Chapter 693: Bad Blood

"I remember now. Lausanne, the name Lausanne has an allusion."

On a remote path, Thales looked at the festival fireworks rising in the distance and suddenly spoke in realization.

"What?"

Hilley caught up from behind him, her steps unsteady and her expression dispirited.

"It is not an ordinary name. It is a literary character. No, perhaps such a person truly existed in history." Thales scratched his chin, thoughtful. "One or two hundred years ago, 'Bad Blood' Lausanne was a notorious great bandit on the Golden Corridor. He committed countless evils in his life, his crimes piled high."

"How do you know that?" Hilley asked curiously.

"Bardic poems, knights, and plays." Thales shrugged.

Especially those collected in Nekaru's library, where the sealed stock had begun increasing again after the Archduchess inherited the throne, books that could not be found inside Stars.

"Oh, His Highness is indeed widely learned..."

Srimanny, walking third, first looked full of admiration, then asked doubtfully,

"But Bad Blood Lausanne? Bad Blood? Why call him that?"

Behind the defense lawyer, Glover turned his head left and right. Ralf held a section of prosthetic limb and leaned on one of his shoulders, moving with difficulty. Catherine covered her severed arm and leaned on his other shoulder, trembling.

Both looked exhausted and occasionally hissed and groaned.

As the human walking stick stuck in the middle, Glover could only sigh lifelessly.

He would rather have stayed beneath the bridge pier and fought Lausanne II to the death.

"Because Lausanne, I mean Lausanne 'the First,' at least in literary works, was a vile knight who betrayed his lord and his creed," Thales recalled. "Not only that, he personally killed his own father and teacher, betrayed his house, and committed a world-intolerable, monstrous crime, all to prove that he was stronger than them."

These words made everyone frown together.

"Sounds unforgivably wicked the moment you hear it," Srimanny clicked his tongue.

"Bad Blood," Glover murmured.

Thales nodded.

"In some works, he has other epithets: 'Evil Son,' 'Sin-Seed,' 'Rogue Knight,' 'Sword of Betrayal.' But in general, they are much the same. Since that black-clothed killer has a nickname like 'Lausanne II,' perhaps..."

"Turnbull must have given it to him," Phantom Blade Catherine spoke darkly. "That old poser had no culture but loved pretending. He loved watching plays, then dragging out theatrical lines to dress himself up, while his subordinates had to flatter him, 'The boss knows so much.'"

Catherine spat.

"Wait, Rogue Knight. Now that you mention it, I remember too." Hilley tried hard to recall. "But I remember he was only a supporting character. In stories where he appears, the true protagonist should be..."

"'Wolf Enemy' Kera," Thales said with certainty.

Everyone gave a chorus of enlightened "oh."

The prince raised his head and looked at the fireworks bursting in different colors above the sky.

"As the most popular and romantic heroic protagonist among modern adventure works, Kera Jadestar has countless enemies and opponents created by bards. Some are taken from historical facts, some are purely fictional. But even among so many enemies of 'Wolf Enemy,' 'Bad Blood' can be considered one of the most cruel, vicious, despicable, and cunning. His martial skill was outstanding and his schemes astonishing, yet he had no principles at all, making him frightening."

These descriptions made everyone quiet for a while.

"Then Lausanne 'the Second'... second..." Srimanny muttered.

"Please tell me he died. Died miserably." Hilley's face was tired.

"Mm. In most stories, Bad Blood Lausanne ultimately lost under Wolf Enemy's blade and died filled with hatred. In a small number of endings..."

Thales raised his head, his expression solemn.

"They died together."

The surroundings fell quiet.

Thales reacted and quickly scratched his head with a smile.

"It is fine. No matter what Lausanne in the story was like, that Lausanne II has fallen into our hands. When the time comes, however we want to flatten him, knead him round..."

"No." Catherine suddenly spoke.

She froze for a while, then ignored the strange gazes of the others and looked at Thales.

"I believe your guards are very powerful, Your Highness. Well-trained and highly skilled. But, but..."

She hesitated.

Thales asked doubtfully, "Catherine?"

Phantom Blade took a deep breath.

"When I was young, I saw Lausanne II kill. It was terrifying," she said worriedly. "But just now, I had a feeling: he is even stronger than before."

Even stronger than before?

Everyone paused together.

"Stop joking! People age!"

Srimanny forced a smile, trying to convince others and himself. "And he is only one person. Your Highness Thales, your prince's guard must be full of the kingdom's top masters, guarding the royal family. He cannot defeat so many..."

"He does not need to defeat them," Catherine shook her head. "Lausanne only needs to break through the encirclement, then hide in some shadowy corner. After that, we can only keep living in fear."

Srimanny's smile disappeared.

Thales swallowed and felt it necessary to raise morale.

"Listen, I know he is very powerful, otherwise he would not have this nickname. But..."

But Catherine seemed to have thought something through and spoke through gritted teeth.

"Your Highness!"

Leaning on Glover, she quickened her limping steps.

"Please, send someone to North Gate Bridge."

Srimanny frowned. "Brotherhood territory?"

Catherine nodded, her breathing unstable.

"Find 'Head Wolf' Razanchi Fesol. Tell him, tell him what happened, and have him bring Black Sword."

Thales' expression moved.

Everyone was quiet again.

"Black Sword?"

Srimanny froze.

"Black Sword? That legendary Brotherhood boss who knows witchcraft and dark arts and is undying?"

"He is not a legend, and he does not know witchcraft," Catherine shook her head and snorted coldly. "But yes, he is indeed annoying."

Thales could not help asking, "Is that necessary?"

"Facing Lausanne, only this will do. Only a master of that level gives us a thread of hope. Otherwise, after Lausanne II escapes, finishes resting, and comes to find us..." Catherine was very firm. "Whether it is me or him, we will both die."

And you cannot protect me.

Thales heard the words she did not say.

All right.

"That is simple. I will write a letter to Renaissance Palace." Thales was calm and unhurried, answering with a smile. "Have Arracca Murkh or Roman, oh, I mean the Wrath of the Kingdom or the Wings of Legend, transferred over to take charge and help?"

The prince looked completely confident and in control, even making Hilley look at him with new respect.

Srimanny's spirits were greatly lifted. He straightened his back and swept away his bad luck.

"Eh, Lausanne II is only a lowly moth. There is no need to trouble those two great figures..."

Only Glover, who had been to the Western Desert, and Ralf, who had been to the fortress, exchanged a glance with strange expressions.

Catherine stared at the confident Thales, staring for a very, very long time, as if she had seen through something.

Just as Thales could no longer endure it and was thinking whether he should cough to shift attention, Catherine sighed and spoke.

"I know, Your Highness. The people you mentioned are all peerless top masters. They are killing gods on the battlefield, fierce generals in military formations. But..." Phantom Blade was deeply worried. She glanced at Ralf, but the latter turned his head away and did not dare look at her. "It is different. Lausanne II is an executioner who walks the city streets and alleys."

Everyone's hearts chilled at her words.

"They may be able to defeat him, beat him back, force him to retreat. But they cannot kill him, nor catch him."

Catherine's expression grew more resolute.

"Only one person. Only one person can."

Feeling the other party's gaze, Thales frowned.

"Listen. I have met Black Sword, even seen him fight. I know he is strong. But as for that Lausanne II, no matter what deep meaning this nickname has or what connection it has with 'Bad Blood'..."

The prince sighed, very suspicious.

"Can he compare to Black Sword?"

Catherine froze.

"Compare?"

After several seconds, the former boss of the Blood Bottle Gang laughed.

"Hahahahaha. Young prince, do you know..." She looked at the ground, her expression bleak and dim. "Back then, when Black Sword had just become famous, this is what we said..."

Catherine raised her head, her gaze cold.

"Can he compare to Lausanne?"

A light breeze blew. The fireworks were bright. Everyone silently advanced, saying nothing.

Thales let out a breath.

"I understand what you mean. Yes, perhaps Black Sword is the only person who has ever defeated Lausanne..."

But Catherine interrupted him.

"No. He did not."

Phantom Blade lowered her head.

"It was someone else," she said faintly. "Turnbull did indeed die by Black Sword's hand. But back then, the one who truly defeated Lausanne II and made him fall from then on..."

Catherine raised her head, her expression venomous.

"Was someone else."

"Hold him in place! Do not let him keep moving!"

Amid Toledo's roar, the battle beneath the bridge pier was dangerous and fierce.

Lausanne II endured the joint siege of four people, dodging, shifting, blocking, and parrying amid blade light and sword shadows, wretched and perilous. The rest of the guard held the outer perimeter, watching like tigers and ready to step in at any time.

"I will seal his sword. You seize the chance-"

"Keep up. Hold the outside!"

"Aim at torso and limbs. Capture alive!"

"Is dead acceptable? Is this not vengeance?"

"That would be letting him off easy!"

"Force him toward the dead angle!"

"Not you, Neshy. You just stand in your position!"

Other than the four people in the innermost layer facing the enemy directly, the others also echoed and reminded one another, seeking cooperation or relieving pressure. Their positions slowly shifted with the changing center of the battle, but under Toledo's command, the guard formation remained fixed within the area beneath the bridge pier, preventing Lausanne II from breaking out and escaping.

At this moment, Lausanne II dodged Morgan's killing move, turned back, flipped his wrist, and rushed straight toward Komuto behind him!

"Switch!"

Standing high up and watching the battle the entire time, Mallos suddenly shouted:

"Now!"

Before many people could react, Miranda, who had been leaning on her sword at the side to rest, flashed forward and parried Lausanne's counterattack. The timing was perfect, allowing the panting Komuto to withdraw to the outer perimeter and rest.

Lausanne spat, but Punishment Officer Karpon's axe was already smashing in from the side. He had no choice but to give up pursuit and turn back to dodge.

Mallos breathed out, but his brows grew tighter and tighter.

"Almost a quarter hour. The people attacking head-on have already rotated into the second round." Standard-bearer Hugo Fubi came beside him. "Much trickier than imagined."

Mallos did not speak. He still stared fixedly at Lausanne in the fierce battle.

Hugo, nicknamed "Ghost," narrowed his eyes, watching Lausanne II shuttle through the formation of four attackers, seeking gaps, occasionally exchanging blows with a fifth person on the outside. He clicked his tongue.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk. Alone, yet not afraid in the slightest of being surrounded by many people. Does that remind you of someone?"

But Mallos shook his head.

"No. The person you mean was a genius blessed by heaven. He relied on unmatched perception and observation, instantly receiving every detail in the battle situation and merging the whole battlefield into one. In that person's eyes, what he faced was not many people attacking together, but a many-headed, many-limbed monster full of holes, self-contradictory, terribly uncoordinated, and unable to even walk steadily. The more limbs it had, the weaker it was, and it was no concern."

Hugo laughed softly.

"So that is why you arranged this strangling formation. Four main attackers, neither more nor less, coordinating attacks and rotating when the chance appears, specially restraining supreme-class experts?"

As he spoke, Karpon and Oskarlson pressed forward together, one attacking and one blocking. Together with the rested Miranda, they forced Lausanne II into a difficult defense. He could only retreat again and draw his sword at the most uncomfortable angle, clashing hard at close range with Morgan's dangerous twin swords.

"Beautiful!"

"Ah, just a tiny bit off!"

"Not bad. Keep it up!"

"Smash his head, Morgan! No need to be polite to him, right?"

Amid the guards' shouts, Mallos' voice grew lighter and lighter, but in Hugo's ears, it grew heavier and heavier.

"But this man, this black-clothed killer, his strategy is the exact opposite of that person's. Surrounded and attacked, he appears to be at a disadvantage and in a sorry state, but in truth, he has been maintaining movement without stopping. At the same time, he uses counterattacks to deter opponents, firmly controlling distance and angles between himself and the four, ensuring that at any given moment he is always in a one-on-one fight, at most one against two. He raises his strengths and avoids his weaknesses, needing only to focus on one or two enemies while avoiding being attacked by many people as much as possible."

Mallos narrowed his eyes.

Otherwise, as long as his steps were slightly slower, his position slightly off, and he unfortunately fell into the strangling attack of four people at the same time, or even merely three people at the same time, the battle would have ended long ago.

"Compared with that person, this killer's strategy against being surrounded is to make full use of space, widen the battlefield, and cut it into countless fragments. Each time, he only deals with one fragment, transforming the overall situation of few against many into local situations of the strong bullying the weak."

Hugo frowned.

"Sounds like the strategy street thugs use in group fights: if surrounded, run; fight while running; when there is a chance, focus on one person and beat him to death?"

"Believe it or not, Hugo, sometimes the inner logic of thug fights, warrior duels, and even battlefield warfare is not that different."

Hugo looked displeased and shifted his gaze back to the battle.

"So, the actual battle situation is not this fellow being besieged by four enemies for ten minutes, but him, even while restricted in various ways and able to exert only limited strength, actively choosing the battlefield and dueling each enemy individually for two and a half minutes?"

Mallos nodded.

Yes.

Such one-on-one duels had occurred four times separately across ten minutes.

Hugo understood.

"That is why even with Arunde's skill, they are still struggling so hard and cannot break through."

The standard-bearer's face turned cold.

"In that case, we tighten the formation, force the inner circle inward, cut away the space he has to dodge and roll, leave him nowhere to step, let alone move!"

"Then we will fall right into his desire."

Mm?

Hugo was puzzled again.

"Strength and weakness generate each other, growing and shrinking in turn. If we pull in the inner circle and shrink space, it means giving up the outer perimeter and leaving empty space behind us," Mallos said calmly. "Yes, perhaps he will find it much harder to use movement to raise strengths and avoid weaknesses, forced to fall into a siege. But as long as he risks taking a hit, breaks through the first layer of defense, and the weakened outer perimeter lacks enough people to intercept and delay him, then he can use the empty space behind us and leave freely, without obstruction."

Hugo's expression was complicated. In the end, he clicked his tongue.

"Tch. Twists and turns."

Mallos said nothing. He only stared at Lausanne with an even graver gaze.

As they spoke, Flatten and Langley both rushed forward under command, replacing Morgan and Karpon, who had been wounded by sword strikes, and launched a new round of siege against Lausanne II.

"Not good."

Mallos suddenly spoke.

"After the second round, he has gradually become familiar with everyone's style and is starting to have more room."

Hugo's eyebrows jumped. He happened to see the aggressive Langley forced back by Lausanne's sudden sword, rolling away in a sorry state. Fortunately, Flatten attacked from the side and shared the pressure.

Damn it.

"All right. Looks like we need to use the fallback plans," Hugo said impatiently. "Plan A, give the death order and attack fiercely regardless of cost. Plan B, speed up rotation to increase his exhaustion. Plan C, combine near and far attacks and look for chances to ambush. And Plan D... anyway, we do not have much time. Which do you choose?"

Mallos was silent, his gaze flickering.

"Z," the Watchman spoke softly. "I choose Z."

In that instant, Hugo Fubi froze slightly.

Z?

In the next second, Hugo laughed coldly.

"Interesting. Compared with before, your sense of humor has improved."

But Mallos did not laugh. He only slowly turned his head, looked at Fubi, and his gaze was calm.

The standard-bearer's expression changed.

"Damn it. You are not joking." The smile on Hugo's face instantly disappeared. "What is going on?"

"A misjudgment."

"What?"

Mallos sighed. "Regarding this person's strength, we followed outdated intelligence and made an extremely serious, extremely dangerous, even potentially fatal misjudgment. The previous contingency plans can no longer keep up with the change."

Hugo froze.

"I do not understand."

At this moment, another change occurred in the field. Lausanne took a step aside, and amid the drifting sword shadows, Flatten, who had originally been on the offensive, groaned and tilted, his shield falling to the ground!

Everyone cried out in alarm. At the critical moment, Miranda's Eagle Soar attacked from the side, knocking aside Lausanne II's killing sword with an excellent horizontal cut at exactly the right timing.

"Cover the switch!"

Two whooshes sounded. Paul and Italiano fired bow and crossbow together, forcing Lausanne II to dodge one and block the other, leaving him unable to pursue.

Taking advantage of the opening created by the two arrows, Toledo and Kusta rushed forward together. The former dragged the pained Flatten to safety, while the latter filled the position, gritting his teeth and raising his saber.

Lausanne II lightly raised his head and exchanged a glance with Mallos above.

That made Standard-bearer Hugo's heart tighten at the edge of the field.

"This way of fighting should be the most physically exhausting, but up to now, I cannot see any sign of exhaustion in him..."

Mallos looked at Lausanne, but his expression did not change. He remained composed.

"No. This person is far more than simply the 'super-class swordsman with an ability' or 'former master whose strength has greatly declined' that we thought."

Hugo could not believe it.

"You mean he hid his strength to deliberately mislead us?"

As the words fell, the battle began again. Lausanne's figure moved, and the four people, long prepared, attacked together with saber and swords, biting him firmly.

"And there is his swordsmanship and martial arts," Mallos' tone tightened. "Imperial Wind, the northern offense-defense school, the southern combat school, the new school, even different schools within the Tower of Eradication... no, more than that. In his movements, I even saw many niche martial arts, including martial arts from the Great Prairie, Hanbol, and Sucere. There were also many I could not identify, because each style only appeared for an instant, seeming true and false."

"That many?"

Mallos nodded. "For someone possessing many skills like this, there are two possibilities. The first is that he learned many things without mastering them, knows many arts but specializes in none, has form but no spirit, all empty show..."

Hugo was used to the way he spoke and directly waved away the nonsense.

"Then the second possibility?"

Mallos did not answer. He only stared fixedly at Lausanne II's blade flying up and down for a long time without speaking.

Hugo understood and turned his head to spit.

"Damn it."

But Mallos seemed to think this was not enough and added frost to snow.

"What is even more damned is that this is only his swordsmanship."

Not counting his ability, his Power of Eradication...

Including House Covendier's reinforcement.

Thinking of this, Mallos' gaze sharpened!

"Pass down my order: Plan Z."

Hugo frowned repeatedly. "These kids, some of them may not know Plan Z..."

"But you know, Hugo."

Mallos' order did not stop.

"If anyone questions it, tell them: His Highness the prince wants to let the line run long and catch the big fish."

Hugo's words caught.

He looked unwillingly toward the field.

"But this person is extremely important. If we miss the chance before us... Do we really not have even a little chance..."

"Twelve," Mallos suddenly said.

Hugo's gaze moved.

"Twelve what?"

"Twelve heads. Four people accelerate the rhythm and launch oppressive fierce attacks regardless of cost, consuming his strength and energy. Then three people strong enough go up, each in their categories, to test his style and find flaws and weaknesses. Then another five people pair according to the situation, in groups of two or three, to fight a decisive battle and work hard to force out his trump cards. The remaining people adapt to the situation and seize chances, striving for a killing blow."

Mallos' gaze moved faintly.

"If the pairings are proper, the arrangements are in place, morale does not collapse, and luck is not too poor, then with about twelve casualties and losses on our side, we should have a chance to trade him off. At the very least, to achieve mutual injury."

What?

Mutual injury?

Hugo could not help speaking.

"Then to capture him alive..."

"Do not even think about it," Mallos interrupted him. "If we hold that thought, harboring luck, I fear even mutual injury will be difficult."

Hugo looked troubled.

"Are you sure?"

Mallos nodded.

"I still had doubts before, but after so many skilled fighters continuously besieged him just now, I am now very certain. This person's strength and experience, will and stamina, are all superior and immeasurable. His swordsmanship is even more miraculous, its upper limit unknown."

At this point, the Watchman sighed and took a step forward.

"As far as these ten minutes are concerned, even among the supreme-class experts I have seen, he belongs to the very top group." Mallos' expression was incomparably solemn. "Comparable to the Knight of Judgement and the Heart of the Rain back then."

Hugo was shocked.

"That exaggerated? Is it related to the Anomalous Descent just now?"

The Watchman shook his head, indicating he did not know.

"Twelve, or Plan Z. What do you say?"

Twelve.

Hugo frowned and turned his head to look at the subordinates present: Morgan, Neshy, Komuto, Oskarlson... among them, some were filled with righteous anger, some eager to try, some facing a great enemy, some incomparably nervous...

The standard-bearer wanted to speak but stopped.

"But, but..."

The Watchman looked at him and changed direction.

"Yes, I am thinking the same thing: is it worth it?"

Hugo was silent for several seconds.

"This is the result you deduced?"

"Only one of them."

Mallos looked at Lausanne's movements, which were growing more and more at ease, and silently said:

The most optimistic one.

But Hugo remembered something and suddenly understood.

"You hurriedly urged the prince to leave first because you had already seen something was wrong and were not completely certain you could take him down. If that child stayed, he might be in danger?"

Mallos nodded and snorted.

"And with his personality, where even speaking to subordinates requires carrying a stuffed bear, he definitely would not allow us to sacrifice twelve people. No, even if we had to sacrifice one fingernail, he would shout and scream and seriously interfere with our decision-making."

Hugo was thoughtful.

Mallos asked again.

"So, twelve people, or Plan Z?"

Hugo was silent for several seconds, then smiled in relief.

"You know, back when we first met, you would not even have needed to make a decision. You would not have hesitated over this kind of thing."

Mallos' gaze moved.

"I do not now either," the Watchman looked back toward the field, his tone cold. "But you know our superior is a petty kid who holds grudges and is not easy to offend."

Hugo sighed.

"You are right." He raised his head and smiled mockingly. "Seriously interfere with our decision-making, hm."

Mallos looked at him, meaning deep.

At this moment-

"Switch!"

This time, a full three people rotated onto the field. The three who withdrew were all panting, and only Miranda, relying on swordsmanship that seemed ordinary but always worked, remained in the field and supported with difficulty.

Toledo finished checking Flatten's injury and had someone bandage the wounded, then stood up and shook his head toward Mallos.

"A casualty has appeared. The first." Mallos received the information, his tone tightening. "We need to decide."

Hugo sighed deeply.

"You have already decided, right? You just need someone to help you say it so you feel better, damned Blade of Terror."

Mallos' brow tightened.

"You know I hate that nickname."

Hugo took out his notebook and smiled sarcastically.

"But I like it."

Mallos' expression changed, but before he could speak, Hugo immediately opened his mouth.

"All right, then Plan Z!"

The standard-bearer turned and made an order gesture to Italiano in the distance.

"But who will..."

Hugo suddenly paused.

Ignoring Italiano's surprised expression across from him and the gesture requesting he repeat the order, Hugo turned straight back and looked at Mallos' expressionless face. His own expression changed.

"No." Hugo froze.

Mallos nodded, his expression calm.

"Yes. As you said, this is the result of my deduction."

Hugo's breathing quickened. He looked at Lausanne in the field, then at Mallos, and spat fiercely.

"Damn it. When you asked me to help you, you did not say this job was this dangerous!"

"I really did not say that?"

Hugo panted twice.

"How confident are you?"

Mallos' gaze moved.

He knew that Hugo was not asking about his confidence in victory.

Mallos curled the corner of his mouth, his smile as usual.

"Fifty-fifty."

"Ha, this again. I fucking knew it." Hugo smiled sarcastically. "Is there anyone in this world who is not 'fifty-fifty' against you?"

"Of course there is," Mallos sighed. "If Logistics Officer Storr faces me, one could say it is ten-zero. I have no chance of victory and only want to turn and run."

"Especially when he is holding the account book?"

Mallos and Hugo exchanged a glance and both gave a snort.

"By that logic, would it not be the same when you face the little brat?"

"Yes, only the odds are exactly reversed."

The Watchman and the standard-bearer both smiled.

"Then what about the guard's blood feud, Aknight's Honor Vengeance?" Hugo withdrew his smile and said in a low voice.

Mallos also put away his smile.

"I will think of a way, Hugo. No matter how strong he is, we will kill him."

He looked toward Lausanne II, then toward Hugo.

"I swear it, in the name of House Razor."

Hugo looked back at him and nodded.

"I will record those words according to the rules," the standard-bearer replied coldly. "You know Vogel will see them."

Mallos was silent for a second. "Good. You should."

Hugo laughed coldly.

"All right, damned Plan Z. I fucking should have been a little more ungrateful back then, stayed properly in the Standard Wing, stayed in Eternal Star City, retired early when the time came, gotten old peacefully, and meddled less in these rotten affairs of the guard and the royal family. Fuck the Blade of Terror..."

Hugo chattered nonstop, but he still turned and continued to transmit the order.

Mallos watched his back and took a deep breath.

The Watchman turned toward the battle, his expression cold, and his Power of Eradication came down like a flood breaching a dam.

In that instant, the black-and-white barren world before his eyes trembled lightly and once again became full of color.

Magnificent beyond compare.