Tails stared incredulously at Falkenhause's distant back, listening to the sound of his crutches slowly dimming until it was imperceptible.

After a while, the prince breathed a sigh of relief.

"Yodel, do you know that guy?"

Tails grabbed the Ancient Imperial Sword that Cyril had left behind, digesting the surprise he had just had.

A faint word came from the air behind him:

"Not familiar. ”

"Unfamiliar?" Tails frowned.

The boy felt the weight of the "Warning Person" and slowly pulled away from its cold-shining blade.

It has an extremely long hilt, and can be held with both hands in front and back as a great sword or even a spearman.

It's slightly lighter than Ricky's "Eternal Truth," but it's just as perfectly balanced in terms of gravity.

It's a rare good sword.

But why......

Just to show the outside world that the Duke of the Western Wilderness gave the prince a sword?

"Damn Falkenhause. ”

Tails sighed, looking at the black gem in the center of the sword grid that looked much more low-key than Eternal Truth.

"Do you believe what he says?"

Tails pulled the long-handled sword in his hand, slowly becoming familiar with the new weapon.

The masked guard's voice sounded faintly:

"What about you?"

The Alerter was in the air.

Tails took a deep breath and slowly retracted his sword.

Falkenhaus.

"I always thought he was just an elitist freak. ”

Tails looked out the window at Bladetooth's camp, his eyes glazed over.

"Results ......"

Tails was distracted:

"It's a boss. ”

There was a moment of silence in the room.

"I don't understand. ”

Tails put the sword on the table, shook his head, and came back to his senses:

"Nothing, it's all colloquialisms I learned from Exeter. ”

But this time, Yodel came back quickly:

There is no such saying in the Northland. ”

Tails was stunned, but he reacted extremely quickly:

"Ah, you didn't follow me to the Northlands......"

But the boy suddenly remembered something.

Wait a minute.

Yodel.

Northland.

Tails turned around and looked behind him.

"Yodel, when I was in the north. ”

Tails was a little stumped:

"I've met Kassan, the Red Witch. ”

There was no answer, and Tails could only hear the wind outside the window.

This particularly disturbed him.

"She said she was yours...... And she's ...... with the Black Prophet"

Tails looked up at the empty, unleashed void.

"Is it true?"

Still no answer.

Tails exhaled softly.

"Yodel?"

The room was still quiet.

Tails hung his head in disappointment, understanding the other party's "silent resistance".

"Okay, that's it, just keep ignoring me. ”

Tails slouched back in his chair and brought the plate back to him.

"Cold violence. ”

He muttered.

But this time, the masked guard's voice resounded with a hint of unnatural trill.

"My background is secret, and it's not honorable. ”

"I don't want to bother you. ”

Tails held his hand to the grilled fish and stopped in mid-air.

It's not honorable.

bothers you.

Tails put down the food in his hand and sighed.

Yes.

But......

Why not?

Tails thought of this, and his lips curled.

The next second, Tails turned around and looked solemnly into the void.

"No, yodel. ”

He said seriously:

"To me, you are never dishonored. ”

The air was as quiet as ever.

Tails didn't wait for a response, but he wasn't discouraged.

"And. ”

The prince smiled:

"You've never bothered me. ”

There was still an embarrassing silence.

But Tails didn't dwell on it anymore, just laughed at himself, turned around, and continued to deal with his own food.

But right now.

"Thank you. ”

A very light, very light hoarse voice wafted through the air.

It's like squeezing out of nowhere, thanks to Tails's senses that have been tempered by the sins of the Prison River for many years, so it won't slip through.

Tailston paused, but heard no more.

"That's it?"

The boy didn't look back, just shrugged his shoulders.

As he expected, there was no sound behind him.

Tails sighed regretfully.

Even if......

One more word wow?

Tails didn't worry about it anymore, he got rid of the mustard in his heart and focused on the food in front of him.

But as if the indifferent gods did not like to see him eat in peace, Tails only eliminated a few pieces of meat and a few mouthfuls of cold porridge, and hurried and restless footsteps rang out from the stairs below the room.

Knock, knock, knock, knock

Heavier than Falkenhause's footsteps.

Tails subconsciously grasped the warning on the side of the table, and heard the door slam open again.

A clear and good-sounding, but unceremonious voice suddenly sounded:

"Did you see him?"

He.

It's him again.

Tails closed his eyes in agony, and then opened them again.

The prince rubbed his face into a smile, and then turned back in his chair:

"Who?"

Sure enough, with undisguised footsteps, Baron Bladetooth, His Excellency Roman Williams walked into the room of His Royal Highness the Prince without any scruples or even aggressively, leaving his subordinates Frank and Snake Hand standing by the door, including a dozen people behind the two, trembling, and not daring to take a breath.

"Who else?"

Even if he is dusty, he still has glowing Roman eyes breathing fire, and he can see that he is in a very bad mood.

As he surveyed the room with the gaze of a searching assassin, he said angrily:

"That ugly old sour thing, Falkenhause, he came to you, what did he tell you?"

Ugly old stuff with a sour smell.

Tails muttered the title in his heart.

If the Duke of the Western Wilderness and the Baron of the Blade Tooth have at least one thing in common, it must be their perception of each other.

At least they describe each other appropriately.

Tails coughed and put down the weapon in his hand:

"Actually, I didn't ...... anything with him"

But before Tails could finish speaking, the legendary wings that tore off his turban strode forward with a full sense of oppression, and suddenly stretched out his hand!

"Smack!"

The prince was stunned.

I saw Roman full of the aura of a man who was about to freeze to death, and tightly grasped Tails's left wrist.

Under Tails' surprised gaze, Legendary Wings coldly grasped the hilt of his sword and pulled the blade of the "Warning" out of Tails's left hand before letting him go.

Tails looked at the empty scabbard and furrowed his eyebrows.

This......

Roman shook the sword back and forth with a murderous expression, and finally fixed his gaze on the rough engraving at the bottom of the hilt.

“f。 ”

Roman stared at the marker and looked up coldly:

"F, Falkenhauz's 'F'. ”

Tails' head suddenly grew bigger, and he shook the empty scabbard in his hand:

"Uh, yes, but this"

Roman snorted coldly, not giving him a chance to speak.

"What a sword. ”

Listening only to the Wings of Legend, with a deep irony that even Nicolai could hear, he said:

"Good prince. ”

"I let you live here, but it's convenient for you to give and accept bribes behind my back, right?"

Asking for bribes and taking bribes?

Tails was stunned.

He looked at the warning man in Roman's hand, and suddenly had a sense of injustice:

"Me"

But the next moment, Roman's arm moved, and the sword light stabbed at him!

Everyone was taken aback!

Tails only had time to raise his scabbard and stand in front of him.

"Huh"

There was a grinding of leather against metal, and when Tails came back to his senses, he was surprised to find that the Warner had been perfectly inserted into the scabbard in his hand.

Tight, precise.

This...... How did he do it?

Behind Roman, Frank and Snake Hand were already pale, and they both stepped into the room with half a foot, their arms stretched forward, and they still maintained the expressions of "don't be an adult" or "that's a prince".

"If you like their gifts so much, Bright Star ......"

Roman lowered his arm, forced back the grievances of his subordinates with his eyes, and then looked coldly at the frightened Tails.

"Then you can get out of here tomorrow with those lords. ”

"Get out of my turf. ”

Legendary Wings said fiercely, and quickly turned to leave.

Tails looked at the warden in his hand, but he hadn't come back to his senses:

"But"

Roman's footsteps paused beside the doorframe.

"As for you, Nameless. ”

The Wings of Legend does not look back:

"You know, when you thought you were perfectly hidden there, that plank was clearly dented?"

Tails was taken aback and looked at the floor of the room.

But if he hadn't entered the hellish senses, he wouldn't have seen anything wrong with such a flat floor.

The "freak" captain at the door, the snake hand, also had the same expression.

"And you, freaks. ”

Wings of Legend suddenly turned his head, and the snake hand and the "freaks" behind him visibly trembled in unison.

"I don't care how many soldiers they bring, how noble their status is, how capable of fighting their subordinates are, and I don't care how weird this broken tower is, how scared you are, and how tired your shifts are. ”

Tails couldn't see Roman's expression, but he could feel the chill in that tone:

"Next time, you're going to let outsiders intrude on our territory with impunity. ”

"Go back to the prison of bones. ”

The snake hand, who still wanted to curry favor or defend something, was so frightened that he immediately silenced himself and stood upright.

In the next second, with the rumbling footsteps, the Wings of Legend went downstairs with Frank with a "hello for your own" expression on his face, leaving the snake hand and the others to close the door with a hundred times more respect and caution.

The footsteps of Roman and his guards rolled away.

Tails in the room was still holding his sword, looking ignorant.

Just......

What happened?

In the old ghost prince tower, Roman Williams, who was descending the stairs one by one, did not say a word, and the guards behind him did not dare to come out.

Everyone knows that Wings of Legend is the worst time to mess with right now.

"Frank. ”

Wings of Legend suddenly spoke.

Frank behind him immediately echoed respectfully.

Just listen to Roman said coldly:

"Go tell the noisy nobles every noble soldier we caught in the camp yesterday...... If you don't pay enough compensation, you won't want to get out of prison. ”

Frank, who was just about to nod, was stunned, and when he reacted, he was embarrassed and said:

"But some of them are the heirs of great noble families, and their identities are sensitive ......"

But Roman's cold snort forced him back from what he said next.

"Yes, those people. ”

Wings of Legend turned around a corner of the staircase and said coldly:

"Twenty times more. ”

Frank was another stagnant.

After a few seconds, Frank sighed:

"Well, they're going to hate us even more. ”

Roman's footsteps paused.

The dozen or so people behind the baron stopped in unison, as if they had rehearsed thousands of times, and their movements were neat and unstaggered.

"Good. ”

Legendary Wings said coldly:

"And the reason why we're here ......"

Speaking of this, Roman suddenly raised his head and looked up the stairs above his head, his gaze fixed on the darkness of the topmost floor:

"It's because they hate us. ”

Frank froze.

But his commander did not speak again, but simply walked out of the tower.

In the room on the top floor, Tails looked suspiciously at the door, and then looked at the long sword in his hand in embarrassment.

He had a sudden premonition that this was probably one of Falkenhaus's purposes.

Let everyone see that the prince accepted the gift of the Falkenhauser family.

But what he said to himself......

[Hold on to it, hold on to your sword.] 】

[Don't lose it.] 】

After a while, Tails could only sigh after all.

That damn, sour ugly old thing.

Has he always been like this?

What did he say to Prince back then?

The thought of the name, and the fact that it was here that Heyman died, made Tails lose his appetite.

and the Shadow Shield.

What kind of connection do they have?

As for the one that has been mentioned by countless people...... Rise?

Who is he?

Tails' expression froze.

He remembered something.

The prince stood up, walked briskly to his luggage, and rummaged through it.

After a few seconds, he finally pulled out the precious roll of stationery.

But the moment he opened it, Tails paused.

"Yodel," Tails took a deep breath, "what do you know about my fourth uncle, Bright Star?"

A few seconds later, the air came with the usual faint answer:

"Not familiar. ”

Very good.

Tails closed his eyes slightly.

"I guess so. ”

The prince smiled, and then opened his eyes.

The next moment, Tails cautiously, but without hesitation, unfolded the piece of letter that meant something to him.

To my angry kittens:

You didn't write to me.

Eight months and twenty-one days ago, after that precious but unhappy meeting.

You may not get it.

You may not understand how I am writing this letter.

As the end of that quarrel.

That's right, cat, you've always been sharp and empathetic, with precise instincts and a sharp point.

But my most precious friend and lover, you may not understand what you mean to me.

You turn away, free, proud, and sassy.

But they took everything from me.

In the past eight months, even the most urgent official duties have become boring and tedious, the most exciting life has become boring, the daily friends have become mediocre, and even the imported wine of the Duchy of Thra and the brilliant manuscripts of Heb have become boring.

You know, my dear cat, from swaddling to adult, from prince to viscount.

Nobody, nobody, nobody has ever treated me like that.

That's how Bright Star is treated.

Not my father, not my mother, not Midil, not Horace, not Maester Serom and Mama Aarun, not even my grandmother.

Rustic, innocent, kind, sincere, optimistic, they took a lot of things from me.

But they never took everything.

All.

They never mercilessly and brutally dragged me out of the noble palace and under the magnificent mask into the muddy abyss, leaving me to tear my heart and lungs in agony under the pouring rain and cold moonlight, just to show the scarred heart in my breast.

Because I don't allow it.

may not be known for his ability to fight.

But believe me, in his heart, he is a warrior who has never surrendered to anyone.

No one can make him bow down and admit defeat in compromise.

No one.

Except for you, cat.

You.

Only you.

The emptiness and pain of losing you have tormented me, abused me, torn me apart, and even triumphed over my pride and dignity, my defence and ego, all my pride and self-esteem before them.

I was as hysterical as a fly dog and a slutty man in the market, lost my soul, unable to sleep, unable to eat, and hell with my despised theatrical scene.

You know, cat, if I want to admit it, it's better to kill me.

But none of that matters.

Before I met you, I was full of spirit and self-love.

After separating from you, I am worthless and feel sorry for myself.

But that doesn't matter anymore.

If, in the midst of haughty indifference, one of us must bow his head first, then I want you to know, cat.

In my days without you, I was miserable and tormented.

I can't stop thinking about your heart, I can't stop writing to you, I can't take away your reflection in the mirror.

The only thing I have the right to dominate is the childish impulse to give up completely and fall completely to you, regardless of decency and dignity, regardless of pride and tradition.

Cat, for eight months, I've often wondered:

What brings about our disagreements and discord?

Is it a sensitive identity to each other?

Is it an unblessed future?

Is it a very different life?

Is it a character that is difficult to run into?

Was it a world of experience?

But just as we face every time we argue about responsibility and freedom, between life and love, unity and independence, between reality and dreams, about who has higher rhetorical achievements between Cahill and Andy Bosserka.

There is no answer.

It was only recently, in the midst of turmoil and the collapse of the kingdom, that I suddenly understood.

I understood what is most important to me and to us in a day when there is no tomorrow.

Just now, the night bugle of Camp Bladetooth sounded.

But what flashed in my mind was our first meeting.

That night you pointed your sword at me, and with a contemptuous smile that I will never forget, whispered:

This kitten can pull out your heart.

You did it.

Cats.

If you don't believe me, my cruel and lovely friend, then bow your head gently.

Now, do you see that?

Mine is a weak, bloody, but undisguised sincerity.

It's lying quietly in the palm of your hand.

Lying in the fate it was destined to fall into.

Willing.

At this moment, the soldiers and civilians under the watchtower were bustling, and I suddenly understood the senseless insistence of little Kessel in my opinion.

He loved her, madly in love with the little vigilante of humble origin and disrepute.

He loved her whole person more than anything else in the world.

Then he can naturally give up everything for her, risk the disapproval of the world, give up a decent marriage promise, give up the surname of the bright star, give up the status of the prince, give up the property of the royal family, give up the inheritance to the throne, and give up ...... Father's stern love.

In contrast, my brother was a coward.

It's me, cat.

It's always been me.

I'm dragging you down.

It is my senseless concerns and dignity that have been holding you back and hindering our future.

Cat, you have never been free and unfettered, proud, elegant, brave and strong, and will do whatever it takes to achieve your goals.

As the so-called son of the king, after the bright star, I am dull, burdened, sensitive and fragile, and worried.

Status, identity, age, gap, outside people's words, royal decency, princely responsibilities.

Excuses, everything is excuses.

It is an excuse for me to enjoy the pleasure of being with you, to ask for your understanding and understanding, but not to make sacrifices.

You're right, cat.

Maybe the star who cuts open his chest, cuts open his skull, tears his skin, and really shows it in the sun is just a coward who has no name, no responsibility, and does not dare to face his true self.

Now, the information about the desert emergency, the abnormal gathering of orcs and bones, is on my desk.

But I can't help but miss the time we've spent together all these years.

I miss your light steps, your moving singing voice, your timeless poetry, your innocent smile, beautiful lips and clear eyes.

And your posture of stepping on the dew in the forest and dancing under the moon.

I can speak eloquently in the face of the most dangerous enemies, speak with reason and soberness in the presence of the most cunning profiteers, and act with poise in the most critical situations.

But I can't, I can't be tough in the letter I wrote for you, and at this moment, even the tip of my pen is trembling, and my handwriting is ugly like an orc painting.

But I see, cat.

You have given me the most precious opportunity to discover the most authentic me.

My world is only meaningful if it is related to you.

But the thought that I would lose you to a pointless, perhaps not, pointless quarrel makes my heart ache like a knife.

You are like a rain from heaven, washing away all my filth, cleansing me of my disguise, watering all my madness.

What would I be without you?

No.

I can't imagine it anymore.

So I get it, cat.

I love you.

There are no conditions. No matter the cost. Be duty-bound not to turn back.

Otherwise, there is no other.

Without it.

Looking at the handwriting that gradually became a little messy, but still maintained a different beauty, Tails, who was silently reading the letter, couldn't help but notice that between these lines, the ink had melted a little, as if it had been stained......

Tears.

Tails was distracted for a few seconds before continuing to read.

But.

Maybe you don't understand, but at the risk of angering you again, my cat.

Outside of you and me, in this filthy world, I have one more thing to do.

The last piece.

I know that in our coexistence with each other, I should not pollute your ears and eyes with my own annoying mundane things, and I know that you are tired of my work for boring and useless government affairs, and I know that you have always been tired of my worries and worries.

I'm sorry.

But since you're gone, I have no one to talk to.

I can't tell you how hard it is right now.

Blood kinship, family, kingdom, politics, history, the future, all of them are intertwined, and they cannot be extricated or struggled.

I'm sorry, cat, I love you.

But I can't just walk away, in their most desperate moments.

I want to beg you to forgive me, my cat, my love, the blood of my heart, my natural sin, the source of my madness.

Forgive me.

Forgive me for stepping into the bottomless maelstrom and ignoring even the dawn of our future.

But as you said, you don't love me, you don't love my flesh, you don't love my poetry, you don't love my status.

It's about loving that little bit of light in the depths of my soul.

Now, all of a sudden, that light flickered.

It tells me what to do.

When we are done, my cat, no matter how heavy the shackles of cruel reality may be on us, no matter how many obstacles our identities will leave us, no matter how much our father will answer our love, no matter how fate will give us blessings or curses on our union.

It doesn't matter anymore.

Anyway, in the history of the family, we have never been the only one who has arrogantly offended the gods, and the gods have never been tolerant of us.

I love you, cat.

Forever.

Wait for me.

Waiting for me to settle everything in this suffocating maelstrom and pay off my debts.

Wait for me.

Those who love you hope are also the ones you love

Hn Bright Star

On the evening of the 19th of the month, at the Blade Tooth Camp

[Fate is like a poem, how do you know the rhyme?]

Again: I will let Roman deliver this letter, since the tragic death of Tylenol, whom you are acquainted, he has been my most reliable messenger, and knows that the route to the Half Tower is a sad temper, and sometimes a little skinny.

"Bookmark for easy reading"