sheath, put the fangs in your mouth, and hide the claws back into the palm," the sharp voice of the West Duke filled the room:

"Is it unfortunate?"

Taylors raised his gaze and looked directly at Cyril.

He is not interested in accompanying this singularly old man who is full of yin and yang.

"Maybe this is right."

"My teacher told me," the prince said:

“The wise man is very less eloquent.”

Unfortunately, he has not been able to do it.

Taylor sighed in his heart.

The second prince has a calm tone and implicitly refuses:

"And I believe that we are not fools."

Falkenhaus smiled again.

His laughter was extraordinarily long, even to the point where the patience of Tyres was impatient.

Cyril stopped laughing and faintly opened:

"Good, at least, you should not repeat the mistakes of Hayman."

Taylor did not react for a moment:

"Who?"

Cyril looked around this room, laughing and screaming like a stormy wind:

"As a diplomat, he is very handsome, courtesy is perfect, talks loudly, and wit, so that everyone who wants to speak loudly in front of him is self-defeating and swearing."

"So he can always get the most benefit from the three-inch tongue in the negotiations."

"No matter who you are facing."

Hayman?

Tyres’s heart was stalking, and he subconsciously glanced at the corner of his carry-on baggage—his four uncles, Heyman’s comet’s letter was there.

Why do you want to mention him?

Just because it is... Ghost Prince Tower?

I remembered that this was another battleship of the comet, and the bed that I had lie on might be the other person who slept before dying, and Tyres was blocked.

"But without any disadvantage, he built a high wall in his heart and rejected everything with a polite smile and clever words."

It’s strange that Cyril’s expression has become deep and slightly fascinating, which has dispelled many of the haze brought by his horrible face:

"Whether it is the flattering slang of the vassal, or the friend's reckless loyalty."

"So he paid the price."

This sentence makes Taylor's attention highly concentrated.

What do you mean?

Pay the price?

"Do you know Prince Hayman - my uncle?"

But Falkenhaus did not answer him.

The rulers of the Westland slowly turned around and looked at the narrow top-floor room, rubbing the legs on the ground, making an unpleasant muffled sound.

"I still remember that night."

Looking at the furnishings in the room, Cyril Falkenhaus snorted, it was ironic or emotional:

"That night."

Taylors saw a trace of darkness from the eyes of the other horrible person.

"When I arrived, I only saw him lying quietly on the ground, full of blood, and could not speak."

"The camp alarms were overwhelming, and the soldiers under the tower were horrified. His guards yelled at me. The violent attendant officer took the standing army to hunt down all the living people in the 100 feet, and even cut down several local aristocrats on the spot."

"The guilt is on the verge of death, the royal army and the local recruits and even the mercenaries are fighting against each other. There are several conflicts and countless casualties. The Baron Luman and I mediate with little effect, and everyone is nervous and panicked."

That night.

Tyres immediately realized what the other party was talking about.

The Duke of Cyril seemed to ignore the existence of the tes, but slowly observed the room that once belonged to the ghost prince.

"The munitions warehouse, the supply warehouse, the bones of the bones, and the riots in other places soon - like these days, the camp order collapsed, and we have no time to take care of it."

"In less than half an hour, the bonfire and the signal arrow came from five warning whistlees a few miles away: the orcs who could not see the end of the team and the savage people came to the night and launched an unprecedented raid. ""

"The prince is dead, implicated in the huge, standing army hate is difficult to suppress only want to attack, the lords are distracted and guarded first, the mercenaries are all self-protected."

"There is a mutual suspicion, low morale, and traitors. We have only dominated for less than a day."

Cyril turned back and looked at the house under the window, his eyes gazing.

"At the most critical moment, the departments lost contact, I was beaten, and I was smashed half a face by a **** orc. Baron Luhmann even sacrificed his life and left us after the camp was evacuated."

"If it weren't for the group of orcs that intercepted us, we lacked military discipline, and we only ran into chaos... oh."

Cyril looked at the irony and disdain and shook his head.

Taylor sighed and closed his eyes.

"But that's not the worst."

The face of the Duke of Falkenhaus is getting stiffer and stiffer, making the uncomfortable ugly and dryness into an indifferent cold and cold:

"When we retreated to the town of gift, we reorganized the defeated army and planned to send Heyman’s body together with the letter of assistance to Yongxing City... More terrible news came from the wing."

More terrible news.

Tyres has a tight heart.

"The chaos of Yongxing City, the rejuvenation of the palace, the king and the Crown Prince... both were assassinated."

Tyres listened to the other person's words and breathed slowly.

"Wang is blocked, the letter is cut off, and a large number of nobles in the city have lost news with the lords. The central part of the stars is hoarse, and our support is nowhere in sight."

Cyril looked back at Tells, his head with his chest, as if looking at the air behind Tyres:

"And this is just the beginning."

"The emergency communication from the Fort Worth is one after another, and the loss is awkward."

Cyril turned to the backlit, and looked dark in the cold wind:

"In the north, the Broken Dragon Fortress fell, the second prince was killed, and Exeter was under the pressure of the North, and it was unstoppable."

"Oriental, the third prince died in the broken bridge, he was responsible for the water supply in the town dedicated to the North-South double-line battlefield, and thus stopped."

"Southwest, the Duke of Xinghu is guilty of guilt, and the Xinghui Army, which bears the hope of the public, loses its head and breaks it. It is divided and there is no news."

The sorrow and sorrow in the Duke’s words made the prince shudder, reminding him of Gilbert’s story of his **** year.

But Taylors immediately remembered the dungeon, Sacreel's half-truth description and the confession of the royal guards, could not help but clench his fists.

"The stars are everywhere, the kingdom wants to sever, the enemy soldiers are under the city, and the royal family is gone."

"And the West, why go?"

"It’s just a meeting of the Western lords in the town of the gifted town. There are many people who have a heart and a ghost: those who have closed doors and self-defense, who have compromised the surrender, who have their own criminals, and who have private opinions, and so several."

"Compared with that, hybrids and wilderness invasions, bladed camps, and the West Frontier looting, it seems that nothing is wrong."

Cyril looked up and the chill on the ugly face shocked Taylors:

"In the temple of the sunset in the town of Enshi, listening to their meaningless quarrels, I can only be supported by people, and standing in front of Heyman’s body covered with thick cloth, he asked him silently: 'Old friends , pretty boy, where are you proud of your handsome face and wit eloquence?'"

Cyril's tone was very cold, but with a unexpected loss of Tyres.

"That's all gone," Taylors tried to comfort him, and at the same time ordered the order:

"Now, we have..."

Keckenhaus looked at the ground, his hands and knees, and slammed a word:

"So, sometimes I will regret it."

regret?

Taylors a glimpse.

Cyril looked up and his eyes flickered, his color was different:

"That night, if I didn't do that, what would happen in the future?"

Tyres is somewhat confused:

"So what? What?"

Cyril sneered and put the plate back to the desk.

He stared back at Tyres, as if he had changed back to the ridiculous, ridiculously ridiculous Duke:

"That night, if I was not in private, put the Assassin of Shadow Shield into the camp..."

"Put it in front of Hayman..."

At that moment, the heart of Taylors jumped a beat.

It seems as if the hairs of the whole body are upside down.

The assassin of the Shadow Shield...

Put in...

Cyril secluded:

"What about the **** year?"

Everything is still.

It is as if the sin of the prison river has once again worked.

Only the fierce wind outside the window reminds him of the passage of time.

Tyres seemed to be frozen ice sculptures, looking at each other motionless.

In front of his eyes, the horrible West Duke guardian, Cyril Falkenhaus does not laugh, does not say, does not mean, does not stab, just quietly watching him, very calm.

The cold wind outside the window increased again, and the robes of Falkenhaus continued to tremble.

On the robes, the representative of the Falkenhaus family, with four eye-catching skull marks, is inconspicuous and embarrassing.

Just like living up.

God knows how much effort Tyres used to press the desire to call Yodel or pose a battle.

God knows.

After a long while, Tyres solemn, dignified, difficult and hostile to say a word:

"you?"

Cyril sitting on the chair leaned back on the chair and raised his eyes:

"I."

The tone is calm and the posture is safe.

Taylors took a deep breath.

Both of them were still for a few seconds, only the wind was still there.

Until Cyril showed a satisfactory expression.

"well."

The duke straightened up, his face, which was as dry as wood and bloody, finally revealed a rare and solemn silence:

"We finally started talking."

I heard that everyone has finished school and went to school, then I will update it happily (the pitch is getting higher)~

(End of this chapter)