Chapter 494 third party

The prince and the duke, both of them were silent for a while.

"So this is what you are doing today."

Tyres pulled out the dagger that was tied to the bed, threw a flower in the air, and grasped the handle accurately between the front blades. After a lot of fighting, the action became more and more skilled. simple.

Looking at the prince's move, Cyril's eyes narrowed.

Tyres picked it up and sank for a while:

"You want to pull me to join you and become a third party outside the two camps. Between the shackles of the stalker and the spurs of the stalwart, hold the starry carriage that runs faster and faster?"

third party.

That moment, as if the clouds in the sky covered the sun, the interior faded.

The Duke’s hands were pressed and pressed on the crutches.

"The horse will not succumb to the iron whip, and the prostitute will not give up the whipping," he said sharply:

"And the person in the carriage, no matter who it is, can't sit and let it fall apart."

Tyres gently bounces the blade between the fingers.

"and so."

Tyres snorted and rudely pointed the sharp point to the Duke:

"All of this, including your inexplicable appearance, is that the sword is threatening to be alarmist, and that the language is long-lasting, is it for this moment?"

Taylor stared at Cyril with a smiley smile.

Cyril looked at him for a while and snorted.

"Do you think I will pull a 14-year-old nephew on the street and tell him about it?"

Cyril cold and cold:

"If I can't confirm what kind of person you are, if you are just an incompetent soft egg with low eyes and low greed, if you are just an impulsive little boy who is raised by the north with muscles, if you are just squatting After reading a few catalogues of history books, I think I am idiots who know the truth of the universe..."

Tyres eyebrows pick one.

The duke looked at him with a squint and dismissed the truth:

"Then you don't deserve to say so much."

The teenager is slightly wrong.

Tyres breathed a sigh of relief and threw the dagger back under the pillow:

"You know, if you want to draw me in a way that boast me, you can actually use some better words."

I saw the West Duke open as if he had missing a piece of fleshy lips, and he smiled sullenly, like a dry corpse opening.

"Reassured, your ears will not lack beautiful words, the return of the prince is the top priority of shaking the stars, and no amount of light will focus on you."

I saw Cyril squinting:

"But you must be more careful and alert."

"The powerful aristocratic lords will rush to find you, win over the princes who have not returned to the country, use all means to get you to stand on their side and turn you into a pioneer against the Fuxing Palace."

The tone of Falkenhaus has changed:

"Before accepting their kindness, please remember: they are only against your father, but you are not really loyal to you."

Taylors is silent.

He suddenly remembered the words of the fast rope.

[The shackles of power. 】

How can he do it... a different way of living?

Read this, Tyres took a deep breath and looked up:

"They won't succeed."

Cyril disdain shook his head:

“When I say ‘bringing’, I mean not just knocking on the door.”

Tyres frowned and turned his lips:

"Of course, maybe it involves intimidating the sword, and then telling me, 'Can the carriage be scattered?'"

This time it was the silence of Cyril.

After a few seconds, the Duke was faintly authentic:

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

It was foggy at Tellston.

Cyril scorned:

"Remember what I said today."

He held out his fingers and shook his mouth:

"All."

Cyril’s eyes are glowing:

"In case you have a day to use it."

He paused for a second, quite wickedly lifting his lips:

"All."

Tyres stared at the duke of this look, and his heart became uncomfortable.

But Cyril quickly changed the subject:

"Beyond these, you have to be careful with your father."

father.

The nerves of Tyres slowly tightened.

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

The voice of the duke echoed in the ear, with a different meaning:

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

"but……"

The tone of Falkenhaus changed again, but he suddenly fell silent, and it seemed as if he had entered the cloudy sky in an instant, and it was raining.

He stared at Tyres tightly, his horrible face with cold eyes, and the latter was tight.

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

The duke's tone and rhythm have become heavy and slow, letting Taylor think of Ptoile when he was a poet:

"Who can think of it, obviously a few months ago, our old bones are still in the air, but we are afraid that the northern part of the country will go south again."

Cyril gently exhaled and pointed to Tyres:

"There are people. Some people just sneak a slap in the face of the tyrannical and aggressive dragon kingdom, and they are riddled with riddled holes."

"You know, what does that mean?"

Strong and unconstrained, aggressive...

I’m so riddled with holes, I’m not worried about it...

What does it mean?

Taylor couldn't help but think of the nightmare in Longyan City.

Dragon blood.

He looked at his own Cyril and unnaturally cleared his throat:

"You are too high to see me."

The prince sighed:

" Six years ago, it was just an accident, it was a tragedy, and I have no credit in it..."

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

“Less self-love.”

Tyres was stunned by this sentence and his face became quite ugly.

The unpopular duke is cold and cold:

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

He pointed to the ancient sword that was leaning against the wall.

"In the past seven hundred years, the warnings have witnessed a lot of history," Cyril was extremely dignified:

"More than you think."

Tyres felt the cold eyes of Cyril, and an ominous premonition came.

"So I know."

Just listen to the Duke’s whisper:

"The so-called "disaster and disaster" of Longyan City is definitely not an accident, or a rare coincidence."

The disaster has come to an end.

Not an accident.

At that moment, Tyres pressed his thighs tightly.

Fortunately, Cyril did not look at him again.

The Duke adults walked to the edge of the window and looked at the camp faintly:

“Although they are subtly concealed and blurred, rendered and whitewashed, and then lengthened over time, they eventually become passers-by hearsay and bedtime stories...”

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

Exist, and true.

Taylors breathed a sigh of relief.

He breathed deeply and covered up the changes in mood.

Cyril’s voice is sharper and more urgent:

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

The next moment, the Duke of the Western Wilderness turned suddenly, and the eyes were as direct as Tels!

"No matter what happened in Longyan City, that is what your father did."

He is arrogant:

"He and Morat's old viper, in some way."

It is what your father did.

Tyres quietly looked back at the other side, enduring the **** memories of the back and forth in his mind.

But no matter how he ignores it, he still can't help but think of those pictures:

The blue light in the eyes of Aishida, the purple lines on the face of Giza, the tears between the small cheeks, the scarred body of the black sword, and the strange mouth on Raphael's arm.

as well as……

King Noon fell to the head of the ground.

"Your father's board is ruthless, and you don't know how his next step will go."

"Is it to ignore the rules, or to smash the board."

At this time, the Duke’s face was serious and his tone was indifferent:

"Child, be strong."

"Don't be a piece of chess that is arbitrarily and casually sacrificed."

Arbitrarily at the mercy.

Feel free to sacrifice.

Feeling the obvious provocation of the other side, Taylors took a deep breath and spit it out slowly.

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

The prince's tone was quite a bit rejected.

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

"And he is my father."

But this is another spur of Cyril:

"Who knows."

The Duke of Falkenhaus is cold and cold:

"Four hundred years ago, "Elevation King" Elan Comet I had sacrificed to sacrifice the gods in order to pray for victory."

Kill the gods.

Tyres’s breath was stagnation and his fists were pinched.

The duke looked into the distance and had a long tone:

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

Taylor closed his eyes.

"Your father and his enemies..."

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

"But six years later, the second round begins on the day you return to the country."

The duke's tone is somewhat afraid of people:

"And that will never be easier."

The room was silent again.

Until Taylors slowly opened his eyes.

"So, the Duke, neither a nobleman nor a third party to the royal power."

Cyril’s eyes were awkward, and he felt that the prince at this moment was a little different.

"If that day really comes," Taylor looked straight at him:

"Can I count on your strength?"

The two were silent for a while.

As if they all know what this moment means.

After a few seconds, the Duke slowly opened his mouth without a smile on his face:

"If I am the one-eyed dragon in the cliff, I will say ‘can’.”

Tyres snorted in his nose:

"But you are not."

The duke slowly nodded and then shook his head:

"I'm not."

The prince sighed.

of course.

He understood.

But Tyres immediately thought of something and snorted.

"Do you know that people in the Northland don't ask ‘can'.'

The prince's tone is quite nostalgic:

“They just ask ‘do not do it’.”

The duke could not help.

But after a few seconds, Falkenhaus laughed:

"Sometimes I am very grateful to the people of the Northland - even if I have no brains, at least we have an interesting prince for us."

Taylors also laughed:

"This is the third time you have smashed them. Why do you hate the North?"

The Duke of Cyril paused for a moment and his face looked complicated.

"Because my mother is a Northlander."

Taylors stunned.

The Duke’s Lord looked at Tyres and put his finger on his face: “Give you a message...”

"Don't learn me."

The words, not to wait for the sensation of the test, the Duke of the West, laughed loudly.

In the sharp and mean laughter of the other party, the face of Taylors gradually cooled down.

"How do I know?"

The duke's laughter came to an abrupt end.

The prince stared at Cyril, with full caution:

"The third party - although you are very arrogant, how can I know that you don't just want to push me to the cusp of the struggle, take me as a shield and a siege hammer?"

The room was quiet for a moment.

It wasn't until Frankenhaus took a sigh of relief, as if he had figured it out.

He snorted and looked back at Taylors:

"One year ago, when you were playing snowman in Longyan City..."

"Your father secretly sent a letter asking us to mobilize the army to rescue his heir to the throne."

Taylor's thoughts are minimal:

a year ago?

The prince returned to the country, this game, this game, how long has it been laid out?

Cyril seems to be ecstatic, and he continues:

"The priests of the Western Expedition - my vassals thought they had caught a rare opportunity. They had a feverish mind and they were struggling to extort. They wanted to return to the blade camp from the 'host' of the royal family. accepted."

Having said that, the eyes of the Duke of Falkenhaus:

"But one of my courtiers has discouraged me from sending troops. He thinks this is a trap of no good intentions."

Tyres frowned.

The duke looked coldly at the blade camp under the window and suddenly turned.

"Fakkenhaz is still sending troops."

"Even if I know there is a problem."

"Do you know why?"

Tyres silently looked at him for a few seconds and opened his eyes.

"You said it."

The prince looked away, slightly ironic:

"In the face of the vassal, you don't want to be the one who replaced the king and prevented the princes from regaining power. They fell in both sides."

He ridiculed:

"For example, aren't you just getting them back to get back to the field? Third party?"

This time, Falkenhaus looked at him for a long time.

"Do not."

Duke’s slow opening

"because……"

"From the ruthless king to the frenzied princes, I am the only one in this power game."

The only person?

Taylors is a bit stunned.

"When the legendary wing and my vassals are staring at the blade camp, no one cares about the business in the desert, no one cares about the heir to the kingdom that should have been the protagonist..."

Cyril is slowly getting serious:

"I am the only one who believes..."

"I believe that compared to the ownership of the Blades, compared to the power of the nobility, compared to the success or failure of the Majesty..."

The duke leaned over his back and almost put his head on the crutches, leaning far away from the wales, and the right hand on the crutches pointed to the second prince:

"Rescue you, rescue the Prince of Tells and come back safely."

"It is what everyone really should care about - the first priority."

Tyres stared at Falkenhaus, and he was in a complicated mood.

Cyril straightened up and covered the old state and the dying.

His eyes are sharp and seem to penetrate everything.

"Ok."

Tyres opened his mouth with difficulty:

"You are not bad when you talk about beautiful words..."

But the Duke opened his mouth again and interrupted him!

"and so!"

"I have prevented some lords from secretly leaking information to the Exeter side, obstructing your sinful move back to the country."

Cyril Yang said.

Taylors a glimpse.

The duke's tone became melodious, greatly reducing the sharpness of his nephew:

"So, Baron Guz will lead the most efficient Raven Whisker, against the orders of his immediate superiors, and spare no effort to search for you, even the orcs will not let go."

Taylor did not respond for a moment.

But he quickly realized that something was wrong.

Baron Guz.

Ravens light ride.

The familiar term makes Taylors look up!

"Who?"

He is screaming at Cyril:

"Who are you talking about?"

But Falkenhaus only looked at him with interest.

Two seconds later, the Duke seemed to appreciate the expression of Taylors, which was slow and authentic:

"and so……"

"You and your caravan, you can go all the way to the Blades Camp without any hindrance after you have separated from the deserted Kandar Nu Mountain in the desert."

Tyres’ mind stopped for a moment.

Caravan.

Kandar Nushan.

All the way, no obstacles...

impossible.

Tyres looked at the indifferent duke:

"how do you know--"

But Tyres lowered his head and gave birth to the next words.

He remembered it.

"The Baron Guz."

Taylors subconsciously:

"I met in the desert, the commander who chased the orc with the freak squad..."

Taylor looked up and looked straight at Cyril, but he couldn’t cover the surprise:

"Is he yours?"

Cyril chuckled, confident and relaxed.

"Before the Baron of the town of Emory, who was under the leadership of the Croma family, Van Chaus Guz was my courtier."

The room was quiet for a few seconds.

It wasn't until Tyres made a hard breath.

"So..."

He asked incredibly:

"Whether I met the army in the desert, or I entered the blade camp, you always... know?"

and.

If the baron is his person, then he heard it in my pub...

The duke made a disturbing laugh.

"More than that."

At that moment, Cyril’s hazy sneer listened to the monks:

"I know that the blade camps that are at your fingertips are full of ominousness. I know that the movement of the royal reserve army must be flawed. I know that the mercenary dog ​​legs of Williams are just around the corner. I also know that the orcs that Guz met in the desert are no coincidence. ""

The Duke's words are like a steel knife, reflecting the sharp cold light.

what did he say?

Taylors breathed in amazement.

The blade camp is full of ominous.

The trend of the standing army.

The mercenary dog ​​legs are just around the corner.

It is no coincidence that the orcs are.

This information, this information...

This means...

Tyres frowned at the Duke:

"You know all... but you didn't show up, didn't come to me, didn't even fight in the camp. When the legendary wing regained the camp, it didn't help the West lords. You just, just..."

Cyril exhaled breathlessly:

"I just let Guz go far after making sure you enter the camp. I just let the skull guards of the Falkenhaz family rotate early, away from the center of the whirlpool, away from the trap of this smashing."

"Let Williams the **** and finish his hunting."

Tyres couldn't help but ask for an exit:

"why?"

"Before everything begins, you clearly have the intelligence and ability to reverse the situation, but sit on the conflict between the royal family and the West, and sit down and watch your vassals... the loss is heavy?"

The Duke of the Western Plains laughed.

"Because this conflict is a must, and it can only be this ending."

Cyril looked at the blade camp outside the window and seemed to ponder:

"Western princes lost this game, lost the people and prestige, and smashed their faces; His Majesty won this game, saved the blade camp and beat the opponent."

"The two sides are just going back to the situation before."

Tyres thought and suddenly figured it out.

Sure enough, Cyril turned back:

"But imagine that if I succeeded in interfering with this handy game, I would force the royal army to save the princes' losses and help them regain control of the western frontline... What are the consequences?"

Tyres sighed.

The Duke continued:

"My stupid vassals, when they are celebrating the championship, will they be satisfied with their satisfaction, or will they be able to increase their strength?"

"And people like your father will accept the reality, give up on it, or after obsessing with me and the strength of the West,..."

Cyril's tone has become terrible:

"Do you go all out and pay back 100 times?"

The duke sneered.

"The problem is coming..."

Falkenhaus’s ugly face reveals a deep gully:

“Will the ruins be the next cold castle or the next Longyan city?”

“Sometimes, doing nothing is the best option.”

Tyres leaned against the wall.

The Duke’s words were very light, but they gave him a heavy feeling of smashing the top.

He has just returned from the North, and he is accustomed to the words of the North, which are not a big hit, and threaten to intimidate the knife and blood - at least for the nobility.

But after today, he suddenly understood a lot.

The implementation of the Star Kingdom is another set of rules of the game.

Another...the shackles of power.

The prince's eyes became bleak.

"Now, is this enough to prove it?"

Cyril is cold and cold:

"I am neither the kind of aristocrat in your impression, nor your father."

"It's really in the Stars, the colosseum where you live and die, the third one."

third party.

Tyres closed his eyes tightly.

Quietness lasted for almost thirty seconds.

Until Cyril slowly sounded:

"Well, Williams is probably patrolling back, I don't want to meet him - Gaohe can't do him."

Tyres opened his eyes and watched the Duke adults whisper to him:

"Happy conversation - you can continue your lunch."

The thoughtfully complicated Tyles sighed and gave him a gift.

Hey, hey, hey.

In the robe of the leather robe, the Duke of the Western Wilderness turned around with a mysterious smile and walked to the door.

But what Taylors saw.

"Duke of the Duke, you forgot your sword!"

The prince frowned and pointed at the beautiful arch of the ancient sword against the wall - the warning.

Boom.

The duke's cane was born on the ground.

But before Taylors expected, Cyril opened another word.

"Do not!"

The Duke of the West was turned around and cold and cold:

"You forgot your sword."

Taylors was in awe.

I saw Cyril squinting and pointed to the ancient imperial sword at the wall:

"From this moment on, the warning is yours."

Taylors stunned.

"Hold it and grab your sword."

Just listening to the Duke of the Western Wilderness, Cyril Falkenhaus of the Skull Family of the Four Eyes seems to have a deep meaning:

"Don't lose it."

After all, the Duke turned and stepped out of the door.

His last words came from outside the room:

"And, say hello to the kid of the Cartu family - if he is not dead yet."

(End of this chapter)