Kingdom's Bloodline

Chapter 602 Rebellion (Part I)

"When countless new aristocrats yearn for more power, status and benefits, but can no longer find a big goal like ours, they can't find an enemy for them to plunder, when they can ask for..."

[Hello everyone, I am the anti-theft chapter you have missed for a long time. 】

[Change back to the text after dinner, and the App user returns to the shelf and clicks again]

It was still the Duke's exclusive words with a bitter tone, but Thales no longer felt the slightest wit and humor.

Boom!

Cyril's cane slammed hard.

I saw the guardian duke of the Western Wilderness blocking the window, his figure was backlit, and his wide but empty leather robe covered him firmly like a black shadow of a solar eclipse:

"Do you think, who have lost their respect for high-ranking people and can't wait to want power, who are most likely to point the new finger at?"

"Is it up or down?"

Falkenhauser said coldly:

"Who is up and who is down?"

"And what will happen up, what will happen down?"

up.

down.

Unknowingly, Thales had firmly grasped the JC dagger stuck on the bedside in his left hand.

Any change has a price.

The boy thought dreamily.

Some of the price may not be obvious at the time, but it is the same as Cyril when he talked about chess...

After a hundred steps.

Well, he, Thales Star.

Could it be that "after a hundred steps"?

"Not to mention that these are all your guesses..."

Thales took a deep breath, cheered up, and shook his head:

"If the trend is true, then it will not be avoided."

"Then, we will inevitably have corresponding methods, such as re-adjusting the situation and balancing interests-there will always be a better way out."

But Cyril smiled contemptuously—not his usual ridicule or sarcasm aimed at offending people, but true, heartfelt disdain.

"So you have never been a ruler..."

"Huh, do you really think that your citizens are all sincere and loyal, good people who know what to do? As long as you have a clear governance, they will live and work in peace and contentment? As long as you give them benefits, they will be satisfied, support you with gratitude and support you, even if Are you going to hell?"

Thales rolled his head and frowned.

"Repeat," the prince was choked unhappy:

"I don't like to ask rhetorically."Follow current s on novelenglish.net . Firᴇ.net

But this time, Cyril no longer followed his "rhetorical question":

"Fuck it."

The Duke of the Western Wilderness said coldly without giving face, Thales swears that he even heard the Western Wilderness accent that some local talents are used to speaking:

"This is not a face-to-face transaction, and your people are not businessmen: you hand them money, and they will give you the goods next? This is not a bar fight. You can earn your dignity and conquer your opponents with your fist alone. "

Boom!

The Duke shook his body and took a big step forward quickly. The robe that was blown by the cold wind pressed against Thales like a hunting vulture:

"This world is not that simple. It is as simple as hard work to reap, as simple as hard work and there is a return, and as simple as you work together and work hard, you will be able to benefit all the people."

"People are not so simple. It is as simple as giving favors and repaying them, letting profits be enough, severe punishments fearing them, and adding prestige to serve.

Cyril's tone was urgent and sharp, like a reprimand that hates iron for not making steel:

"Do not."

He looked at Thales, who was a little surprised, and hit the wall with his cane:

"Starting from helping my uncle and assisting in political affairs, I have ruled the Western Wilderness for more than 20 years. Trust me, your people can always give you unexpected and counterproductive feedback."

"A person may cooperate, may be loyal, or may obey, but a group of thousands of people?"

Falkenhauser snorted coldly, his eyes were cold, vigilant and alert, like facing an untouchable flame:

"A group of people, that is, a behemoth with a bottomless appetite, a shark that never satisfies, will always respond to the ruler that he did not expect and catches you off guard."

Thales was slightly stunned.

Cyril like this...

It's really not normal, at least not what it was at the conference six years ago.

If he is not acting.

Cyril turned around and gritted his teeth viciously:

"If you hate your people, they will hate you more; if you love your people, they will not necessarily love you; high-pressure authority may usher in more fierce resistance, but the benefits of benefiting the people may not bring true heart. Loyalty; good intentions, bad things, and going against one's wishes are more commonplace."

Boom. Boom. Boom.

The Duke was pacing faster and faster, and his crutches hit the ground repeatedly, making a heart-palpiting muffled accent.

"At the end of the Book of Kings, the first king to use a letter crow instead of a postman on a large scale brought unprecedented changes to the world, but he eventually died under the ridiculous crime of'playing with things, petting birds and abusers'."

"The emperor Bashir more than a thousand years ago was benevolent and drastically reformed the old system. He wanted to give shelter to his people who had nowhere to stay, but he died in depression amidst complaints and turmoil."

Listening to these historical stories that were both strange and familiar, Thales frowned.

"You mean, we are walking on an uncontrollable road, and maybe we will go to unexpected and counterproductive consequences? We can neither reverse it manually nor avoid it by turning around."

The Duke is noncommittal.

So Thales responded with a cold hum without mercy:

"Then what you just said is overwhelming and unstoppable, aren't all the worries and vigilance you said are just bullshit?"

But it seemed that Cyril was also agitated. He groaned angrily, slammed on crutches, and stopped:

"No, what I said is—"

"It is often the opposite of doing things with half the effort to count on simple and rude means to harvest direct and effective results."

He stared directly at Thales:

"Even if the purpose is correct and the direction is correct, but if the means is wrong or the method is wrong, it is very likely to be futile or even self-defeating."

"This is the problem we face-a mistake made by your father and his enemies."

The purpose is correct and the direction is correct.

Deviations in means and errors in methods.

Your father, and his enemies.

Common mistakes.

At that moment, Thales suddenly realized what Cyril meant.

And his position.

Just listen to Cyril coldly:

"The powerful ancient empire guarded the thorny land with heavy troops, and the Duke of Thorns ruled this southwestern province with an iron fist, and killed them so subdued. It seemed that the achievements of the government were remarkable and effective, which made the emperor quite amazed."

But the duke's words changed, eerie and eerie:

"However, when the time of the empire's decline came, the flag-raising rebellion was the strongest. In the end, the heads of the governor of the province and the family of the Duke of Thorns were hung on the flagpoles, and the Imperial Legion was destroyed. It was no one else who broke the territory of the empire. It was these children of the thorns! "

In the increasingly exciting brainstorming, Thales took a deep breath and leaned back against the wall:

"If I remember correctly, Falkenhausen with the four-eyed skull as its emblem, your ethnic language is'power comes from violence'?"

He whispered softly, waiting for the other's response.

Power comes from violence.

The Duke of Western Wilderness was slightly stagnant.

He was silent for a long while, until a cold wind blew.

"Correct."

The duke is faint and authentic, and there is a rare complexity in his eyes:

"But outsiders only know this sentence."

"This is the worst sentence."

With a terrifying face, Cyril stared at Thales, who did not look like a human.

Power comes from violence, the worst sentence.

"So..." Thales asked tentatively.

But Cyril Falkenhauser interrupted him unceremoniously, speaking in a cold voice, and said in a deep tone that Thales could not help but sit down:

"Power dominates interests, interests trigger conflicts, conflicts generate violence, violence brings obedience, obedience forms habit, habit creates order, and order reaffirms power."

Thales was stunned.

It’s strange that Falkenhauser, who usually has a sharp and unpleasant hoarse voice, said this time with a mellow tone, as if with a certain respect:

"This is the logic of'power comes from violence': a perfect loop that cannot be broken."

"As for the power and violence that outsiders talk about, they are just two small pieces of the puzzle."

Cyril lowered his head, squinted his eyes, and leaned on a cane, like a vulture perching on standby next to a tree:

"But too many people like to simplify and skip many steps in the middle. They think that giving benefits can win obedience, and that resorting to violence can bring power-this is the biggest problem."

"Especially those who want to change the world and change everything that people take for granted...reformers."

Power comes from violence.

Just... two pieces of the puzzle.

Falkenhauser's words caused Thales to ponder.

Cyril snorted again:

"And you know, for a group of great people who want, eager, and are the most confident and good at changing the world, what do we call them?"

Cyril’s next word caught Thales’s attention:

"Mage."

There was silence in the room for a few seconds.

Thales released the dagger in his hand, he involuntarily raised his head, trying to hide his surprise, and solemnly met the duke's equally burdened eyes:

"And do you know what they finally brought to the world?"

Cyril did not go on.

In this way, the two of them were facing each other in the ominous room on the top of the tower, with terrifying eyes on one side and puzzled on the other.

But Thales quickly got rid of the untimely question.

"Cyrillic."

"You are not here to help your vassals, stand in line for them," Thales quickly returned to his current context:

"But you are not even standing on the side of the king and surrendering to the kingdom's blood."

Thales said straightforwardly:

"Right."

He used affirmative sentences.

The two were silent for a while.

Finally, a smile appeared on Falkenhauser's face—not the habitual hypocritical smile before, but a sly, somewhat light smile.

Although it was quite horrified on his face.

"I said, don't think of me as a stubborn and obsolete antique."

The Duke exhaled a long breath, as if to make a summary of this conversation:

"Falkenhauser is not an old-fashioned person who is ignorant of current affairs. If the tide is like this and the general trend is like this, then I will never be stingy to make changes, and I will accept my destiny without any regrets."

"I also believe that no matter order or habit-it can be changed."

Before Thales looked carefully and earnestly, Cyril's eyes moved:

"But this kind of change must be step by step, point after point, drop by drop, and it's a matter of course."

"Not like this."

Cyril raised his cane and pointed out the window.

"The north has changed, and the prince returns."

The Duke said coldly:

"So, one party took advantage of the fire, threatened the king with the safety of the heir to the kingdom, and forced him to surrender control of the western front."

"The other party simply after the false and condemned snake, attacked the army, supplies, and garrisons of the lords of the Western Desolation, beat them hard, and killed them all.

Thales slowly changed his color as he listened to these two seemingly understatement, but actually thrilling words.

"Didn't you find that compared to the small under-the-counter moves like pushing the palace, putting on blame, and creating momentum six years ago, whether it is your father or the current princes, the movements of both sides are too violent."

"The irony is, do they really think that through such a so-called victory," Falkenhauser was very serious at the moment:

"Can you erase the opponent's ambition and hostility?"

Cyril waved decisively, quite imposingly.

"Do not."

This is a rare moment in Thales. He feels that the other party, as a duke, is not at all lost to the heroic and majestic princes of the Northland:

"They will only push each other worse and worse until the final step, either now or later."

Thales pursed his lips, thinking deeply.

"But you are not the head of the western lords, the leader of the group, the lord of the ruins of temperate vassals, the guardian duke of the western wilderness?"

The prince slowly spoke:

"When the game between Fuxing Palace and the ruins is placed on the chessboard around me and power, shouldn't you be responsible for it and can't make a difference in it?"

Cyril smiled.

"So you are not the king yet."

The Duke glanced diagonally at Thales:

"Do you think that at every important point in history, it is someone's will that dominates the wave?"

Cyril said coldly:

"You know, when your vassals and subordinates are in anger and all will be upright, you, standing in front of the wave, don't have much choice but to follow the trend."

Thales' brows wrinkled and tightened.

The duke is gloomy and authentic:

"Unless you want to replace the king and become the target of preventing them from regaining the glory of the past-if you don't become their leader, you become their enemy, and the first one to fall in the middle and the outside."

Thales was silent for a long time.

So, Cyril’s words mean...

The boy suddenly remembered that the country was a meeting long ago, the vote to decide whether he was an illegitimate child or an orthodox prince.

At that time, Cyril voted "yes", but his nominal vassals, two of the thirteen noble families, voted "no".

Thales took a deep breath and brought back his thoughts that got worse and worse:

"So bad?"

Cyril was also silent for a while.

"When you become a king, you will understand this better than me."

"Don't forget what I said, people will always respond to the ruler that was unexpected and caught you off guard-unfortunately, the lords of Xihuang are also within the scope of description."

Falkenhauser turned his head and glanced at him lightly:

"Of course, for your father, you and I are also within the scope of the description."

Listening to what the other party meant, Thales didn't answer.

The Duke turned his head and looked again at the gray sky outside the window:

"Drawing in civilians against the aristocracy, and unscrupulously curtailing power must have consequences-civilians are not pawns at your mercy, and nobles are not objects of sacrifice."

His voice has a long chill, as if the autumn wind is bleak:

"The feudal lords blocking the general situation are no different from seeking their own dead ends, but the Fuxing Palace may not be able to reap the desired results, and the eagerness of the two sides is even more taboo."

Thales clenched his fists.

Cyril looked at the sky of the Western Wilderness, seemingly confused, and sighed softly:

"A hundred years ago, Xianjun's chessboard was silent, gentle and stable."

"But to this day, the chessboard where your father played against them..."

The Duke of Western Wilderness paused for a few seconds.

"No, this won't end with a too good ending-the Scarlet Year will not be a dead end."

The confusion in his eyes dissipated, he returned to reality, becoming sharp and alert:

"Unless Your Majesty can slaughter all the creatures in this land and erase all the dissonance from the root - I don't know, maybe one day in the future, when the Star Kingdom can do the magic gun , The message is coming soon, and the ruler above the throne only needs to nod his head and can easily destroy the world, he might succeed."

Another cold wind hit the tower, bringing a whirr of wind.

But both of them didn't realize it.

"So this is your purpose today."

Thales pulled out the dagger stuck on the head of the bed, threw a flower in the air, and grasped the handle accurately during the turning of the blade. After numerous fights, this kind of action became more and more skillful. simple.

Cyril narrowed his eyes slightly as he watched the prince's actions.

Thales picked up the tip of the blade and pondered for a while:

"Do you want to draw me to join you and become a third party outside of the two camps. Between the whip of the rider and the hooves of the fierce horse, you can hold the wagon that runs faster and faster?"

third party.

At that moment, it was as if the clouds on the horizon blocked the sunlight, and the room dimmed.

The Duke of Western Wilderness pressed his hands on the crutch again.

"The strong horse will not succumb to the iron whip, and the rider will not give up the whipping," his eyes were sharp:

"And the person on the carriage, no matter who it is, can't sit and wait for it to fall apart."

Thales flicked the blade between his fingers.

"and so."

Thales snorted and pointed the tip of the blade to the Duke impolitely:

"All of this, including your inexplicable appearance, you're pulling out your sword to intimidate and alarmist talk, and you're talking about the elders who are very angry, just for this moment?"

Thales stared at Cyril with a smile.

Cyril looked at him for a while and hummed softly.

"Do you think I'll bring a 14-year-old kid in the street and tell him this?"

Cyril said coldly:

"If I can't confirm what kind of person you are first, if you are just an incompetent soft guy with good eyes, low greed and fear of death, if you are just an impulsive kid who has been nurtured by Yankees, if you are just reliant An idiot who thinks he knows the truth of the universe after reading the catalogues of several history books..."

Thales raised his eyebrows.

The Duke squinted at him, disdainfully said:

"Then you are not worthy of me to say so much."

The teenager was slightly surprised.

Thales exhaled and tucked the dagger back under the pillow:

"You know, if you want to compliment me, you can actually use some better words."

The Duke of Xihuang opened his lips, which seemed to be missing a piece of flesh, and gave a gloomy smile, speaking like a corpse.

"Don't worry, there will be no shortage of beautiful words in your ears. The return of the prince is the most important thing that shakes the stars, and countless lights will focus on you."

Cyril narrowed his eyes:

"But you have to be more careful and vigilant."

"The powerful aristocratic lords will rush to find you, win over the prince who has not returned to the country for a long time, and try their best to win you to their side and turn you into a vanguard against the Fuxing Palace."

Falkenhauser's tone changed:

"Before accepting their kindness, please remember: They are only opposed to your father, but they are by no means true to you."

Thales was silent.

He suddenly remembered the fast rope.

[The shackles of power. 】

How does he achieve... a different way of living?

Thinking of this, Thales took a deep breath and raised his head:

"They will not succeed."

But Cyril shook his head in disdain:

"When I say'winner', I mean more than just knocking on the door and giving gifts."

Thales frowned and sneered:

"Of course, maybe it also includes drawing a sword to intimidate, and then telling me'can't the carriage fall apart'?"

This time it was Cyril's turn to be silent.

After a few seconds, the Duke said quietly:

"You know, some words can only be nonsense to most people in the world."

Telston was at a loss.

Cyril hummed softly:

"Remember what I said today."

He stretched out his finger and shook his mouth:

"All."

Cyril's eyes glowed coldly:

"What if you can use it someday."

He paused for a second, and raised his lips somewhat evilly:

"All."

Thales stared at the Duke like this, feeling uncomfortable.

But Cyril quickly changed the subject:

"You have to be more careful with your father than these."

father.

Thales' nerves slowly tightened.

The strong figure in his mind reappeared, reminding him of the suffocation when facing each other.

The duke’s voice echoed in his ears, with a different meaning:

"As you get older, maybe he will realize that you are no longer the poor child, maybe he will try to win over you as a father and control you with the power of the king."

"but……"

Falkenhauser's tone changed again, but he suddenly fell silent, and the surroundings seemed to have entered a cloudy sky for an instant, raining before rain.

He stared at Thales closely, his horrible face and cold eyes, making him feel tight.

"When Exter changed drastically six years ago, when King Nunn VII passed away and news of the political reshuffle in the North came to the stars, everyone was shocked."

The duke's tone and rhythm became heavy and slow, reminding Thales of Putila when he was telling the bard:

"Who would have thought that a few months ago, our old bones were still in panic for the rest of the day, lest the jealous Yankees go south again."

Cyril exhaled slightly and pointed at Thales:

"But some people, some people just took a single tap, and stabbed the impossibly powerful and aggressive dragon kingdom into a riddled state, and was overwhelmed by it."

"Do you know what that means?"

Tyrannical, aggressive...

Full of flaws, overwhelmed...

What does it mean?

Thales couldn't help thinking of the nightmare in Longxiao City.

Dragon blood.

He looked at Cyril who was pointing at him, and unnaturally cleared his throat:

"You look at me too high."

The prince sighed:

"Six years ago, it was just an accident, and even more of a tragedy, and I had no credit for it..."

Cyril interrupted him coldly: "I didn't say it was your credit."

"Be less affectionate."

Thales was choked by these words, and his face became quite ugly.

The unpopular Duke snorted coldly:

"As I said, from the battle of the end to the **** year, Falkenhauser has followed the stars since ancient times."

He pointed to the ancient imperial sword leaning against the wall.

"In the past seven hundred years, the alerter has witnessed a lot of history," Cyril was extremely solemn:

"More than you think."

Thales felt Cyril's cold eyes, and an ominous hunch struck.

"So I know."

Just listen to Lord Duke whispered:

"The so-called'disaster comes to the world' in Longxiao City is definitely not an accident or a rare coincidence."

Disaster came to the world.

It's no accident.

At that moment, Thales pressed his thigh tightly.

Fortunately, Cyril did not look at him again.

The Duke paced to the window and looked at the camp quietly:

"Although they are cleverly concealed and blurred each time they appear, rendered and whitewashed, and then stretched out over time, they will eventually become hearsay and bedtime stories of passersby..."

"But I know they exist and they are real."

Exist, and real.

Thales let out a sigh of relief.

He breathed deeply, covering up the emotional changes.

Cyril's voice became sharper and more urgent:

"And every time they appear, they are inseparable from our world."

The next moment, the guardian duke of the Western Wilderness suddenly turned around, his eyes shot at Thales directly!

"No matter what happens in Longxiao City, it is your father who did it."

He categorically said:

"He and Morat's old viper, somehow."

It was your father who did it.

Thales quietly looked back at the other party, enduring the **** memories that rolled back and forth in his mind.

But no matter how he ignored it, he couldn't help but think of those pictures:

The blue light in Ashida's eyes, the purple lines on Giza's face, the tears between the little slicked head and cheeks, the scarred body of the black sword, the weird mouth on Raphael's arm.

as well as……

The head of King Nunn falling on the ground.

"Your father's chessboard is cold and merciless, and you don't know how he will go next."

"Is it ignoring the rules or overturning the board."

At this time, the duke's face was serious and his tone was cold:

"Child, be strong."

"Don't become a chess piece that is arbitrarily manipulated and sacrificed."

Do whatever you want.

Sacrifice at will.

Feeling the obvious provocation from the other party, Thales took a deep breath and then slowly exhaled it.

"I am his heir, and my interests are consistent with him."

The prince's tone was quite refusing.

"My safety is related to the stability of his rule."

"And he is my father."

But this is just another ridicule of Cyril:

"Who knows."

Duke Falkenhaus said coldly:

"Four hundred years ago,'King of Ascending' Elan Canxing I once killed his sons and sacrificed to gods in order to pray for victory."

Kill the son and sacrifice to the gods.

Thales' breathing stagnated, and his fists were clenched.

The Duke looked into the distance with a long tone:

"And every day, your father is creating new history."

Thales closed his eyes.

"Your father and his enemies..."

"Six years ago, because of your appearance, the first round was divided."

"But six years later, from the day you return home, the second round will begin."

The duke’s tone was a little scary:

"And that will never be easier."

(End of this chapter)