Chapter 619: Aftermath

Renaissance Palace, Elan Courtyard.

"This is an ancient imperial sword."

In the courtyard, Vanguard Officer Marico passed between two rows of stern-faced royal guards. Holding the hilt in one hand and supporting the blade with the other, he carefully examined the unfamiliar longsword before him.

"Two thousand years ago, Komora Caloser the Great Emperor forged them to reward meritorious subjects of the ancient empire."

"Hey, hey, hey, take it easy!"

A complaint came from behind him. Marico frowned and looked back.

Between the two rows of royal guards, Kohen knelt on the ground, bruised and swollen, his hands and feet bound. He raised his head unwillingly.

"That's my family's ancestral sword!"

Beside him, Doyle, who was likewise trussed up, bumped Kohen.

"Shut up."

He gritted his teeth, worriedly glanced at Marico, and looked like he hated iron for not becoming steel.

"We're already like this. Can you stop provoking him?"

Kohen was unconvinced and about to retort, but out of the corner of his eye, he glanced around. Wya, Glover, Ralf, and the others were all tied up, slumped on the ground in miserable condition, watched closely by unfriendly guards.

The security officer's momentum immediately shrank. He whispered indignantly to Doyle,

"Damn it, you told me we were only coming to add some presence..."

"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 sword target for practice..."

"You call this joking?"

"Weren't you the one who moved first at the palace gate? That headbutt of yours..."

"It wasn't me! I was only standing in front pretending to be fierce, then someone kicked me from behind..."

Marico's voice suddenly came.

"Family sword?"

His footsteps came closer and closer. Kohen and Doyle instantly stopped speaking, tacitly lowering their heads together.

"Yes," Kohen said softly.

"My old man warned me over and over..."

Doyle bumped him again.

Marico stopped beside them and laughed softly.

"It is said that ancient swords themselves possess special power, an indescribable wonder."

Marico examined and caressed the Weightbearer from every angle, his gaze slowly becoming fascinated.

"Of course, the meritorious subjects who opened territories for the empire and conquered the world were all seasoned experts who had fought a hundred battles. If the Great Emperor wanted to reward them, how could he use ordinary weapons and common iron?"

Kohen and Doyle looked at one another.

Marico gently stroked the mysterious jewel on the hilt.

"Legend says they can spontaneously draw energy and substance from blood, soil, air, water, even from steel that clashes against them, sharpening their edges and strengthening their bodies. Thus dust cannot stain them, water cannot rust them, blood cannot corrode them, and battle cannot break them."

"The weapon itself is more like it has life and memory. Even if it bends or deforms slightly, as long as there is enough time, it can restore itself."

"A hundred years does not dull its edge. A thousand years does not alter its form."

Kohen froze. He looked at the sword he knew so well and burst out laughing.

"A thousand years doesn't--ha, it's not that miraculous. I take it to the blacksmith every month for maintenance. Though Master Jedi in the tower did say, 'This sword's pretty durable'--"

At this point, Kohen's expression changed. He looked suspiciously at Marico.

"R-really?"

Marico's gaze drifted far away.

"In the Great Emperor's eyes, only an immortal divine weapon could match immeasurable merit and eternal loyalty."

Kohen frowned.

Then that monthly maintenance...

Bad. Did Karak cheat me again? And those crooked merchant blacksmiths at Blade Fangs Camp...

"Time passed, years changed. Amid war and chaos, they scattered throughout the world, yet they remain rare divine weapons."

Marico ran his hand along the Weightbearer's spine, thoughtful.

"They are passed down generation after generation, never dulling or decaying, using the sword to examine the person and reveal loyalty and sincerity."

"They tell us descendants of the empire of the empire's former golden age."

Kohen and Doyle exchanged glances again.

Marico exhaled.

"A long time ago, my ancestors also possessed such a sword. Until the Red King's tyranny, when our family declined and had no choice but to sell ancestral property to rebuild our fortunes."

Kohen made an "oh" sound, but then thought of something and his expression changed dramatically.

"Th-then that absolutely wasn't this one!"

"See what I told you?" Doyle whispered beside him, furious and flustered. "Marico loves collecting weapons..."

Vanguard Officer Marico gave a cold snort and let the Weightbearer strike heavily against the ground.

"Too heavy. It doesn't suit me."

Only then did Kohen show a relieved smile.

"I've heard of you, Kohen Karabeyan, the Twin-Tower Longsword from Wolla Territory. Wisdom on the left, longsword to the right?"

Hearing his family's motto, Kohen frowned.

Marico's gaze flickered.

"Perhaps you don't know, but five generations ago, before we changed our surname to Marico to avoid disaster, our family trees once intersected."

Intersected?

Kohen was dazed for a while. Before he could reply, Doyle's eyes lit up beside him and he popped his head out.

"Oh? Then that's great. By the way, actually Doyle and Karabeyan also intersect, which means the three of us are all--"

But Marico did not even look at him. He merely lifted the heavy sword again.

"As a noble, having no great ambition is not in itself a great mistake."

"But I thought you only had trouble with street thieves," Marico said coldly, "not that you were foolish enough to break into the palace and rebel, royal knight Kohen Karabeyan."

"R-rebel?"

Kohen was startled and forced a smile.

"Misunderstanding, misunderstanding. I came to, uh, you know, do that... have you ever been in a group fight? Two people face each other and shout threats, while two hundred people stand on both sides to build momentum, yelling wildly but somehow not actually fighting..."

"Twenty people."

But Marico did not listen to him at all. His tone was icy.

"When you broke into the palace, there were twenty guards on duty, all good men from the Vanguard Wing and Guard Wing, young men with bright futures."

"Facing the arrogance and tyranny of the powerful, they neither humbled themselves nor acted arrogantly. They performed their duty with loyalty. Even when beaten and injured by you, they remained firm and unyielding, defending the palace."

Kohen froze and said anxiously,

"That was a misunderstanding. I really wasn't the first to move..."

Marico snorted angrily, his dissatisfaction deepening.

"To you, of course it is a tiny, harmless misunderstanding."

"But to them..."

Marico's hand tightened further around the sword hilt.

"'The late king's death came from this.' That was His Majesty's comment."

As soon as these words came out, the gazes of the surrounding royal guards sharpened further.

"It will be recorded by the Banner Wings in the service histories of those twenty brothers, follow them their whole lives, and be passed down in the history of the guards."

The more Marico spoke, the angrier he became.

"Not only did they suffer such extraordinary humiliation, they must also bear others' blame afterward. The royal family cannot be wrong, so today's matter can only be their fault. They will carry the crime of overstepping, the error of dereliction, and the fear of having 'offended the prince.' They will be uneasy all day, punishment undecided, future unclear."

"All because of... you."

Marico looked at Kohen, whose smile had stiffened, and gritted his teeth.

"Domineering, arrogant, bullying others by relying on power, lawless. You made Renaissance Palace foul and chaotic, shaming and humiliating the royal guards."

When his voice fell, Marico turned his arm, and the Weightbearer spun once in the air, neatly returning to its sheath.

But when the sheath came back, its end strangely struck Kohen's lower abdomen.

Bang!

Hit by this blow, Kohen fell painfully to the ground, slurring,

"Fuck yer..."

"Sorry. An accident while sheathing the sword."

Marico said coldly, adjusting the Weightbearer.

"Who told it to be so heavy?"

The captives stirred.

"Ah, ah, ah," Doyle beside him said anxiously.

"Well, the prince breaking the law and commoners alike--ptui, ptui, I mean, the prince breaking the law has nothing to do with commoners..."

But those words made Marico snort angrily.

"Of course. You borrowed the tiger's might and relied on your master's power."

"So not only do you have to pay nothing, you merely need to shamelessly smile and play along. Right after, a great person like the Minister of Foreign Affairs comes to pull strings and pass messages for you, openly and secretly threatening me not to use private punishment..."

Marico looked at Kohen, curled on the ground enduring pain, and his breathing gradually quickened.

"Yet in the entire kingdom, from top to bottom, no one dares offend your incomparably noble master."

"Because no matter how reckless and absurd he is, no matter how many people he harms or how great the disaster he causes, His Majesty will still tolerate and forgive him."

"He will still swagger out with his head held high, point at my nose, and demand I let you go, letting you continue outside the law as if nothing happened. Afterward, we will even have to unify our statements to protect his reputation."

The more Marico spoke, the more miserable he sounded. In the end, he laughed mockingly.

"And the captain will also say, 'Bearing weight for the royal family is our responsibility.'"

The vanguard officer looked at Kohen at his feet, his gaze cold.

"I know this world is unfair."

"But it should not be like this."

Kohen coughed several times and finally recovered somewhat.

"Look, I understand you," the security officer grimaced.

"But if you fuck with me one more time, one more..."

Doyle, who had been frantically signaling him to shut up, painfully closed his eyes.

Marico laughed coldly. This time, he did not hide it at all, raising the Weightbearer and aiming it at Kohen.

Kohen was unafraid, gritting his teeth as he looked at him.

"You say it nicely, but what you're best at..."

A heavy voice sounded at the proper moment.

"isn't it just moving yourself first, then self-righteously taking sides?"

That voice laughed coldly and deliberately dragged out the tone.

"Vincent Marico, Big-Dick Bro?"

As soon as this was said, everyone froze first, then their expressions turned strange.

Big... what?

Marico's expression changed. He turned away from Kohen and looked toward another captive.

"Even if you've never heard it to your face, you should know at least a little," said Glover, covered in wounds and miserable in appearance, lifting his head from the other side with a cold laugh. "I don't know about the other wings, but people in the Vanguard Wing all call you that in private."

"Because no matter what conflict or argument there is in the Vanguard Wing, you always like to be the first to stand up, pretend to be big brother, preside over justice, spout reason, and strike poses. What, you think as long as your dick is big enough, everyone will stick out their asses and let you stab, and that after going in and out, everyone will feel real good?"

As soon as this was said, the entire Elan Courtyard went silent.

Quite a few royal guards could not help glancing at Marico.

But Marico did not speak. He merely stared fixedly at Glover, nostrils flaring.

Among the captives, Wya sighed and bumped Doyle with his backside.

"I thought you were the one who could talk the most. Sorry, forgot your butt was injured."

Doyle likewise stared at the Zombie in surprise, as if meeting him for the first time.

"Yet you don't know shit."

Glover painfully shifted his bound arms and shouted at Marico,

"Every time you come out spouting bullshit to fool yourself, the words are worse than the shit your mother's little lover sprayed when your father fucked him between the legs into the sky."

The Zombie spat fiercely.

"Big-Dick Bro."

The surroundings fell silent again.

"By the Sunset," Doyle whispered, unable to believe it.

"Where did he learn all that trash talk?"

Only after a very, very long time did Marico take a deep breath, suppress his emotions, and step forward.

"Jaron Glover. 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 at all?"

Glover snorted coldly and did not answer.

Marico looked at him with a complicated gaze.

"You were originally outstanding among the Vanguard Wing. Noble family, excellent ability, boundless future. For a time, I thought you were different from those dandies who entered the guards only to gild themselves and pad their records."

Doyle, listening from the side, froze. Why did Marico glance at me when he said that?

Marico came beside Glover, his gaze turning cold.

"Until you couldn't control your lower body and fell into prostitution."

Prostitution?

As soon as this was said, the gazes of all captives, including many royal guards, shot toward Glover. Kohen first nodded subconsciously, then realized something and hurriedly joined everyone else in squeezing out a shocked expression.

Only Doyle was startled.

"You, you're really not gay?"

A trace of anger appeared on Glover's face.

"Originally, I didn't want to say too much. After all, the matter was suppressed." Marico raised his brows.

"But yes, I know. The reason you were removed and driven out of the Vanguard Wing was because, while visiting prostitutes on Red Street..."

Kohen nodded with lingering fear.

Glover could not help roaring angrily,

"What the fuck does that have to do with you?"

Many people in Elan Courtyard were hearing it for the first time and frowned.

Marico laughed softly, his expression gradually cooling.

"How many times?"

The second vanguard officer questioned him.

"First-class Vanguard Officer Jaron Glover, how many times did you, on payday, take your money and slip off to Red Street, then return at dawn empty-pursed and exhausted?"

"How many times did you lie to my face during Vanguard Wing roll call and formation, saying your poor condition was because you hadn't slept well?"

"And what was the name of that brothel you often visited? What club?"

With every sentence Marico spoke, Glover's expression worsened, until the latter finally could not endure it.

"I just like whoring! So what?"

"So what? So what?" Marico said coldly.

"Just because a colleague ordered the prostitute you liked, you held a grudge and plotted revenge, finally causing a great disaster and ruining your future."

Kohen's mind turned, feeling that one point sounded somewhat familiar.

Glover thought of something, his face turning savage.

"They deserved it."

"I know Menendez was scum," Marico said coldly. "I also know you had an old grudge with him, and even guessed he was the one who set the trap first to provoke you."

"But so what? Were you truly stupid enough to obediently take the bait? Did you have so much heroism with nowhere to put it that a few women chirping in your ear made you lose your mind?"

Glover's eyes trembled, and he clenched his fists tightly.

"Vanguard Officer Glover, you willingly degraded yourself, plotted against colleagues, maimed comrades. All of this, all fucking because of pillow talk from a few prostitutes?"

Everyone, captives and guards alike, was astonished, looking toward Glover one after another.

Facing countless gazes, the Zombie trembled all over.

But in the end, he still suppressed his emotions and laughed coldly.

"Have you tasted women? Of course not. Big-Dick Bro is too big. No one can fit it. How pitiful."

Marico froze.

Glover lifted his head, his smile provocative.

"I'll tell you, for that taste, I could kill ten more Menendezes."

Marico's face filled with anger.

"He has already been punished. Thanks to you, Menendez will spend the rest of his life in bed."

Glover turned his head and spat.

"He got lucky. In the original plan, he was supposed to spend it in the ground."

His indifferent attitude provoked Marico. The latter looked at him for a very, very long time before finally sighing and shaking his head.

"I tried to help you."

Marico said in disappointment.

"Before the incident, I covered for you in the Vanguard Wing. I only hoped Officer Staley wouldn't discover so soon that you were obsessed with prostitution."

"I visited your elder brother many times, hoping he could persuade you with brotherly affection, help you recognize your error and turn back."

The two met eyes, and Glover frowned tightly.

"I never asked you to do that."

Marico shook his head.

"Now it seems you were sunk in obsession, with no regret at all."

"After the incident, I should never have gone to Officer Adrian and Officer Staley, much less visited the victims and asked them to spare your life so you could atone through service," the vanguard officer shook his head in disappointment. "It would have been better to follow guard practice and deal with you while you were still in the confinement well."

Glover's gaze froze.

He grew even angrier, saying word by word,

"I. Never. Asked you. To do that!"

Marico's expression did not change. The Weightbearer turned in his hand, and its sheath struck Glover's abdomen.

Amid everyone's cries of surprise, Glover fell painfully to the ground.

"You, you made the Vanguard Wing the greatest joke in Renaissance Palace. The Banner Wings are still watching us to this day, all because of that rare malignant internal conflict in the guards."

Marico paced around him.

"And not only do you show no regret, you climb power and attach yourself to influence, escape responsibility, and even have the face to come back and make chaos in the palace."

"Making the entire imperial guard suffer shame because of you."

Glover endured the pain and raised his head.

"Yo, Big-Dick Bro?" The battered Zombie still forced out a smile and mocked him.

"That poke was so soft. Did you forget your aphrodisiac?"

Marico's gaze chilled.

"Ancient imperial swords are easy to maintain and durable."

The second vanguard officer said coldly,

"But if the blade suffers irreversible damage, shatters and breaks, and has no choice but to be reforged, the power stored within it will be changed..."

"Even if the newly forged sword is as sharp as before, it is no longer pure and no longer what it once was."

Glover stared fiercely at him, not backing down in the slightest.

Marico's gaze swept over the captives before him.

"Just like Constellation's nobles."

"Though passed down from antiquity, generation after generation, inheriting the past and opening the future, after a thousand hundred years..."

Marico raised the Weightbearer in his hand.

"They are ultimately no longer what the empire looked like."

"Yeah," Glover snorted angrily.

"Who knows which generation of your ancestors was born from some woman sneaking out to sleep around?"

Bang!

Glover was knocked to the ground for the third time. Doyle beside him painfully turned his head and breathed out.

"I don't know which nerve Marico hit to make Zombie explode like this, but if he keeps going, he'll get himself killed," Doyle whispered to the captives.

"Think of something!"

It was at that moment.

"But I heard someone say!"

Wya's voice came from behind, making Marico pause.

"Those whose heads are filled only with the empire..."

Wya raised his head and laughed softly.

"often have never seen the empire."

Hearing this, Marico lowered the sheath and turned toward Wya.

Doyle quietly gave the latter a thumbs-up, wriggled over to the dying Glover, and propped him up.

As expected of the real Wya!

"Prince's attendant officer, Wya Caso," Marico said coldly.

Wya nodded and calmly said,

"According to what you said, this man no longer belongs to your unit."

"Whether beaten or killed, his life belongs to Prince Thales."

Marico stopped before him.

"Attendant officer, I respect your father. Count Caso has noble conduct, extraordinary talent, and unmatched service to the kingdom."

Marico was expressionless.

"You should follow in his steps, diligently assisting and advising His Highness the Prince."

"Not fall in with this group of sinners."

Glover, who had recovered his breath, could not help wanting to speak again, but Doyle clamped a hand hard over his mouth.

Wya first frowned, then smiled derisively.

"No need."

The attendant officer's gaze was sharp.

"Not every son is worthy of his father's glory."

Wya jerked his chin.

"Just like this sword. No matter how sharp it is, how legendary, how... pure."

"The empire still perished."

Marico frowned.

"Just like your family still sold your ancestor's sword in the end."

Wya shook his head.

"Only then did it buy your today."

"Isn't that so?"

"Big-Dick Bro?"

Marico's gaze grew worse and worse.

Glover was inexplicably angry, while Doyle secretly gave Wya another thumbs-up.

The real Wya...

How loyal!

At that moment.

"Did I miss something?"

A familiar youth's voice came, light and casual, yet it made the royal guards in the courtyard stir and step back one after another.

"I mean, aside from 'Big-Dick Bro'?"

Hearing this voice, Marico let out a heavy sigh.

Amid the commotion, Thales appeared beneath the lights, his face full of exhaustion.

The captives immediately perked up as if seeing their savior.

"Your Highness!"

"Little brat--Your Highness!"

"I thought I'd never see you again--"

"We're saved!"

"I knew it!"

Thales squeezed out a smile, waving here and nodding there, answering his subordinates' excited shouts.

Amid the bustle, Marico turned back and roared,

"Shut up!"

The guards in Elan Courtyard shouted one after another, suppressing the captives' enthusiasm.

"All right, the play is over, Vanguard Officer Marico." Thales waved at Marico and said sleepily,

"Untie them."

"The road at night is too dark. I need company."

The vanguard officer stared at him with a complicated expression and first saluted.

"Forgive me, Your Highness Thales. I cannot obey."

Marico insisted,

"They are suspects who trespassed into the palace, or instigated a noble person to trespass into the palace. They must be strictly interrogated."

Thales gave a huge yawn and did not care.

"Listen, I just fought three hundred rounds with the king. I'm tired and don't want to argue with you over this."

"Go ask Adrian." The prince pointed toward the road he had come from.

"He'll give you the same answer."

"Then I will wait here for the captain's order." Marico refused to show weakness.

"Please do as you wish, but they cannot leave."

Thales looked left and right, taking in the indignant yet awed royal guards.

"Let's make a deal, Vanguard Officer Marico," the youth sighed. "If you let my people go..."

"I'll give you some benefits?"

Marico coldly refused.

"Bribing the palace guard is a royal taboo, Your Highness."

But Thales shook a finger and approached him.

"You know, when we came in, those royal guards at the palace gate," the prince smiled and lowered his voice,

"I suspect they harbored disloyal intentions and intended to harm the kingdom's heir."

Marico's gaze changed.

"What?"

Thales stretched his neck, revealing the bandage there.

"Look. In that conflict, my neck was cut. Wow, and I bled so much. Tell me, isn't this attempted murder of the prince? For the safety of the future king, should we drag him out and demand an explanation? Expel him, or them, from the guards?"

"That is not the truth. It is slander." Marico's expression became very ugly.

The captives stared blankly.

Thales smiled.

"That isn't up to you."

"After all, my father also said the late king's death was all due to your negligence."

"Isn't that right?"

Marico took a deep breath.

"You--"

"Let my people go," before he could speak, Thales pressed one palm onto Marico's shoulder.

"And I'll put in a word with the Banner Wings to make sure those lads won't carry the charge of 'harming the prince,' and that their records won't leave behind any 'dereliction of duty.' I also won't retaliate against them. How's that?"

Marico's expression changed several times.

Thales clicked his tongue.

"So, Big-Dick Bro, are you going to fight me to the end..."

He rolled his eyes toward the hungry captives.

"Or...?"

One minute later.

Thales, surrounded before and behind by many people who had survived the disaster and were delighted, walked through Renaissance Palace's corridors.

Their group staggered crookedly, miserable and sloppy, yet made quite a commotion, noisy all the way, plus one big black horse unhappy because she had missed dinner. Every guard and servant along the way heard them and avoided them.

"Sorry, Kohen. I didn't think it would get this big back then," Thales said tiredly.

"I only wanted to borrow your family's name, but I didn't expect you'd be the first to move."

"Forget it. The chief will definitely suspend me again once he finds out. I only hope he doesn't deduct my salary." Bruised and swollen, Kohen miserably hugged his ancestral sword, tears and snot flowing.

"No, wait, I remember now. I was already suspended for self-reflection..."

"And I wasn't the first to move just now either. Someone kicked me from behind..."

Doyle coughed twice from behind and said quietly,

"Does the chief know His Highness?"

Kohen froze, then reacted with unprecedented speed, righteous and solemn.

"Ah, Your Highness! It was my honor to lead the charge for you!"

"With our friendship, I am willing to go through water and fire for you!"

If the first to move wasn't Kohen, then...

Thales glanced behind him.

Ralf looked elsewhere and gave a cold snort.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk, little Jaron. Who would have thought!" Doyle patted Glover's shoulder in relief, completely ignoring the latter's discomfort.

"You are also one of us!"

"When should we exchange experiences about visiting Red Street..."

Glover snorted angrily and shook him off, walking forward.

"Fuck off!"

Rejected, Doyle felt somewhat embarrassed. He chuckled at Jennard and Willow behind him.

"We're... that is, we're close. We speak pretty casually. Casually."

Wya caught up to Thales and said worriedly,

"Your Highness, did you... get what you wished?"

The thinking Thales came back to himself and smiled with effort.

"I'm still alive, right?"

Wya looked at his expression, wanting to speak but stopping.

"But..."

"Right. That Vanguard Officer Marico just now," Thales raised his brows and interrupted him, changing the subject.

"He's not too bad?"

Glover behind him snorted disdainfully.

"Although he more or less had thoughts of fishing for reputation and showing loyalty to invite favor, in the end, he compromised," Thales scratched his chin.

"He didn't push the situation to the end and ruin his subordinates' futures just to complete his own reputation of facing a prince without fearing the powerful."

"No difference," Glover said sullenly.

"He's still a self-righteous bastard."

"And those dozen or so idiots we beat up will probably still be grateful to Big-Dick Bro and think he saved them."

Thales shook his head.

"You have to give him a way down."

"And we also have to tolerate that people are imperfect, Fatty."

Hearing this nickname, Glover showed embarrassment and could not help slowing down and falling behind.

"Eh, Fatty?" Doyle caught up from behind, his gaze turning with great interest.

"Why does His Highness call you that? You're not fat, at least not with clothes on. Could it be... Fatty?"

Glover stopped and once again became fierce and menacing.

"Call me that again--"

"--and you'll be in danger," the lifeless Kohen drifted past the two of them, weakly finishing the second half of the Zombie's sentence.

The fierce Glover's expression stiffened.

"He--" Glover's fierceness failed halfway. Holding in a breath, he unwillingly said,

"is right."

Glover glared at Doyle, snorted coldly, and stormed off.

Only Doyle stood in place, confused.

When did those two get so close?

Clearly, I am Zombie's partner. I am the grandson of that fool's great-uncle's wife's sister's husband, all right?

He could only turn to the last one, Ralf, and explain helplessly,

"I know. They're difficult, right? Completely inconsiderate of other people's feel--"

But Ralf walked past him expressionlessly, not even glancing at Doyle.

"ings--"

Leaving only the awkward Doyle to rub his nose and comfort himself in the air.

"It's fine. I'm fine. But thank you for your concern, Mr. Ralf. Also, happy cooperation."

What answered him was the black horse Jannie's disdainful snort.

At the front of the group, Wya took a deep breath.

"But I know, Your Highness, even if Marico did not agree to your conditions," the attendant officer smiled,

"you would not, for no reason, let those guards suffer false accusation. Right?"

Thales paused.

He was slightly dazed, his thoughts unknown.

In the next second, the prince gave a noncommittal soft sneer.

"Who knows?"

Wya froze.

Thales said nothing more. He strode forward.

Wya looked at the prince's back and could not help speaking.

"Strange."

"What is?" asked Glover casually, heavy with his own thoughts.

Wya shook his head.

"I don't know." He looked at Thales's back.

"I just feel His Highness is a little wrong."

Ralf snorted disdainfully and made a crude gesture.

Glover asked, "Why?"

Wya hesitated for one second and said,

"That question. If it were before, he would definitely have smiled easily and said 'of course.'"

"And he would never hesitate."

Ralf froze slightly.

Glover was thoughtful.

----

Renaissance Palace, Royal Guards' Duty Room.

"The palace alarm has been stopped for an hour, and no one has come to make petty reports to you for a long time."

Royal Guards Watchman Tormond Mallos gently set down his mate tea and said indifferently,

"At least tell me what happened outside."

"For example, Renaissance Palace caught fire?"

Across from him, Deputy Captain and Chief Flag Officer Vogel Talen opened the next document.

"Routine guard drill. No need to worry," the deputy captain said without raising his head.

"Our work here isn't done. The defense and duty arrangements of Mindis Hall, did you arrange and deploy them according to the royal guard regulations?"

Mallos raised his head. On the wall, the echo array was still operating, bright and shining.

"Does a routine drill require thirty people fully armed to block the duty room door, surround us, permit entry but forbid exit?"

The room was silent for a while.

Vogel laughed once, making light of it.

"We must drill for every situation. Answer the question."

Every situation.

Mallos narrowed his eyes.

"Even me?"

Vogel raised his gaze, shooting 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 go assassinate His Majesty, did he?"

Vogel's fingers turning the pages stopped dead.

"Actually, it's not that hard to guess," Mallos stretched out his hand, closed the document cover, and answered the other's surprise.

"Aside from the prince raising troops to rebel, I can't think of another reason to lock his captain of guards here like a thief and have you drag me into chatting."

Vogel was expressionless.

Mallos sighed.

"Mm, that boy shouldn't be that stupid. But who knows, taught by Northlanders."

Mallos looked seriously at Vogel.

"Listen. If the situation can't be cleaned up, you will need me."

The two in the duty room were silent for a good while.

"Fine. I can let you go."

Mallos's eyes lit up.

"As long as you answer me one thing truthfully."

Vogel looked at the echo array on the wall and seemed to make up his mind.

"That child..."

"Is he His Majesty's..."

"blood?"

Mallos abruptly raised his eyes.

Blood.

"What happened to His Highness?"

Mallos sped up his speech and pressed him.

"Is he still alive?"

The Watchman's reaction and attitude made Vogel frown.

"If not by blood, then is he..."

Vogel paused, stared at his opponent, and probed,

"the blood of His Highness Crown Prince Midier?"

Crown Prince Midier.

Hearing this, Mallos first froze, then exhaled and burst into laughter.

He leaned back against his chair.

"So he's safe?"

"Whether he's safe or not has a great deal to do with this," Vogel persisted.

"Answer me."

Mallos laughed softly and looked back at him with playful eyes.

"His Highness Midier died eighteen years ago, in Year 660 of the Calendar of Eradication," the Watchman looked directly at Vogel.

"As for that child, he is fourteen this year."

Eighteen years ago.

Fourteen years old.

Vogel reacted and became inexplicably embarrassed.

"Fine, then we--"

Bang!

The duty room door was knocked open.

Mallos and Vogel both turned their heads, one relieved, one displeased.

Flag Officer Weah walked in with a miserable face.

"Sir--"

"I said not to disturb us," Vogel said unhappily.

Flag Officer Weah's expression became even uglier. He mechanically nodded and stepped aside, revealing the figure behind him.

"Here?"

Prince Thales stepped into the room, startling the two seated men at the same time. Both rose.

"Just this shabby place?" Thales frowned.

"You two can really talk."

Behind him, the heads of Doyle, Kohen, Wya, and the others grew out of the doorframe, curiously examining this duty room that only officers could rest in.

"Your Highness."

Vogel was somewhat unable to believe it.

"You... are safe and sound."

Thales waved a hand to indicate he knew.

"Your Highness."

Mallos, however, had a calm gaze.

"Had fun?"

Thales gave a cold snort and sent him an eye roll.

"You. Why are you standing there?"

The prince waved a hand, turned, and left.

"Home!"

Mallos raised his brows at Vogel, indicating he had no choice.

Vogel came back to himself and spoke firmly.

"Your Highness."

"The Banner Wings' paperwork is not yet complete."

Vogel came before Thales, blocking his way gloomily.

"And this is an important tradition of the royal guards, concerning the royal family's safety. Please understand."

Thales lifted the corner of his mouth.

"Who's that?"

"The big villain of the guards. See, even Mallos can't do anything to him..."

"What will His Highness do?"

"One silver coin. I bet he'll go hard, like threatening his family..."

"Then I bet soft..."

Chattering voices came from behind.

Thales's face stiffened, and he abruptly turned back.

The heads growing from the doorframe vanished in unison.

The surroundings went quiet.

The prince turned back and looked at the flag officer.

"What if I don't understand?"

Vogel suppressed the annoyance in his heart, bowed, and smiled.

"Your Highness, allow me to introduce this. It is an echo array."

Thales followed his gaze to the wall and discovered the strange array glowing faintly.

Magic.

Magic again.

An inexplicable irritation rose in his heart.

"It is currently recording everything we say at this very moment, without missing a word," Vogel said neither humbly nor arrogantly, his wording proper.

"Passing it to later generations, leaving it for judgment."

Thales frowned.

"Later generations?"

Vogel nodded.

"Although the echo stones used for recording are incomparably rare consumables, throughout the several hundred years of Constellation's history, many late kings' decrees and wills were left behind this way."

He narrowed his eyes.

"Many historians wrote biographies for Constellation's past kings and spread them through ten thousand generations by following this source."

Wrote biographies, spread through ten thousand generations...

Thales paused at this and subconsciously straightened his collar.

"Glover, Doyle, take His Highness back first," Mallos spoke, calm as he said,

"I'll be there shortly."

"It won't be long."

Zombie and Doyle were about to enter the room, only to be glared back by Vogel when the latter turned his head.

Mallos's and Vogel's gazes met in the air.

As if lightning flashed.

Thales's fingers straightening his collar paused.

"Echo array? So no matter what I say now..."

The youth slowly turned around.

"Behind me, hundreds and thousands of years of kings and queens will be able to hear it?"

Vogel nodded happily.

"Yes. Therefore, for the sake of completeness, Your Highness might first..."

"All right."

Thales sighed and walked toward the wall.

Seeing this, Vogel could not help laughing.

"Without reasonable methods and means, you cannot disassemble..."

But Thales merely cupped both hands before his mouth, aimed at the array, and took a deep breath.

"My descendants, listen carefully, listen, listen..."

Doubt appeared on Vogel's face.

Mallos's expression changed. He suddenly had a bad premonition.

Thales summoned the Sin of Hell's River and focused it on his vocal cords and throat. His voice grew louder and louder.

"Listen... listen... listen..."

In the next second, his face twisted savagely, and he roared.

"Listen to your fucking mother, you stupid-ass piece of shit--"

The duty room was not large. His voice boomed like thunder, deafening. The lights in the room trembled wildly, and even the mate tea in the cup was shaken into spilling.

When the roar ended, the room fell silent. Only the echoes outside the corridor lingered, shaking the palace.

The array's light flickered rapidly several times, then dimmed greatly, barely alive.

Thales breathed out.

After roaring this line that would spread through ten thousand generations, he only felt refreshed, clear-hearted, and broad-minded.

The prince tidied his appearance, turned back in satisfaction, and faced the two petrified men and several stone heads on the doorframe, gentle and elegant, graceful and refined.

"May I ask, is the paperwork finished?"