Chapter 509 (1/2)

Chapter 509: To Become a King

Translator: TransN Editor: TransN

The dungeon of the palace was a childhood nightmare for Prince Roland. The feeling naturally came back to him as he was walking down the stone steps.

He started to search his memories and soon found the reason for this fear.

One day, Timothy invited Gerald, Garcia and little Roland to explore the basement of the basement under the palace hall together. The 12-year-old Roland had been so excited to finally get the chance to join their inner circle but had never expected what would happen next. Timothy had stolen the keys from the guards, locked Ronald into a jail cell and left with the other two kids while laughing.

Little Roland was left alone in the dark room. He had thought of the shrilling cries he occasionally heard throughout the hall. A guard had once told him that the cries were from wailing ghosts in the underground world beneath the palace. His teeth chattered with fright but he had not dared to cry out loud since he had been afraid of attracting the ghosts to him. At last, he huddled up in a corner, held his knees and pressed his face against them, sobbing uncontrollably. When Timothy, Gerald and Garcia returned to check how terrible he was, his face had been covered with his snot.

After that, Prince Roland had been too frightened to step back into the basement of the palace.

Roland now understood that the wails and shrills did not come from ghosts, but from the prisoners being questioned and tortured in the basement. The jail could not hold many prisoners which explained why little Roland had only been able to hear them every now and then.

Roland met Timothy Wimbledon in a small cell on the bottom floor of the basement. Compared with the jails in the Outer and Inner City, the place was pretty good. At least, it was dry and clean, without rats, cockroaches or stinky smells. This was the exact cell where the little Roland had been locked into and cried for an entire night.

Ironically, now Timothy swapped positions with Ronald.

Hearing unexpected noises, Timothy, who sat silently against the wall, opened his eyes and saw Roland.

This brother, that Prince Roland had feared the most in the past, looked almost the same as before. Like all the other descendants of the Wimbledon Family, he was gray-eyed and gray-haired. He resembled his father in appearance in that he wore short curly hair and had his father’s nose and handsome face. However, his long, narrow eyes made his face a little ghastly, especially in the flickering torchlight.

Prince Roland had never dared to look into his brother’s eyes before, but now, Timothy was just a helpless and defenseless stranger.

They looked at each other for a while during which nothing could be heard except the burning sounds of torches. Finally, Timothy was unable to veil his gaunt face any longer and gave up trying to overwhelm Roland with an aggressive attitude, for he found that it was useless now. The look in Timothy’s eyes changed, and somehow he seemed to be terrified.

“Who the hell are you?” Timothy broke the silence.

His dry, emotional voice reverberated in the basement, from which Roland could easily tell that his brother was scared. Compared with Tilly, Timothy had had more interactions with Prince Roland and contributed a lot to his previous annoying and fickle behaviors. He felt that it was natural for Timothy, who had known Prince Roland quite well in the past, to spot something different in Ronald now and ask that question.

“I’m Roland Wimbledon,” Ronald said as he had squatted down until his face was level with Timothy’s and looked into his eyes, “You can’t remember me?”

“No, you’re not him,” Timothy said in a trembling voice, “He could never look at me like this. He dared not look directly into my eyes.” He heavily panted and continued, “I know… You’re the real demon! You’re not lured by demons. You’re evil incarnate, wanting to steal my kingdom!”