Chapter 748 - 511: Crime and Punishment (Part Three)
The King of the Northern Kingdom was a middle-aged man with a stern face, who appeared to be older than His Majesty Goethe of Sydney.
In terms of legends, he did not seem to be one, which was quite fatal, I fear his son will be dead of old age, and that Goethe kid might still be bouncing around for a while.
But this was not something for Malin to worry about, being a guest, Malin had met quite a few nobles of the North under the guidance of this man over fifty.
The Northerners were visibly stronger than those from the South, perhaps it was as they said, the result of humans intermarrying with Frost Giants, or maybe it was due to genetic manipulation from the past, in any case, when Malin saw these big fellows, he always had an air of frustration in his heart that he couldn’t vent—how can each and every one of you be so tall? He really wanted to break something.
Maybe it was the influence of bloodlines, Malin laughed very sincerely while trying hard to suppress the anger in his heart, until the old man began to introduce his son: "This is my son, Soren Manheim."
Looking at this somewhat shy boy, Malin smiled and extended his hand—for young children, Malin never had a stern face, but as for the elderly father or some other situation, that was something Malin didn’t quite understand.
"Greetings, revered God-chosen Champion, Prince of Farol, wise Malin Gaiate," the child recited Malin’s three titles like reading from a list, which made Malin feel amused but at the same time, a trace of sadness—royal children, truly have it hard, but as the saying goes, ’Heavy is the head that wears the crown.’ This future ruler ought to endure this ordeal.
After shaking hands, Malin detected an issue from the contact— the child’s body seemed somewhat frail, it wasn’t clear what the matter was, perhaps it was an innate illness inherited from the mother, but it probably wasn’t a curse, since Malin would have sensed it had it been a curse upon touching the child.
"Your child is unexpectedly young," Malin turned his head and remarked to the monarch.
"War and misfortune have let the Reaper easily snatch my other children from my grasp," the middle-aged man on the verge of old age sighed as he reached out to gently rub his child’s head: "Mr. Malin, may we have a word in private."
"Certainly," Malin nodded, to have a word in private was not for anything else, having cards to play was key.