Kingdom's Bloodline

Chapter 553: Sacrificing a Pawn (Two)

Translator: EndlessFantasy Translation Editor: EndlessFantasy Translation

Seeing the situation take a nose-dive, Baron Doyle being taken hostage, while in pain, shouted, “Wait a minute! We can still talk this through...”

But Anker, who was already pissed off, clearly was not in the mood to hear him plead. He clasped the old baron’s neck with one hand, forcing the latter’s words back into his throat.

“I’ve had enough of the viciousness and hypocrisy of your entire family! Doyle!” the hostage-taker said in rage, “Whether the men or the women, the young or the old!”

Behind Thales, the still-hesitant Doyle was glaring so intensely that his eyes seemed like they were going to pop out at any second. His arms were trembling.

Procca had to rush forward to help Glover hold him.

As captain, Mallos remained silent as he merely took measure of the hostage-taker with a frosty gaze.

The old baron was obviously having trouble breathing as his face turned beet red. This caused the baroness to shriek, “Argh! You cold-blooded brat! If you dare touch my man, I swear I will...”

Recognizing that the situation was getting worse, Count Godwin signaled for a few court ladies to hold the baroness back to prevent her from provoking the hostage-taker further. After some persuasion, they managed to drag her back into the crowd.

Panic and worry spread, and the guests began to talk again. The guards worked hard to maintain order.

“You! Doyle’s son!”

Engulfed in rage, Anker pointed at Doyle in the upper tier. “Stop hiding behind a woman!

“Come down here!”

Thales observed the maniacal Anker from a distance with a heavy heart.

‘That man, he’s disappointed,’ Thales muttered inside.

‘Hysterical.

‘All because of a duel.

‘But he’s just a chess piece: he exists to fulfil a small move in someone’s chess game.’

At this thought, Thales felt even sadder.

The guards separating the crowd from the assassin were on edge, but Anker seemed to maintain the last of his reason and did not kill the baron nor act rashly towards anyone else.

All he did was glare at Doyle. “Let’s finish this! Like men!”

“Son of a bitch—” Doyle was about to rush down subconsciously, but was halted by the well-prepared Procca and Glover. “Let go of me!”

“At least she gained some advantage. People’s perception has swayed,” Vogel ignored Doyle’s loss of self-control. He looked around the crowd and frowned. “If we take him down with snipers now, maybe...”

“No,” Mallos, eyes fixed on Anker, shook his head, “Our audience is not just those in the hall, but the entire kingdom. They are ignorant and only care about the outcome.

“This chess puzzle is still unsolved.”

Chess puzzle.

Watching the situation that not only had not eased but was worsening, Thales felt exhausted and distressed.

In a distance, Zayen, Koshder, and Val were observing the situation silently but never had any intention of intervening.

The Seven Jadestar Attendants, Lady Elainor, Lozano, Adrian, Patterson, and Stone, seemed to sympathize. Their gazes were fixed on the prince, anticipating his reaction.

“So...”

Vogel frowned and leaned towards Doyle.

“Have you made up your mind? Vanguard Doyle?”

Vogel repeated Mallos’ words softly, “About sacrificing a pawn.”

Hearing the vice-captain’s words, Doyle shuddered and his emotions shifted.

“Duel, then die,” Vogel said calmly, like an emotionless robot.

Doyle’s anger eased.

He stared blankly at his father being taken hostage.

Holding on to a last sliver of hope, he turned towards Thales and Mallos pleadingly.

But the prince tightly pursed his lips and said nothing.

What could he do?

Hold Doyle back, and allow Anker to kill his father?

Allow Doyle to duel and die intentionally under Anker’s sword?

What else could he do besides ‘sacrificing a pawn’?

Think quick, think quick!

Mallos saw the prince’s brows twitch but kept silent.

“Now, you’re the only one who can save your father and break the deadlock,” Vogel said coldly into Doyle’s ear, “It’s best if you realize this sooner than later.”

Doyle turned around stiffly, his gaze showing despair.

“Duel, die...”

He stared towards Anker and the old baron in a daze and kept muttering, “Duel, die, duel, die, duel, die...”

Unable to bear this sight, Thales turned away and forced himself to focus and come up with a solution.

Should he just ignore everything and order the guards to kill the hostage-taker, and be over with it once and for all?

As for after, the consequences...

Whatever. As long as they can get through the current hardship and pain, who cares if the sky falls down later?

Should he let his father clean up the mess?

No, he can’t...

Thales’ thoughts became more chaotic.

Glover could not bear to see his colleague in a pitiful state. He held Doyle by the shoulders from behind and said solemnly, “Doyle, cheer up.”

But Doyle subconsciously shook him off.

“As long, as long as I die in duel,” Doyle said distractedly, “Father...can be saved? The problem will be resolved?”

Thales could not bear it anymore, but just as he was about to speak, Mallos suddenly spoke, “It’s not that simple.”

The guards looked at him in unison.

The watchman’s gaze was still on Anker, who had a distorted look on his face.

“Ever since a while ago, this Anker, his gaze shows that he is unafraid of death, unwavering.

“I think, he might have the same goal as you,” Mallos steadily and calmly told Doyle his conclusion, “and intends to die in your hands in this duel.”

Doyle’s distracted gaze shifted.

Thales frowned and looked towards Anker.

“Yes, only then,” Vogel said grimly, “can he reap the greatest benefit.”

Mallos nodded. “See, as their chess piece, he faces the same fate.”

He looked at Doyle with a profound gaze.

“They are sacrificing a pawn.”

The watchman glanced at Thales.

“Checkmate.”

Thales shut his eyes.

Sacrificing a pawn.

Checkmate.

Sacrificing whose pawn?

Checkmate against whom?

Doyle was still breathing distractedly and occasionally muttering something.

But Anker was tired of waiting.

“Answer me! Son of Doyle! Do you dare accept my challenge to a fair duel?”

The hostage-taker’s fury and the old baron’s wails of pain stimulated the nerves of the crowd and created another wave of uproar.

“Perhaps I can start with this old varmint’s limbs!

“See how much blood he’s got in him!”

As Anker moved his blade towards the baron’s wrist, Thales tensed up.

Shit.

“Alright,” seeing Doyle in a state of panicked confusion, Vogel scoffed at Mallos. “If you are unwilling to get your hands dirty, watchman, then I’ll do it.”

He turned towards his own subordinates.

“Gather the Flag Bearer Division, pick four of them. I want the best snipers...”

But in the next moment, a loud and bright voice interrupted them all.

“Duke Thales!”

The banquet hall fell silent.

Everyone looked towards the speaker.

It was Doyle.

The person who had shouted the duke’s name was not Anker, but Doyle.

He slowly looked up, there was no longer confusion in his gaze.

But instead there was a layer of gloom.

“Give the order, Your Grace!” Doyle yelled. Everyone could hear him clearly.

But Thales could hear agony in his voice.

“I, Danny Doyle, son of the Baron of Mirror River!”

Under the gaze of the entire hall, Doyle took a step forward and continued through gritted teeth, “For the sake of my father and family, in accordance with ancient customs of the Empire, witnessed by Duke Thales and everyone present, I am willing to accept his challenge.

“And duel to the death against this despicable scum!”

Thales looked at his personal guard incredulously, then turned to Mallos.

But the latter seemed to have anticipated this; he was indifferent.

Doyle glared at Anker, who had a goading and eager look, and avoided looking at his stunned father.

“I am willing to defend our honor and reputation,” Doyle said mechanically, as if his mouth wasn’t his, “As long as...you release my father.”

After he finished this sentence, Doyle, who was drenched in cold sweat, swayed as if he had been deflated.

Until Glover held on to him.

The guests were initially silent, but a small commotion broke out right after.

Controversy filled the hall again.

“Very well, very well!”

“There’s still a man in the Doyle family, I see.”

The Anker who had received a response looked at the dazed Doyle and grinned. But Thales could not sense any happiness or satisfaction from him.

Only a different kind of desolation.

Thales said through gritted teeth, “Doyle...”

Vice-captain Vogel pursed his lips and looked at Doyle with a complex gaze.

Mallos was equally silent, but his expression was much calmer.

“No, no, no!”

In the hall, the old baron who was being held hostage by Anker could no longer be bothered about his pain and embarrassment. He shouted exasperatedly, “Kid, what...what foolishness is this!”

Doyle snapped out of it and glanced at his father, forcing a weak smile.

The old baron looked towards his wife in a panic. “Dear, stop him, stop him, quick!”

But the baroness was also in shock. She looked around frantically, but only received sympathy in return.

“Your Highness? Anyone? Anyone?”

Panic-stricken, the old baron said in a tearful voice, “Anyone! Stop that unfilial son. Knock him out! The Doyles will repay your deed, heavily!”

“I will gift you half, no, forty percent of my income this year! Forty percent? Alright, half then! Sixty percent? Seventy percent?”

The baron’s yells echoed between the pillars. Apart from the flickering lights, there was no reply.

Despondent and helpless.

At this sight, Thales felt an indescribable sadness.

But he could not reveal it.

He had to maintain the most elegant, most transcendent, and most noble posture.

Because he was the second prince.

The Duke of Star Lake.

Under the spotlight of countless gazes, Doyle took a deep breath, adjusted himself, and strode forward.

“Byrael! I have accepted your challenge!” Doyle roared at Anker, “Now, let my father go. I’ll play with you!

“Let’s put an end to our grievances!”

Anker smiled.

He did not release the old baron, but instead turned towards Thales.

“Duke Thales. Your Highness?

“The instigator and opponent of the duel are both present. Only the noble witness is left.”

There was hunger, anticipation, desperation, and madness in Anker’s gaze.

Doyle turned around and saw a rare gloom in Thales’ eyes.

The old baron stared at him and shook his head frantically, pleading with his eyes.

The royal guards looked at him, their expressions low-key and restrained with no discernable demands.

“Your Highness.”

Vogel quietly stepped forward to his side. “This is an obligatory righteousness, and a necessary evil.”

Mallos too, sighed. “At the critical moment, it’s a pawn that must be sacrificed.”

Thales clenched his fists.

Sacrificing a pawn.

This fucking pawn-sacrificing business again.

Pawn.

The guests eyed him in a rapacious and overbearing manner, an assortment of emotions in their gazes.

Countless gazes focused aggressively on the prince, awaiting his response.

Zayen seemed to be subtly relishing the situation, Koshder looked austere, whereas Val looked at Thales with no discernable emotion.

The Seven Jadestar Attendants stared fixedly at him, as if the prince’s decision will be an irrefutable edict.

No one knew that, what Thales—who was expressionless—wanted to do most was sit down, bury his head, shut his eyes and ignore every gaze and voice.

And let his subordinates handle the troublesome situation.

This way, he might be able to conceal his cornered and clueless moment with the unassailable dignity of the royal family.

But he could not.

Because he was the second prince.

He could not.

He was the Duke of Star Lake.

“Your Highness, announce it.”

Doyle’s words were somewhat listless, like a terminal patient who had lost hope.

“Let it come, the sooner the better.

“And save yourself the trouble.”

Thales’ expression was blank but he was agonizing inside.

Alright.

The sooner the better.

Save the trouble.

Finally, after a few seconds (but to Thales seemed like an eternity), the Duke of Star Lake, maintaining his most proper and noble posture, stood up slowly and said loudly, “Anker Byrael,”

At the sound of his voice, everyone in the hall, from officials to bureaucrats, from nobles to traders, listened carefully to the returning prince’s words, and exhibited—at least superficially—uniform obedience.

“In the name of the Duke of Star Lake of Constellation, the second prince, Thales Jadestar,”

The duke’s deep voice garnered respect from the crowd, but only those who had served him for long knew, that the prince voice right now was hoarser and gloomier than usual.

Wearier.

“In accordance with a long-established tradition of the Empire, I hereby approve the challenge to duel to the death that you have issued against another noble, Danny Doyle, for the sake of avenging your blood relative.”

Doyle lowered his head and exhaled a long breath.

Thales’ expression was grim as he looked at Anker, who had looked forward to this moment.

“And I shall personally witness its outcome.

“To ensure its fairness and legitimacy.

“Is that enough?”

Thales stopped speaking and the hall was enveloped by silence.

Until a few seconds later, Anker responded in an equally fatigued voice, “Thank you, Your Highness. Thank you.”

Under countless gazes, he seemed to break free from his restraint and shoved the old baron aside.

Baron Doyle fell to the ground but did not leave. He remained paralyzed on the spot, sobbing softly and gasping in agony.

The guards took the chance to help him up and lead him away.

Several of them hesitated about whether they should use this opportunity to attack the hostage-taker, but Count Godwin sighed, shook his head and signaled to them that it was unnecessary now.

“Whether you believe it or not, Your Highness,” Anker said with a wry smile, “You and this brat Doyle, you’re the only ones out of the hundreds of people I’ve met these past months that have been willing to respond to my request.”

Without a grandiose act, no one would listen.

Thales recalled his words and could not help but feel dispirited inside.

“Whether I live or die, win or lose, Thales Jadestar, Your Highness, Your Grace.

Anker took a deep breath, knelt down sincerely, put the hilt of his sword to his chest, lowered his head and said, “I will forever remember...

“Your grace.”

Thales slumped into his seat and closed his eyes.