Not far from the main road in the aristocratic quarter of the capital sits a magnificent mansion, with a blue-gray wall that separates the world from the outside, and the central gate is made of a dozen heavy cast-iron columns, and in the middle of the gate is a family crest of exquisite workmanship.

Walk along the wide promenade to a landscape of fountains that have been around for years, and beyond that, a three-storey building comes into view.

Blocks of white stone have been quarried from the Ösk Mountains and carefully polished by craftsmen to form the main color of the building. Anyone who sees this building for the first time will be shocked by its grace, which has lasted for hundreds of years, not only does not make it dilapidated and old, but gives it a heavier flavor of time.

It is inconceivable to own such a mansion in the precious city of Oaks, and its current owner has indeed proved what it takes to have it - the second son of His Majesty King Mahes, Duke Donis Konderbach.

The sunny afternoon was the most comfortable time in the study on the second floor of the mansion, when Donis was sitting in a chair reading a text from Sardinia.

He was a burly man, with a well-cut dark cotton suit wrapped around his muscular muscles and an oak emblem pinned to the corner of his collar that symbolized royalty. His Majesty's blue eyes were embedded in the angular face, but somewhat aggressive, and beneath the high bridge of the nose was a short beard.

Even as you sit there, you can feel the explosive power of his muscular physique.

Not far to Donis' right sat another man, leaning back against the floor-to-ceiling window, an old but powerful palm sticking out of the shadow of the back of the chair, tapping on the armrest.

There's an unknown conversation going on here.

"The Sardinia War was over, and Sirian was wounded by the rebel leader, who seemed to be seriously wounded, and declined all visits. The current command of the corps was entrusted to Tandra, and it was said that the next step was to recuperate the whole army in the city of Sardinia. Donis shook the words in his hand, his tone full of disdain, "Our Lord Duke has made a good move, how good it would be for those wasteful rebels to hold out for a few more days, or let Sirian die by the sword of that leader?"

The rhythmic percussion stopped. "Yesterday morning Sirian left the Sardinia barracks with his guards, and should have crossed the Tallinn crossing by now. The news I just received has been arranged by Riverbend Town. A deep voice said unhurriedly.

"I don't know what Cyrian's expression would have been if he knew he was running to the end of his life as fast as he could. Donis said playfully, his eyes glittering with cold resentment.

If he had the chance, he would have preferred to kill Sirian with his own hands, the Duke of Junhe, who had always been at odds with him, but loyal to his wasteful brother.

For decades, Donis accompanied his father, His Majesty King Maheth, in his battles in the north and south, confronting the Rokokans of the eastern world in the Black Rock Duolun Pass, negotiating with the arrogant elves in the forests at the beginning of the month, and even leading troops deep into the Death Mist Swamp to hunt down the fels of the kingdom who had defected. And the elder brother in his eyes will always only deal with the so-called government affairs in the rear.

Even if he worked so hard, he could only be a general who led the army to fight in the eyes of his father, and the second in line to the heir of the kingdom in the eyes of the courtiers. In this way, the seeds of unwillingness gave birth to anger under the watering of the years, and the fruits of anger were crushed into resentment on the grinding plate of **.

He still remembered that thunderstormy night, roaring and asking his father with tears on his face. "Why can't I be king...... What am I inferior to my brother......" and his father said silently, "Isn't it good to live simply......?

He wiped away his tears and walked out of the palace silently, but a voice was carved into his heart. "The throne is mine, I am the true king of Orem! no one can stop me, not even the gods of heaven!"

As the old king grew old day by day, and when the trumpets of war sounded in the distance of the capital, he finally waited for the long-awaited opportunity - the news of the illness of his father, His Majesty King Mahes, came from the palace. And so, a crazy plan was born.

Many broken, yellowed images tugged at Donis's memories, and all that remained in the silent study was a speck of light shining on the ground through the glass window, and the green trees in front of the window swayed gently, dotting the star-shattering shadows in the specks of light.

I don't know how long it took, but there was a sigh of sorrow, and the owner of the voice seemed to be a little tired. "Trust me, Donis. Sirian's prestige in the army will only cause some trouble for our plans, and even if he doesn't die, we have the power to put you on the throne with blood. Then he paused, "The real threat is your father, His Majesty the King of the Oak Palace!"

"Damn it, don't you have even the slightest bit of reliable information?" Donis growled with some irritation.

"The Lord God is above, and I have never admired anyone in my life, except for His Majesty the King. If there are no secrets in the kingdom of Orem, then the high Oak Palace is a forbidden area for all rumors, where no conspiracy can escape his deep eyes. Although he didn't want to admit it, there was certainty in that voice.

"Don't mention him to me. Donis stood up and walked slowly to the floor-to-ceiling windows.

Through the window, he saw the beautiful fountain and remembered the first time he stepped into the mansion many years ago. A young man with blond hair ran around the garden with joy like a child, searching every house for unknown discoveries, just because His Majesty had given it as a gift to him as an adult.

Donis remembers how happy he was that day, and even thought he was the child his father liked for himself.

"Do not doubt the wisdom of His Majesty the King, much less his determination to defend this kingdom. Even if it is you, as long as you stand in the way of the inheritance of royal power, he will not hesitate to crush you. ”

Donis slowly closed his eyes, and the warmth that had just risen in those blue eyes turned into more and more bitter coldness when he opened them again. "Can we only wait here in silence?......

The voice chuckled. "Waiting is often the best option, and no one can fight the inevitability of aging in life. "Do you know what's the most embarrassing thing about a trap?" ”

Donis looked back at the back of his chair but didn't speak.

"When the hungry hunter is dying and has no strength to retract the rope, the prey lurking next to him can not only eat the bait in the trap, but also follow the rope to find the dying hunter. The voice paused, "Who do you say is the prey, who is the hunter?"

"What if the hunter's dying is merely an illusion of confusing his prey?" Donis's voice was a little slurred, as if talking to himself.

The old palm slammed into the armrest of the chair, and the force of all his strength brought out the exposed green tendons on the joints. Then, an emaciated old man stood up from the shadow of the back of his chair. The gray hair is combed against the scalp and combed to the back of the head, and there is no trace of the vicissitudes of old age on the flat and resolute shoulders.

The old man just stood there, one hand behind his back. He didn't turn around, but he released the ancient majesty that flowed through his veins. "On the day of the showdown, whether the hunter is really dying or not, he will die. Otherwise, our heads will just hang on wooden thorns and dry slowly. With that, the old man walked out of the study.

Donis looked silently into the distance, his inexplicable gaze slightly distracted......

The carriage drove smoothly on the main road of Oak City, and the old man looked out the window with a frown, as if thinking about something. Opposite him sat a middle-aged man who looked a little like the old man, but the difference was that the middle-aged man had a hint of arrogance on his face.

"Father, is there anything that makes you unhappy about your conversation with Donis?" the middle-aged man leaned back on a soft velvet cushion and sipped a nightingale from the West. Truth be told, this irascible fiery red spirit is not at all as romantic as its name, but that doesn't stop it from being one of the most popular drinks among the Orem aristocracy.

"Warmth is always the most common trait of the weak. The old man rubbed his temples.

The middle-aged man stretched his waist, and the long journey that had just ended made him a little tired. "For the sake of the Lord God, is he still delusional that there is room for maneuver in this matter?"

"He has no choice but to die alone in that gorgeous cage, or with the help of our strength, climb to the throne that belongs to his brother!"

"Tomorrow, tomorrow it is estimated that the news of the assassination of the Duke of Junhe will come. The middle-aged man said with a smile, as if describing something completely unrelated to himself, "The Lord God is above, and I still have some expectations." The biggest news since the reign of the King of Orem, Sirian died a well-deserved death. ”

"Stupid loyalty. The old man's face was full of contempt.

"I hope that Lord Donis will not forget his promise. The middle-aged man looked at his father and said softly.

"How dare he! I can make him king, and I can make others kick him off the throne!" the old man's voice suddenly became excited, "I will personally wash away the shame engraved on the head of the family for more than two hundred years in Silver Oak City! Let everyone remember that no one can cut off our majesty and treat it as a shining jewel in their own crown! No one!"

The middle-aged man's eyes narrowed slightly, listening to the old man's roar, and then drank the liquor in his hand. The fiery red, blood-like juice hung on his lips. He licked the corners of his mouth unsatisfied, and whispered in his heart: "Come on, come quickly." That is the moment when the curtain opens and the hole cards are revealed. ”