Chapter 592: Like Coming Home

ARC: Curse of the Royal Tribulation

Chapter 92: Like Coming Home

In the heart of the bustling First Lower District, where the streets were frigid and tumultuous, three figures clad in cloaks moved with purpose, seamlessly blending into the chaotic crowd. Their arrival did not go unnoticed by the local ‘guides’, who, wearing smiles as wide as the horizon, eagerly sought out potential clients while casting venomous glances at their rivals. The pursuit that unfolded between the rightful owner and the thief was nothing short of thrilling, drawing complaints from the onlookers who bore witness to their relentless chase.

Along the filthy curb, scattered like discarded remnants, idle men and vagabonds patiently awaited meagre job prospects that could temporarily alleviate their hunger. Burdened and wheezing under their loads, porters and peddlers mechanically deposited their wares before shopfronts, indifferent to the blistering curses hurled at them by irate shopkeepers.^[1]

Impatient coachmen mercilessly whipped their steeds, rudely parting the mire-laden path, their irritation directed towards the cunning ruffians who attempted to surreptitiously secure a free ride. Gathered around a weathered, decaying wooden notice board, adventurers and mercenaries eagerly scanned it for any scrap of information—be it official bounties or covert assignments.

On the street corner, a sombre silhouette of a Dark Night Priest stood atop a makeshift wooden platform, his gaze sweeping over the passersby with a heavy heart filled with sorrow and resignation. His impassive voice carried forth his ignored sermon, falling on deaf ears. Concealed beneath their cloaks and armed to the hilt, enigmatic figures emanated an aura of danger that screamed “keep your distance”, fleetingly appearing on the streets to partake in unspeakable transactions.^[2]

In the centre of the collective gaze of the crowd, two men locked in a bitter confrontation that had ignited within the walls of a pub. Their clash was savage, their strikes painting crimson trails, and their unwavering determination to prevail refused to wane. Crafty and malevolent peddlers engaged in their habitual art of negotiation, pitting their cunning against equally shrewd customers, both parties vying to gain the upper hand and claim the last remnants of advantage from each other’s pockets.^[3]

At the end of the squalid and crumbling alley, a gathering of streetwalkers proudly displayed their beauty, while unabashed sounds of intimate encounters echoed from the ill-maintained second floor above. In a corner by the street, a group of gamblers gathered, shamelessly indulging in games of chance. Their assembly comprised a motley crew of bankers, cohorts, and thugs.

A clandestine gathering of ruffians huddled closely together, their eyes darting suspiciously as they covertly scrutinised each passer-by. Occasional hushed whispers of secrecy were exchanged among them…

“We should have never set foot in this wretched place. Just look at these foul streets—far too dangerous.” Glover forcefully shoved aside a vendor who attempted to peddle their wares.

“Relax, for the time being, we’re relatively safe, Zombie—hope you don’t mind me calling you that.” Thales’ voice resonated beside him.

Glover shook his head, indicating he didn’t mind.

Nevertheless, Zombie kept his head lowered, his ears keenly attuned to any foreboding sounds behind them. His hand tightly gripped the hilt of his sword, concealed beneath his cloak. In the alley they just walked by, a merciless gang of ruffians was savagely beating two desperate souls drowning in debt, showing no mercy.

With a frown, Kohen quickly closed the gap with a couple of strides, taking advantage of his towering build. With precise punches and well-aimed kicks, he dispersed the group of debt collectors. Yet, as he turned around, a sense of bewilderment washed over him as he discovered the debtors, who had just received a relentless beating, had also vanished into thin air.

Seeing the police officer’s actions, Thales couldn’t help but release a weary sigh before reluctantly offering an explanation,

“First, the fact that we’re all wearing cloaks is, on its own, a clear indication of our hidden identity or purpose, and it also suggests that we might be carrying weapons. Attacking us could be risky.”

“Second, from your appearance and the way you walk, it’s clear that you’re not easy to mess with. And with the three of us together, it’s obvious that you’re bodyguards who can handle themselves in a fight.”

“Third, I know that the Black Street Brotherhood has sent many of their members to the Red Street Market because of a kidnapping incident. They are currently in a confrontation with the Blood Bottle Gang. Including a fair share of the ‘dangerous kind’ who could pose a threat to us.”

“So, in reality, we are much safer than we initially thought.”

While Thales was talking, his gaze locked onto a street ruffian who had been discreetly assessing their group. The ruffian quickly looked away, pretending not to be interested.^[4]

“Mmm, Your Highness, you’ve just voiced exactly what I had in mind…”

Kohen, his expression etched with discomfort, gingerly brushed his fingertips against the torn edge of his clothes, the result of his recent scuffle. Disgruntled, he made his way back to Thales and Glover.

“Uh… what were we, um, talking about again?” he asked.

Glover shot Kohen a disdainful glance.

“When I was young, the Brotherhood hadn’t yet risen. And as I grew older, I rarely frequented this place,” Glover remarked, his words interrupted by an accidental collision with a tipsy drunkard, sending the other part stumbling.

“But no matter the time,” Zombie stated, “the Lower City District always presents a significant danger.”

Without missing a beat, Kohen reached out to steady the intoxicated man, guiding him to lean against the wall and gently slide down, ensuring he wouldn’t stumble and fall flat on his face.

The police officer patted Glover’s shoulder and said, “You should come out more often, Zombie. I used to have the same mistaken belief about this place being dangerous…”

“Call me that once more,” Glover’s face remained unchanged, yet his voice turned icy, “and you’ll see it as no mistake.”

A strained smile froze on Kohen’s face.

Thales chuckled lightly, taking the reins of the conversation,

“The Lower District is home to the majority of Eternal Star City’s less fortunate. It’s a community in its own right, though far from the dangerous reputation it often carries—a place where once you enter, there seems to be no way out and no return.”

Glover nodded.

A faint recollection flickered in Thales’ mind, causing his voice to lower ever so slightly, “At the very least, it isn’t a place infested with sharp fangs, preying upon unsuspecting victims…”

But in that very instant…

With a swift and forceful motion,

Thales’ hand shot out, seizing hold of a grubby little girl who happened to be passing by his side. From head to toe, she was cloaked in layers of dirt. Kohen and Glover were jolted by the sudden action, while the girl stared at the young man with wide, frightened eyes, her small form squirming in a desperate attempt to extricate herself from Thales’ firm grasp upon her wrist.

“I thought you could figure it out,” Thales murmured softly, addressing the frail girl who couldn’t have been older than seven or eight. “What you are after isn’t with me.”

With a subtle tilt of his head, Thales gestured towards the imposing figures of the police officer and the vanguard. “It’s with them.”

The dirty little girl’s eyes brimmed with tears, yet her glance cleverly darted around, taking in her surroundings.

Memories of his own time on the streets came to Thales, and a sense of familiarity washed over him. He lifted his head and looked around.

“Hey! What have you done to my daughter?” A predictable turn of events occurred—the narrow alley, where a flock of sparrows had gathered, suddenly birthed a dishevelled woman of middle age. Her face just like an artist’s palette, caked with heavy makeup, and her attire hung on her like a neglected clothesline. With a shrill and spiteful rural accent, she burst forth at precisely the right moment, pointing at Thales and unleashing a torrent of cutting insults.

“Everyone, come and witness this! Someone is tormenting a defenceless girl in broad daylight! Have you no decency? Have you no shame?”

Instantly, the onlookers turned their heads, one after another, joining in the uproar.

“Let me tell you, Alessa is my precious girl!”

“Her father holds great respect in these streets. If you don’t provide an explanation, don’t even entertain the thought—”

The woman with layers upon layers of makeup glanced up and caught sight of two tall, burly men draped in cloaks—Kohen and Glover—standing beside Thales. Instantly, her voice softened, and a forced smile appeared on her face.

“Oh, it seems there has been a misunderstanding… just a misunderstanding.”

The woman bowed her head, unleashing a vicious tirade on her own daughter,

“I knew you, you little troublemaker, would look for trouble! What did you take this time, huh? How many times have I told you? Even if you want something, you can’t simply snatch it from others! It’s the most basic virtue of being a decent person! Now, hand it over! Apologise to the gentleman!”

“No need to worry; she didn’t take anything,” Thales replied, his smile faintly visible as he loosened his grip on his right hand.

Alessa, the girl in question, sobbed and hurried into her mother’s embrace. Yet she didn’t miss the opportunity to shoot Thales a resentful glare, mirroring her mother’s intensity.

“What’s going on, darling?” A scruffy, dishevelled ruffian emerged, as if straight out of a dramatic play, his voice dripping with menace. He was accompanied by five or six other ill-intentioned thugs or vagabonds.

“I heard someone has been mistreating our daughter,” he proclaimed.

Thales subtly furrowed his brow.

In response to the ruffian’s voice, the woman instinctively altered her tune, transforming back into her menacing self without missing a beat.

“Very well then! If she hasn’t taken a thing, then you’re accusing an innocent person for no reason! Let me tell you, in Eternal Star City, we have laws! We may be poor, but we have our self-respect, and you can’t just unfairly accuse my daughter of being a thief…”

“So, it’s you lot?” The ruffian drew closer, casually digging his ear, his narrowed eyes scanning Thales from the corner of his gaze. “Bullying and falsely accusing my daughter of stealing in front of everyone…”^[5]

In a swift motion, Glover decisively turned on his heel, his arm raised as he delivered a powerful punch! The lead thug was sent hurtling through the air, his body crashing to the ground with a thud. Blood sprayed from his wounds as he lay motionless, two metres away.

Gasps escaped the lips of the spectators, and the remaining accomplices of the fallen thug sensed the imminent danger and scattered in all directions.

As the events unfolded before her eyes, the woman trembled, her voice dropping even lower.

“Oh, oh, it’s all just a misunderstanding. A terrible misunderstanding. Please forgive us,” she pleaded, her tone now fawning, even as she harshly slapped Alessa.

“She, she’s always been a little slow in the head…”

The three men remained silent, observing the scene as the woman continued to mutter curses. She dragged the girl into the alley, only to emerge at another street intersection shortly after, searching for their next unsuspecting target.

Under Glover and Kohen’s penetrating gazes, onlookers who were expecting a good show sighed in disappointment and turned away, one by one.

Thales let out a sigh and resumed their interrupted conversation,

“Indeed, this place is not as safe as one might imagine, particularly when you lower your guard, much like…”

“… the Great Desert.” Unexpectedly, it was Kohen who added,

Thales and Glover turned their heads at the same time.

“Dangerous yet offering a sense of safety,”

The police officer’s gaze lingered on the woman, who held the little girl’s hand and glanced nervously at the passersby.

Kohen drew a deep breath, his usual lightheartedness replaced by a sombre tone.

“Not really dangerous, yet not entirely safe either,” he mused.

Zombie’s voice resonated, deliberate and unhurried. “Have you ever been to the desert?”

Kohen shook his head, his lack of enthusiasm evident as he chose not to respond.

Thales, however, appeared to have struck a chord with a newfound realisation.

“Like all the other shores and faraway places in the world that people only hear about but don’t really know about,”

“Even though we are separated only by a wall, within arm’s reach,” he concluded.

Yet, despite the physical proximity, it felt as distant as the chasm between heaven and earth.

A world of contrast, like the stark difference between night and day.

Kohen shook off his gloomy thoughts and said, “By the way, where are we actually going?”

Thales observed the police officer’s peculiar behaviour and responded with a nonchalant smile. “To a place that holds the answers.”

Kohen and Glover furrowed their brows, puzzled by the cryptic reply. Baffled, they had no choice but to obediently follow the Prince, delving deeper into the labyrinthine and perilous neighbourhood.

Glover had grown up in the bustling streets of Red Street Market in the Western District, but he knew very little about the streets of the Lower City District. Surprisingly, Kohen, despite serving at the Western police station, appeared equally unfamiliar with this area. They stumbled along awkwardly, their appearance quite dishevelled. In contrast, Thales effortlessly manoeuvred through the streets, as though he possessed an innate understanding of every corner and alleyway. Already familiar with the surroundings, and with the aid of ‘never be lost’, he moved with confidence and fluidity, never faltering.^[6]

“Damn this cursed mud! Have the funds for road maintenance been devoured by dogs?” Kohen gasped, pulling his boots free from the mire for the third time. He directed his question to Thales, panting, “Your Highness, if I may ask, this is clearly the Lower District, but how is it that you’re so familiar with this place?”

Meanwhile, Glover remained silent, determined to match the Prince’s stride as he forcefully kicked a stone obstructing their path.

“Didn’t I mention it before?” Thales casually fibbed, not missing a beat, “The Jadestar Royal Family is blessed and protected by the gods. We never lose our way.”

‘Hmm?’

“Blessed? Protected? Never losing one’s way?” Kohen scratched his head.

‘Does that mean my old man was lying to me again? When I was a kid, he always told me that the Jadestar Royal Family carried an eternal curse…’

“So, stick close to me and don’t wander off.” Thales recalled the journey through the Black Track for some reason. He adjusted his cloak and confidently stepped forward.

“Some paths in life, once left behind, can never be retraced.”

Glover’s mind stirred with recollection. Being a man of few words, he simply tightened his cloak.^[7]

“Let me make sure I have this straight. We’re supposed to find answers here, in Lower City District?” Kohen treaded cautiously, wary of the treacherous road that could rival the Blade Fangs Camp.

Thales nodded.

“To be honest, my day has been quite a rollercoaster,” he said.

“I’ve experienced a mix of both good and bad moments, unexpected surprises, and a range of emotions.”

With a sense of familiarity, Thales pressed on, deftly walking through several alleyways, his voice carrying a trace of wistfulness.

“Just like the past few months, the last six years, my entire… life.”

Glover and Kohen were startled by his words.

Thales, with steady steps, looked around at the dirty and noisy surroundings. A smirk played on his lips as he asked, “Tell me, have you ever met someone who had their hope crushed? Reaching to a point where they feel completely trapped and hopeless and, as a result, give up on everything and become emotionally numb?”

Kohen’s eyes darted around, and he replied, “Actually, I’ve met quite a few—”

Glover furrowed his brow and said, “There were—”

Their words overlapped, and a short silence followed as they exchanged a glance.

“Hmm?” Thales urged, his attention drifting.

“In the Great Desert—” Kohen began.

“—At the Western Front—” Glover interjected at the same time.

Kohen and Glover gave each other another annoyed look, frustration evident in their eyes. They silently conveyed a shared feeling of, “Hey, you took my line!”.

“I was in the Battle of Eradication —”

“During the Desert War —”

The already strained duo stopped once again, glaring fiercely at one another.

“Hey, hey, hey, have you had enough—”

“Don’t interrupt me—”

“Alright, alright! Do you need some privacy to keep arguing? Maybe a room?” Thales finally reached his limit.

The police and vanguard fell into silence, their expressions turning disdainful as they turned away, emitting a disapproving “Hmph.”

Kohen, full of self-assurance, thought to himself, ‘Truly a loyal follower of D.D.’

Glover, with contempt in his eyes, mused, ‘Truly a relative of Doyle.’

(Inside the Doyle mansion in the Eastern City District, D.D. lounged on his bed, casually munching on fruit and flipping through a provocative art book, all while tending to his injuries. In the midst of his contentment, D.D. suddenly let out a loud sneeze, causing a startle for the Doyle Baron and Baroness outside the room, who once again rushed in, wailing, “Oh, our poor son!”)

“Now, where was I?” Thales sighed, his annoyance palpable.

“Those without hope—” Glover and Kohen once again spoke in unison. Two grimaces and an exchange of stares.

Thales nodded, his eyes fixed on the chaotic and disordered streets. Deep in thought,

“Now, meeting these people in the Lower City District gives me a sense of belonging to a world that feels normal, rather than being stuck in someone else’s exclusive group…”

someone’s exclusive group

Glover and Kohen both fell silent, immersed in their own thoughts, though this time arriving at different conclusions.

But Thales didn’t hold much expectation for their responses. He simply sailed through the corridors of his own memories.

“Have you ever met people who think being rude and aggressive showcases their strong personalities and believe that making strange and mysterious remarks is a way to sound clever and wise?”

Kohen sighed, “When I was a child—”

Glover sneered, “In my family—”

In an uncanny synchrony, their voices abruptly ceased, expressions stiff and unyielding.

“That room,” asked Thales, casting a questioning glance their way, “is there still no need for it?”

Kohen and Glover clenched their jaws, resolute in their decision to remain tight-lipped.

Thales let out a soft sigh, ‘I miss Wya and Ralf.’

The Prince persisted in his lament,

“And there are those who feign sophistication and elegance by acting mysterious. They make assumptions and nurture suspicions in their everyday interactions…”

“Who also view unspoken agreements as the norm, and saying one thing while meaning another as their standard approach…”

“Who effortlessly put on false appearances, pretending to be polite and proper, all the while keeping their motives unclear…”

“Sadly, I’ve come across these kinds of people time and time again lately.”

Thales released a long sigh,

“Perhaps it is inevitable that our paths will cross once again in the future.”

“They all focus their eyes on me, whether filled with hope or with pressure. Whether driven by curiosity or looking down on me, they expect to find answers from me, to respond to the questions they can’t answer themselves.” Thales said with sad eyes.

“But they are wrong.”

The Prince brushed aside a dangling clothesline and walked down a set of steps.

“I don’t have the answers.”

“At least not the answers they want, and I don’t even have the answers I yearn for.”

Thales treaded cautiously along the muddy path of his memories, as if time had stood still despite the passage of years.

The Prince’s melancholic mood infected Glover and Kohen, leaving them deep in thought and lost in their own silence.

“I don’t feel like myself when they look at me. I don’t know what I’m doing, what I should do, or what I can do.”

Thales led them through a narrow alley, eventually arriving at a more worn-down yet tranquil street.

“I don’t even know who I am.”

Thales gazed silently at the empty and quiet street from a distance.

“You, being of Royal lineage and incredibly smart,” Glover said with a touch of stiffness, “are naturally meant for important responsibilities that go beyond what ordinary people can handle.”

“Uh,” Kohen snapped out of his thoughts and panicked, “I… I think the same way!”

Glover shot him a sidelong glance.

Thales stole a brief glance back at his companions and couldn’t help but smile. “Well said, ‘No worries, fate will take care of everything for you.’ That’s what my father once said,” Thales reminisced, his gaze shifting to the uneven ground beneath his feet as he took another step forward.

“Over the past six years, that phrase has proven its merit,” he reflected. “Especially during my time in the North.”

“In those moments, hesitation was a luxury I couldn’t afford,” Thales furrowed his brow, vividly recalling the haunting laughter of the Raven of Death. “There was no room for second-guessing.”

Suddenly, Thales lifted his head.

“But…” he hesitated.

Steering them away from a dimly lit alley notorious for its thieves, the young Prince continued, “What if fate, too, gets lazy or slacks off?”

Glover and Kohen wore mirrored grimaces.

“If even fate refuses to reveal its true form to me, only presenting an empty mirror that reflects nothing but my helpless face,” Thales gritted his teeth, “then how can I hope to find the answers I seek?”

Glover pursed his lips, lost in thought, while Kohen widened his eyes, sporting a bewildered expression.

“Have you ever played chess? ‘Rise and Fall of the Empire’?” Thales asked.

Treading through the muddy and obstructed streets of the Lower City District, Thales raised his head in a state of confusion, gazing at the pristine, crystal-clear sky of Eternal Star City.

Glover raised his head and responded, “Yes.”

Kohen sheepishly scratched his head, his voice growing fainter. “Well, uh, hehe, I do know the rules… it’s just that, you see, the old man taught all his chess skills to my cousin…”

Thales gave a slight smile.

“After I came back to the Kingdom, in these days, many people wanted to play chess with me, and I granted each of their requests.” Thales said.

He continued to stride forward, his gaze growing sharper with each step. “However, there was one person who stood out.”

“They used a way of playing that I wasn’t used to.”

They ventured into an unknown street, where houses and alleys pressed closely together. Though it was evident that the place had once been orderly according to its original plan, it was now overrun with beggars and ruffians, trapped in the chaos born out of human misfortune.

“Most people, when they play chess, only pay attention to the pieces and the game.” Thales noted, sidestepping to avoid getting splashed by a passing carriage in the muddy street.

“But them, this person, they’re different.”^[8]

A serious expression settled on the Prince’s face,

“Whether it was six years ago or six years later, they always stood apart, doing things their own way. They didn’t bother with moving the chess pieces, and they didn’t even care about the chessboard or who would win.”^[9]

Glover’s brow furrowed deeper, while Kohen’s gaze grew more confused. Yet, Thales’ words carried an unseen power, causing both of them to instinctively tense up.

“Because they saw something beyond the chessboard, something that didn’t depend on size or rank. They saw people, each lost in their own thoughts, doing things their own way—the chess players.”

His fist clenched tightly. “They understand, or rather, they have absolute certainty,” the Prince seethed, his teeth gritted together, “That the ones making decisions on the chessboard can only ever be the chess players.”

Images of the Legendary Wing, Anker Byrael, Zayen Covendier, and even the shadow seated upon the throne in the Renaissance Palace flashed through Thales’ mind.

“Every chess player, each person who shapes their own path through different choices, always leaves traces behind.”

He took a deep breath. “And they understood this by only looking at the player, treating the player as a chess piece. They likely believe that as long as they understand the chess player, they can easily handle any kind of situation on the chessboard.^[10]

“Just as a King does not owe his greatness to bloodline alone,” Thales lightly pressed his hand against his chest, “but rather, it is the bloodline that thrives because of the King.”^[11]

Glover and Kohen remained silent, one wearing a solemn expression while the other looked perplexed.

Thales began to make sense of his thoughts, his tone laced with caution.

“They were an opponent unlike any I have ever faced. Their moves couldn’t be called ‘good’ or ‘bad’.”

“Connecting different chess players into one of their chessboard.”

“To achieve this, they were willing to tie their own hands, even committing suicide rather than give away their pieces, and not hesitating to flip the chessboard if needed.”

Thales’ gaze drifted into the distance, detached from the present moment. “Just like some players do fancy moves, some plan their moves carefully, some have good tricks, and some think about the whole game…” Thales trailed off

“But them…” Thales let out a sigh, “They are completely focused on one thing, staring at the power button of the game!”^[12]

Finally, Kohen did not feel lonely anymore. Relief washed over him as he noticed Glover wearing a bewildered and puzzled expression.

“Get used to it,” the police officer said, adopting the air of a seasoned veteran and patting Glover’s shoulder with a satisfied smile.

“The Prince is a bit eccentric, often talking about weird things. I’ve seen it…”

“I am his personal guard, always by his side,” Zombie interjected, his tone icy as he brushed off Kohn’s hand without showing any appreciation.

“No need for your reminder.”

But Thales didn’t pay attention to these small details. He was fully focused on his own thoughts.

“They made a choice, or rather, they believed that their choices lay between the King and the chess player, rather than the bloodline or the chessboard.”

The Prince drew in a deep breath, but in that instant, a hint of wistfulness and hesitation arose within him.

“But how can they be so sure?” Thales pondered slowly, “That greatness is sure to come to those revered for their bloodline?”

“That the chess piece on the board is sure to become a player?”

Thales turned his head and asked, “What do you think?”

Glover and Kohen, who were locked in a silent battle of gazes, got startled and quickly regained their focus.

“I cannot provide you with an answer,” Glover said cautiously.

“I, I, I still don’t understand…” Kohen tried hard to figure it out, but his efforts yielded frustration.

“His Highness is playing a game,” Glover coldly explained to his companion, who had an unclear relationship with his sister, “facing a tough opponent, someone from a distant place, someone difficult to handle.”

Glover’s eyes sharpened.

“Or perhaps, more than one.”

Thales nodded in approval.

The police officer blinked and shook his head.

“You guys and your politics, why do you have to beat around the bush…”

Without waiting for Kohen’s response, Thales resumed his forward steps, leaving behind a disappointed Kohen, who had been trying hard to share his insights.

“So, they’re pressuring me, forcing me into the game,” Thales reminisced, his face as cold as ice.

“Or perhaps they know that once someone like me steps into the game…

“Will become the exact player they want.”

Thales unconsciously tensed his muscles.

“That’s why they handed me a sword.”

The Prince kept looking straight ahead, piercing through the streets and alleys as if he could see beyond.

“Because they know, or perhaps they firmly believe, that once I pick up the sword, it doesn’t matter where I point it or what I use it for—whether to defend or attack, to strike or stab—once I take hold of the sword…”

Thales spoke in a low, haunting tone,

“I will never be able to let go of it again.”

Sensing the Duke of Star Lake’s internal struggle and uncertainty, Glover stayed silent, all the while Kohen made an effort to blink his eyes.

“Doesn’t matter where… to point it.. to use it for… the sword… uh…”

Kohen’s gaze was profound at first, then lost.

“I’m sorry, I… I still don’t really get it.”

“It’s all right, Kohen.” Thales came out of his daze and exhaled. “Not understanding is actually a good thing.”

The Prince’s eyes showed a mix of feelings.

“It means you’re lucky.”

“No need to worry.”

However, to their surprise, the police officer decisively shook his head.

“No, no, Your Highness. Even though I know you’re secretly making fun of me, Master Zedi once told me that when you’re unsure whether to wield a sword or not…”

Kohen hesitated for a moment but firmly continued, “That’s when you need to seek your ‘heart of the sword’.”

Thales was taken by surprise. “My what?”

“Your heart of the sword,” Kohen said with gravity and earnestness, “In the Tower of Eradication; without it, you cannot graduate.”

“Hmph,” Glover scoffed, crossing his arms. “It’s that nonsense theory from that stupid tower again.”

Kohen gave Glover a disapproving look, but he didn’t argue with him. Instead, he turned to Thales, saying, “The Tower of Eradication sees the Power of Eradication like this: it’s not just a tool but a reflection of the ‘self’.”

“It’s not just about practising skills; it’s not about mindless repetition, but also about personal growth. It’s about constantly questioning ourselves and understanding the relationship between power and our identity, balancing external and internal factors, merging technique with your character, and aligning your actions with your beliefs. The sword is visible, but the true Power of Eradication comes from within. Only when your inner and outer selves are in harmony can you reach the highest level of the Power of Eradication.”

Thales pondered these words quietly.

Kohn looked back with a nostalgic gaze, continuing, “That’s why, during the training at the Tower of Eradication, every swordsman and fighter must embark on a journey to find their unique ‘heart of the sword’. It’s not about being strong or weak, but about finding what fits them best, what connects with their inner self.”

“Your sword should be in harmony with your heart, sharing the same beliefs.”

“Otherwise, at some point, your heart will disconnect from your sword. Your fighting skills will suffer, and the Power of the Eradication will become sluggish and difficult to handle. It’s like trying to force a cautious and thoughtful swordsman to be reckless and aggressive, or a bold and rough fighter to be precise and refined.”

sword should be in harmony with your heart, sharing the same beliefs

Thales drifted away in his thoughts, remembering Ricky’s explanation of the Power of Eradication in the Prison of Bones.

Glover let out a disdainful snort, “Sounds fancy, but let’s see how it holds up in a real fight…”^[13]

Ignoring Glover’s comment, Kohn looked at Thales and asked, “What about you, Your Highness? Where does your heart of the sword lie?”

Thales fell into silence.

In that moment, he was suddenly reminded of Fakenhaz’s words.

“Hold onto your sword.”

“Don’t lose it.”

But right at that moment, Thales felt a thump in his heart!

“You’ve crossed the line, lads.”

Almost simultaneously, Kohen’s and Glover’s expressions changed. They became alert and serious, bending their knees and assuming battle-ready positions, gripping their swords tightly!

Thales finally noticed that the streets around them had emptied, engulfed in an eerie silence…

Right ahead stood a man with a resolute face and a well-built physique, arms crossed, his piercing gaze locked onto them.

A black band was tied around his left arm, swaying lightly with his movements.

“Looks like the scum along the way were telling the truth,” the man remarked, his eyes shifting as he observed the movements of Kohen and Glover.

“You’re a tough bunch, aren’t you? Wearing those cloaks, daring to meddle in our street affairs.”

Thales couldn’t help but fixate on the black band, his mind drifting away.

“Supra class,” Glover said, his gaze unwaveringly focused on the resolute man.

“He’s giving me an uneasy feeling.”

Kohen took a deep breath,

“I know this guy. He’s on the list of previous offenders in the police station,” the police officer chimed in eagerly.^[14]

“‘Thunder Axe’ Aoschok. He served in the army before, on a warship in the Eastern Sea.”

“Good timing, let’s take him down…” he trailed off, his anticipation evident.

However, at that very moment, Aoschok let out a soft whistle.

Soon, the sound of footsteps resonated from all directions, initially scattered and faint, gradually intensifying to an overwhelming volume.

Within seconds, numerous figures, each with black bands around their arms, emerged from every street corner and alley, converging on the trio, sealing off their escape routes.^[15]

Glover and Kohen quickly assessed the number of assailants, their faces paling in response.

“This…” Kohen’s expression twitched involuntarily.

“There are too many. Far from ordinary,” Glover concluded with a grave tone.

Thales furrowed his brow.

Kohen exhale,

“Damn it. I remember that gloomy-looking guy at the back on the left. ‘Silent Assassin’ Layork. His background is still unknown.”

Thales turned his head to the left, and unsurprisingly, he spotted the familiar face of Layork leaning against the wall, brooding silently. The dozen or so thugs surrounding him refrained from approaching.

“And on the right. That’s ‘Steel Pricker’ Adrienessa. You can always find him causing trouble and collecting debts in the grand bazaar. He’s a reckless Northlander.”^[16]

“It’s strange. The subordinates of these thugs are different; they don’t usually stick together like this,” Kohen contemplated.

Glover remained silent, merely flexing his arm to gauge the impact of his whip injury on his movements.

“Welcome to the Underground street, fancy lads from gods know where,” Aoschok greeted, taking the axe handed to him by his underling. He stepped forward, a smirk on his face as he brandished the glinting blade.

“The Black Street Brotherhood sends its regards,” he declared.

underground street

Thales instinctively took a sniff. Just as he suspected, that faint, elusive stench lingered in the air. It was a place he knew all too well, and Thales couldn’t help but feel a pang of nostalgia.

“But there’s one catch…”

“If you want to have some fun in this place,” Thunder Axe interjected with a shake of his head, “you’ll have to pay the entrance fee.”

Aoschok casually waved his hand, and the surrounding thugs, brimming with ill intentions, closed in on the three.

“I have distress flares to call for backup from the Western City Police Station. Of course, the Chief will undoubtedly give me an earful later and dock my pay,” Kohen grumbled, his hand inching towards his waist.

“I’ve got ‘em too, from the Royal Guards, but the Flag Bearer Division…” Glover muttered with a tinge of frustration.

However, at that very moment, Thales boldly, without any worries, took a step forward!

“Oh, an entrance fee, huh?” he remarked.

Ignoring the dense crowd of Black Brotherhood members, the young man under the cloak gazed directly at Aoschok.

“You know what? I really like it here,” he said.

“The sensation I get every time I come here,” Thales looked around at the familiar streets with a mix of emotions and sighed with nostalgia,

“It feels like coming home.”

[1] ‘indifferent’; 听而不闻 (variant of 视而不见听而不闻), to hear but not react (idiom); to turn a deaf ear, look but see not.

[2] ‘ignored’; 无人问津, to be of no interest to anyone (idiom), Nobody troubles to ask. Or Nobody is interested. ‘Concealed beneath cloaks’; 藏头露尾, to hide the head and show the tail (idiom); to give a partial account.

[3] ‘painting crimson trails’; 头破血流, (idiom) one’s head covered with bumps and bruises—be badly battered; be beaten; be crushed.

[4] ‘pretending not to be interested’; 若无其事, as if nothing had happened (idiom); calmly.

[5] ‘Bullying’; 仗势欺人, to take advantage of one’s position to bully people (idiom), to kick people around.

[6] ‘quite dishevelled’; 狼狈不堪, (idiom) in an extremely awkward position; in a sorry plight; in sore straits. Innate understanding’; 轻车熟路, lit. to drive a lightweight chariot on a familiar road (idiom), fig. to do sth routinely and with ease. ‘confidence and fluidity’; 得心应手, lit. what the heart wishes, the hand accomplishes (idiom) skilled at the job, entirely in one’s element.

[7] ‘can never be retrace’, no turning back.

[8] ‘they’; 他, can be used for either sex when it is either unknown or unimportant.

[9] ‘stood apart’, 与众不同, independent in mind and action (it was used before to describe this person); 特立独行, to stand out from the masses (idiom). But both can mean same thing.

[10] ‘understand’, 抓住, means capture, as in chess. So read the ‘understand’ as ‘grasp or get hold of’.

[11] “A King does not gain respect by virtue of his bloodline. The bloodline’s glory rests on the deeds of the King.”

[12] ‘power button’, I don’t think I should use a less modern terminology here. This is the sentence ‘他只是一心一意，盯着主机电源啊！’

[13] ‘fancy’; 天花乱坠, (idiom) flowers cascading from the sky—an extravagantly colourful description.

[14] ‘eagerly’; 跃跃欲试, to be eager to give sth a try (idiom), itch to have a go.

[15] ‘sealing off escape routes’; 水泄不通, lit. not one drop can trickle through (idiom); fig. impenetrable (crowd, traffic).

[16] ‘causing trouble…’ 欺行霸市, bully people of the same trade and monopolize the market—do business in a overbearing way.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep