387 So Many Tricks

Before pushing Dean's door open, Thales envisaged many possibilities.

The present situation was that the suspicious and ruthless mercenary prince showed a non-cooperative attitude and regarded him as an enemy, then would be constantly vigilant against Thales.

But the man's reaction was a little overboard.

"You don't have to do this."

Thales stared at Moriah as he felt the stinging pain on his neck. He lifted his hands in surprise and bewilderment to signal at Moriah.

He calmed his breathing and also suppressed the surging Sin of Hell's River, squashing down its desperate urge to counterattack. "I said I would keep my promise and let you go. No one would look for you, and you won't be in any trouble."

"You 'said'?"

Moriah's voice was rather unusual. It was calm and indifferent, "This does not sound like a strong guarantee."

The other person did not completely suppress him, but the knife in his hand was skillfully and accurately pressed against his carotid artery. Thales could even clearly feel the flow of the blood in his neck.

'Damn.'

The Prince of Constellation tried to keep calm. Behind him was his luggage, and it was pushing against the headboard of the bed, digging into his back and hurting him.

But the former Prince of Eckstedt's paranoia and vigilance made him extremely uneasy. The other person seemed to have totally changed, as if Dean the former mercenary with a cheerful smile and easy-going personality had died, and what remained in him was this cold and cruel man.

Thales even regretted his decision slightly at the moment. Perhaps he should have gone to the army right from the beginning.

He might not go to the horrible officers in the Great Desert, but he would at least go to Constellation's army in the camp, then come to this place without fear of anything going wrong to face this man, who could possibly be Moriah.

'But…'

Thales shook his head in his mind and drove the idea away.

No.

He cannot.

"What guarantee do you want, Moriah, my life?"

"If I really want to get rid of you, I could have done so by going to my army while I was in the Great Desert, or even now. With them as my trump cards, I can easily kill you or spare you with just one word."

Thales tried to figure out the man's mindset and thoughts.

"But I did not do it. The reason I did this…'

Thales gulped as he felt a sting on his neck.

"No matter how I deal with you, Moriah, once I use the army and the power of the kingdom, your identity can no longer be kept secret." The Prince of Constellation took a deep breath and tried to move his neck backwards.

"No matter what I say, even if I give the order to let you go, the Secret Intelligence Department and the others who are interested in you will notice the mercenary that the prince keeps his eyes on. They will find out his entire back story, all his details, and his secrets. They will eventually figure out everything."

Moriah continued to stare at him, and his eyes reflected the dim moonlight, making his eyes sparkle coldly.

Thales noticed... there was a hint of coldness and a mocking look on his face.

His uneasiness became worse.

"If the Secret Intelligence Department figures out your identity as the supposedly dead person who was the first-in-line to inherit Dragon Clouds City …"

Thales gritted his teeth. "They won't let you live.

"If you fall into the hands of the Secret Intelligence Department, then you will not be able to turn back anymore…

"This is something you and I don't want to see."

Thales gasped as he thought deeper and farther into this issue.

'If Moriah fell into the hands of the Secret Intelligence Department…

'That girl.

'That girl in Dragon Clouds City.

'Her identity, her bloodline, and the truth of that night will be revealed to the Black Prophet, and it'll just be a matter of time before he knows…' 

Thales thought bitterly.

At that time, her fate might be one hundred times worse than being threatened by King Chapman. At least Chapman was still concerned over the legitimacy of his throne and would more or less protect the archduchess' fragile status.

As the head of the Secret Intelligence Department, Morat Hansen was not Thales. The old man in black with his staff had no connections with the archduchess.

As the creator of 'Dragon's Blood', as long as he could use a certain thing to help him gain benefits, the Black Prophet would never care if that poor girl was dismembered or beheaded.

That girl.

That girl in the library, the girl with glasses.

Six years ago, he brought that girl out of Heroic Spirit Palace, and the girl went back to Heroic Spirit Palace because of him.

That girl who held back her subjects desperately for his sake during the day of state affairs hearing...

Thales seemed to feel that the glasses in front of his chest suddenly bore an extraordinary weight.

Moriah's pupils slowly focused.

"You don't seem to trust the Kingdom's Secret Intelligence Department that serves you?"

This made Thales thought of what happened six years ago.

He thought of Dragon's Blood.

'No. I can't.'

Thales clenched his fists tightly.

'The Secret Intelligence Department must not know about Moriah.'

He could not go to the army and have them deal with this matter at the cost of destroying Saroma.

'Everything that happened in the Hall of Heroes that night must be kept an eternal secret. King Nuven is dead, Nicholas and Lisban must also shut up, as for King Chapman…'

Thales thought coldly.

No one can this secret again to create the second 'Dragon's Blood.'

Thales calmed down and grimaced. "Trust is a rare thing in this era, huh?"

Moriah's expression changed slightly.

"But why did you believe in me?"

He whispered and made the knife in his hand shift slightly, changing its angle on Thales' neck, but it was still pressed tightly against Thales' carotid artery.

"Because you have no other better options."

Thales slowly said, "Listen to me, Moriah. Leave now, as if nothing has happened. From this moment on, conceal your identity, hide from Lampard's claws and the Secret Intelligence Department's line of sight. At least, you will have freedom.

"I believe that's what you value."

This time, Moriah looked at him for a long time, but the pressure of the knife against Thales' neck did not relax at all.

Thales looked back at him, hoping that he would regain some form of rationality.

Finally, Moriah laughed.

"Hahahaha..."

His laughter was as cold as ice.

This made Thales feel tense again, right after he had, with much difficulty, relaxed his nerves.

But the terrible part was not Moriah's laughter. It was what he said next.

"You misunderstood, Your Highness."

Moriah said slowly and enunciated each of his words carefully, "I just asked…

"Why do you believe...

"That I am Moriah Walton?"

Thales was stunned for three seconds as soon as the man said these words.

'What?

'He said…'

Night in Blade Fangs Camp was rather quiet. The forts and houses blocked the wind and the sand. They also blocked the transmission of sound.

At this moment, the atmosphere in this small room was so quiet that it was terrifying.

Thales stared at his opponent incredulously.

"I don't understand," he said subconsciously.

Moriah snorted coldly.

"Of course you don't understand." The mercenary's gaze was sharp. "Just like the fish who was caught by a fishing pole doesn't understand why there would be bait on the hook."

Thales's hands trembled.

'Wait a minute.'

The prince cast a glimpse at 'Moriah', who had Thales' life in his hands, and felt a chill in his heart.

'No.

'No.'

He finally realized that he had made a fatal mistake.

"It's too obvious."

Thales murmured.

He stared at the 'Moriah' in front of him in a daze and remembered something crucial that he had neglected for a long time.

"It's too obvious. Your hair, your eyes, your mannerisms, your political views, your knowledge towards the orc language, including your skills with your axe, and your identity as a mercenary. Even your origins as a Northlander and your accent…"

Moriah's face revealed a creepy, cold sneer.

The Prince of Constellation stared at the mercenary in shock.

His brain spun to begin thinking of the things that he had not bothered to think.

He recalled the first time they met.

From that moment on, this excellent and outstanding mercenary led Dante's Greatsword in negotiating, fighting, and surviving in the complicated, vast desert. He lived an impressive life as a mercenary. and the mercenary's life has been vivid.

He was even… a little famous.

"It's too obvious."

Thales' pupils focused on the man. His heart raced, and his breathing quickened.

"You are a mercenary, running all over the peninsular all year round, rushing back and forth in a flamboyant manner… but you don't hide your skills. In fact, you show off your skills without fear." Thales shuddered due to his own thoughts.

"You are practically telling those few people who know that Moriah is still alive that the prince is here.

"This is not something that people who have been fleeing for years will do."

Moriah… no, Dean continued smiling.

"Your reaction after you were exposed... was also very strange.

"No, you are not him." Thales stared at the man before him, and his face turned pale.

"You are not Moriah Walton," he said in a dumbfounded manner.

He finished speaking.

The house was as quiet as before.

The moon was dim, and it shone on Dean's face, which made him look pale and gloomy at the moment.

Then, the first thing that broke the silence was his low, faltering laughter.

Dean's shoulders shook slightly, but his hand as he held the knife was as steady as ever.

The bald mercenary said faintly, "No, I am not."

Thales' breathing stopped for a moment.

"I just didn't expect that you would be so interested in Moriah." Dean held the knife in his left hand with a steady grip and whispered, "In the original plan, it would have taken me a little more effort and cost to get you out of the army with its heavy defenses."

Thales sucked in a deep breath. He did not even care that he might endanger his own neck if his range of movements was too large.

He could no longer care about so many things at this moment.

At this moment, his heart was filled with horror and remorse.

"Why?"

Thales's chest heaved. "Who are you?!"

Dean shook his head and sighed softly.

He bent down to get closer to Thales' face and used the knife to suppress his target's resistance. "At first, when I was sent to carry this task, I was full of confidence. Only the people with the most potential and ability could get the honor of going deep into the enemy's territory and get involved in their most profound and unpleasant secrets.

"I was to find the prince who was supposed to be dead for years."

Thales was startled.

'Carry out the task…

'Going deep into the enemy's territory…

'To find the prince… who was supposed to be dead for years?

'He…

'He came to…'

"But as time flies, as I searched day after day, I obtained no results. After years of investigation, I found no news of the prince."

Dean's voice was particularly cold.

"Moriah seemed to have disappeared from the world. No matter Three Kingdoms of the Lost Ocean, Thornland, Dragon-Kissed Land, Camus Union, the Great Desert, even after I searched through all these places with mercenaries, I never found his tracks.

"I have tried all methods, and from all the information I obtained of Moriah, I have tried my best to figure out his thoughts, behavior, and goals," Dean said with deep hatred, "Over countless days and nights, I lurked in a place full of spies from the Secret Intelligence Department and Constellation forces, carefully hiding and wrecking my brain to search for Moriah.

"But nothing."

Dean clenched his teeth.

"No clues.

"I nearly fell into despair."

Thales's breathing shivered.

With the Sin of Hell's River, the prince forced himself to calm down and reconsider his current situation.

"So." Thales frowned, "So you decided to…"

Dean looked at the bewildered Thales and smiled, as if he enjoyed the pleasure derived from this moment.

"Therefore, when I was forced into a corner, I turned myself into him and became Moriah."

The mercenary gritted his teeth.

"I imitated his appearance, copied his manner of speech, learn his mannerisms, even his thoughts, and his character. A prince? Northlander? Learning the orc's language? The Star Killer's student? Mercenary? Like lower ranked whores?"

He spoke faster with each passing moment, and there was deep resentment and indignation in his words.

"His wishes became my wishes, his behavior became my behavior. I went where he was most likely to go, I did what he was most likely to do, and looked forward to finding something with this suspicious identity of mine as 'Dean', or draw out those who are interested in him, and see what clues I can be obtained from them, even lure out Moriah himself."

Dean's animated voice suddenly came to a halt, and his expression became hard to decipher, but it was clear that he felt pained. 

"Yet, I still failed.

"No," said the suspicious mercenary soldier with a hateful tone, "Except for a few people who I suspected were Northlander spies, I still found nothing.

"In five years, I was like a headless fly, a blind cheetah, a stiff desert snake. I searched in vain through all the possible places where Moriah might appear. I was filled with pain and hopelessness.

"One more day without good news, one more day without his trail, one more day of not completing the task, and it would mean I would be trapped here for another day. I can't go back, I can't get away, I can't escape…"

He stared at Thales, "I've been here for five years.

"Do you understand?"

Thales slowly calmed down.

'So, everything is clear now. This person before me is…'

Dean sneered and said, "I have had enough. This kind of never-ending, fruitless pursuit. I have wasted all my years and talents in the desert and among fights."

His gaze changed.

"At this time, you appeared."

Dean stared at Thales with a crazed look, and the muscles on his face contorted.

"My savior."

Thales looked at him in shock, but he had his right hand move to his waist quietly.

But the ruthless mercenary noticed this.

He moved the knife in his hand gently.

Thales had to look up to avoid the blade from cutting into his carotid artery. At the same time, he sighed and dropped his right hand.

"So, you saw me as a target as early as we met." The prince was annoyed.

Dean did not care about Thales' little tricks. He just shook his head coldly. "At first, I'm not sure who you were. But after we first met Constellation's army, you did not show your identity, not in the beginning, and not even at the end. Even after coming to Blade Fangs Camp, you didn't show a trace of seeking assistance from the army. This made me became skeptical that maybe you were not who I think you were.

"I had to suppress and hold my urge to take action again and again… my test on you must be executed at perfect timing, so I lurked here, isolated and helpless. The slight carelessness would cause me to be doomed for eternity, and I will be overwhelmed by the Secret Intelligence Department and Constellation's army, who will come here once they receive wind of this news.

"Until tonight."

The house was still quiet, but the atmosphere here was completely different.

The aloof man suppressed Thales with all his might, turning the first night the mercenaries returned home into a night filled with conspiracies and dangerous conflicts.

"You are a spy, a special agent, or something else," Thales said indignantly, "You did not come for me."

Dean raised his eyebrows.

"No." He shook his head, quite satisfied.

"O fleeing Thales, you were a pleasant surprise. You may not be my first goal, not my target as I lurked in this place, but there is no doubt in my mind that you are a ticket for me to get out of this deep bottomless swamp… You are a certificate that will grant me special permission to return home."

Thales closed his eyes and exhaled in pain.

"Haha, it seems that King Chapman and all of you know of Moriah's survival. She won't be satisfied," Dean said, "But at least, I caught you. I can finally get out of here."

Thales was struck by a thought.

'Wait a minute.'

He opened his eyes, and with the knife against his neck, he said laboriously, "She?"

Thales asked in surprise, "You said, 'she'?"

"Yes, dear Prince Thales."

Dean nodded slightly, and a cold sneer appeared on his face.

He bent his upper body slightly and gave him a bow, but it was not exactly according to standard.

"The 'Secret Room' said hello to you."

Thales did not answer. He suppressed all his sighs.

The man and the teenager were silent for a while.

After a long time, Thales exhaled.

"What are you going to do? Knock me out and take me back?

"Where do you want to go? Don't forget that this is Blade Fangs Camp. You take me and head to the west, then to the north, into the desert filled with soldiers from Constellation? Or are you going to go east, then head south, and simply enter deep into Constellation?"

Dean shook his head.

"The situation here is really bad for me, but there is always a way."

Thales snorted.

"So not only are you not Moriah, but you are a spy sent to search for Moriah."

He frowned slightly.

"But… dear Dean. Do you really think that I will be stupid enough to take the risk, to come here alone in the dead of the night, risking my safety to confront you?"

Dean's smile froze.

"Have you thought about it carefully?"

Thales whispered, "How did we meet?"

Dean was momentarily startled.

But at this moment, something unexpected happened, and it broke the two people out of their stalemate.

*Clack.*

A gently sound appeared. 

The light from the hall shone into the dim room. The two people on the bed could be clearly seen under the light.

Thales and Dean turned their gazes together.

Right before their eyes was the drunk novice mercenary Quick Rope. He carried an oil lamp in one hand and stood at the door in confusion. His other hand remained lifted in the air, still in the posture of pushing the door.

The two people in the room were shocked.

Quick Rope yawned loudly with a sleepy look.

"I'm sorry, Dean. I didn't want to wake you up, I wanted to poop so I came here to get something to wipe my butt…" Quick Rope muttered, "There must be some drugs in those bottles of wine. It's going to kill me…"

A second later, he saw Thales suppressed on the bed by Dean, and he was instantly stunned.

His jaw dropped, and his mouth hung so wide that he could fit an egg in it.

Under their bewildered looks, Quick Rope quickly covered his eyes.

He stuttered and said in shock. "Don't worry, I didn't see anything… I mean, you can continue. I swear I will not say anything to Louisa…"

Quick Rope shut his eyes tightly and stepped into the room cautiously, as if he was afraid of disturbing something.

He touched a broken closet by the bed, "So where is the thing…"

The two people caught in the tense stalemate on the bed finally reacted to the situation.

They fought over each other to speak.

"Quick Rope, things are not as you see…" Dean continued pinning his enemy down and frowned. "Wya, this guy is very suspicious, I suspect he might be…"

"No, Quick Rope. I'm Prince Thales, he's a Northland spy!" Thales, who was crushed under Dean, said with great difficulty, "Hurry up and head to…"

Dean pushed down harder with the knife and cut off Thales' words.

Quick Rope covered his eyes and finally touched the closet beside him after much fumbling about.

"Wow, role playing? Interrogating the prince, huh?"

The novice mercenary smiled awkwardly, "You guys… sure… have a lot of tricks..."

At that moment, a drastic change happened!