A monster.
A monster who feeds on power.
The figure he had not seen for a long time involuntarily appeared in Thales' mind.
That figure, who held a scepter and wore a crown on his head, was called 'Father', but was dignified and unapproachable.
The prince was silent for a few seconds.
"You don't like Western Desert's current state, and you don't want to forget the Western Desert of the past, the Western Desert that only belonged to Fakenhaz?"
"So you hope that I'll 'do something'."
The prince raised his head and looked at Cyril. His tone became wary.
"You know."
"Six years ago, when I left Eternal Star City, someone told me something similar."
The Duke of Western Desert stared at Thales for a few seconds before he smiled.
"No, Your Highness."
Fakenhaz exhaled slowly and turned to face the window.
"Don't think of me as a fuddy-duddy who clings to the old traditions, or an idiot who is obsessed with the glory of the past and refuses to open his eyes to see the future — although there are plenty of such people among my peers."
Thales snorted softly.
"Then what makes you different from them?"
This time, Cyril was silent for a long time.
He remained motionless, looking down at the bustling, picturesque scene of the camp below the window.
"Why, Thales?"
Finally, the Duke of Western Desert sighed with emotion.
"How did we get to rule this land?"
The vigilant Prince of Constellation furrowed his brows.
The ruler of the Fakenhaz Family spoke slowly.
"Regardless of whether it is me ruling the Western Desert as a duke now, or you being crowned king in the future and ruling all of Constellation?"
"Enjoy everything that is above human beings?"
Cyril changed the topic too quickly, and there were hidden meanings hidden in his words. There was also a faintly discernible sharpness and harshness in his words, which made Thales, who was used to Northlanders talking about things as they were, extremely uncomfortable.
"Is it because we, as rulers, are wise and farsighted, and have unparalleled strategies?"
"Or are you like the Northlanders, who have the courage to be the first?"
The prince stood in front of the window, his gaunt figure silhouetted, rooted to the ground.
"Or is it because you are kind-hearted and care about the people?"
"Or is it the glory of our ancestors, passed down from generation to generation?"
Cyril changed the topic and revealed his favorite sarcastic tone.
"Could it really be the will of the heavens, the hope of the masses …?"
"And the stuff that runs through your veins can really — sparkle?"
As usual, the Duke did not finish his sentence. He stared at him as if he was waiting for a good show.
The teenager was silent for a few seconds.
Finally, Thales sighed deeply.
"From the beginning until now … Who taught you to speak like this, Duke Fakenhaz? Does he specialize in teaching idiots? "
What?
Cyril's smile froze.
After sighing, Thales shrugged in resignation.
"You know, I didn't realize until today how much I hate rhetorical questions."
Rhetorical question?
The Duke's expression became even more confused.
But the prince no longer listened to Cyril's words. Instead, he looked at him indifferently.
"A small hint, Duke Unwelcome."
"Whether it is a discussion or a negotiation, a sarcastic rhetorical question may seem to enhance your tone, but in fact, it will only make you look like a flirtatious and entertaining clown. Except for highlighting your self-righteousness with your tone, it is of no help in conveying effective information.
As he listened to Thales' expressionless reply, Fakenhaz's face slowly stiffened.
"If you have an answer, say it with certainty. If you do not agree with it, finish it with the word 'no', because aside from stirring up emotions, no one is interested in understanding what kind of bullsh * t you are saying with rhetorical rhetorical questions."
Once Thales finished speaking, he stabbed his dagger into the headboard of the bed.
The room was quiet for a long time.
For a period of time, only the sound of cold wind could be heard.
Cyril glared at Thales, as if he was meeting him for the first time.
The corners of the duke's lips curled up a few times. He wanted to say something, but stopped. He seemed to be at a loss.
Thales, on the other hand, crossed his arms as if nothing had happened. With an innocent expression, he tilted his head and pursed his lips as he waited for Cyril's answer.
Finally, Cyril closed his eyes and lowered his head. He let out a long sigh.
"This is why I do not like Northlanders."
"No." But Thales raised his eyebrows and continued Cyril's sentence.
"This is just why you are unwelcome."
Cyril paused again. He was momentarily speechless.
"Continue. Why are we able to rule?"
Thales exhaled when he finally felt comfortable with his words. He sat on the bed, leaned against the wall, and spread his arms in satisfaction.
"Don't let me interrupt you."
Cyril sighed softly in his heart.
'Didn't you interrupt me a long time ago?'
The duke was silent for a while before he spoke again.
"Truth be told, I do not think that we are able to rule because of these reasons, Thales. Not at all. "
Thales' heavy voice rose into the air again.
"Very good!"
Cyril froze again.
"I am very happy that we can finally start talking."
Thales raised his index finger at him with a pleased expression. "It is not difficult to speak properly, is it?
Continue. "
Cyril, who had just gathered his emotions, felt stifled again.
The duke sighed slowly. He began to realize that the teenager in front of him was no longer the illegitimate son from six years ago who clenched his fists, blushed, forced himself to pretend to be a prince, and showed off his intelligence in front of the suzerains.
He was Thales Jadestar.
The stars beyond the sky.
When he thought of this, the duke turned his body slightly. His unpleasant face reflected a cold, faint light.
"Prince Thales.
In my opinion, the thing that truly rules this land, this kingdom, and even the entire world, and makes countless people willingly obey us, is habit. "
"Habit, habit …" Thales mulled over Cyril's words, and he suddenly understood something.
After he took back the right to speak unexpectedly, he began to slowly grasp the erratic axis in Cyril's seemingly casual conversation.
However, at this moment, Cyril was holding onto his walking stick as he paced around the room, one step at a time.
"Men are used to going out to raise their families, women are used to staying at home to take care of their children, merchants are used to moving goods back and forth, farmers are used to paying taxes and serving in the military, nobles are used to governing, priests are used to chanting gods …
"Armies are used to violence, officials are used to giving orders, authors are used to delaying updates, suzerains are used to bossing people around, and kings are used to sitting high on their thrones …
"People are used to paying when they buy things, they are used to being punished when they do bad things, they are used to lowering their heads when they face death, and they are used to nodding when they face life …"
The duke spoke very quickly, just like his footsteps. It was as if he was climbing a mountain whose peak could not be seen.
Cyril seemed to be in a daze. His left hand gently brushed against the ancient wall, but his expression became serious.
This made Thales sit up straight without him realizing it.
"Habit. That is how they — every living being we rule — see the world as it looks like with their own eyes since they were born in their mothers' wombs.
"That is how the world is fixed, and it is what they repeat and practice over and over again in their limited years and lives.
"That is how they subconsciously respect, imitate, and believe in the actions and reactions of countless people after they witness them over and over again."
At that moment, the Duke of Western Desert, who had one hand pressed against the wall, suddenly raised his head.
"Thales!"
The teenager jumped in shock.
Cyril stared at him coldly.
"People submit to our rule, respect our status, and swear loyalty to our identity, not because we are great, not because we are born noble, not because we show kindness or intimidate others, not because we govern well and benefit the people, and not because your blood shines like a gift from God!
"It is because they are used to it!"
The cold wind that seeped into the room from the window made the duke's leather robe and hair flutter. It made Cyril Fakenhaz look even more bizarre and chilling.
Thales subconsciously gulped. He no longer had the time to care about the mocking tone in the duke's voice, which was instinctive.
Cyril narrowed his eyes, but the sharp gaze that shone through his eyes did not diminish in the slightest.
"Because from the first day they opened their eyes and saw the world, their ancestors did it, their parents did it, and their peers also did it. So, they are also used to doing it, and they even have to convince their next generation to do the same."
Thales slowly furrowed his eyebrows.
"And this group of people show the habits they are used to to another group of people, regardless of whether they are children, elders, relatives, neighbors, strangers, masters, servants, peers, superiors and subordinates. Day after day, year after year."
Cyril stopped where he was, but his tone became even more solemn and profound. It was as if he was telling the most terrifying and chilling ghost story.
"Until everyone, including you and I, became disgusted with the unfamiliarity, the abnormality, and developed inertia, we came to realize this truth: those who go against the habits are abnormal, and they need to be destroyed."
Thales' expression became more and more tense.
"So, these habits spread wider and wider, and they became more and more profound. They became more and more serious, and they became more and more common, until we called them …"
Cyril's tone revealed a solemn and ghastly tone that had never been heard before.
"Order."
A gust of cold wind blew, and it made Thales shudder. But the light outside the window did not give him any warmth.
Thales suddenly felt that the room at the top of the tower was very cold.
It was just like …
The Renaissance Palace in his memories.
"Do you understand what I mean, Your Highness?"
Cyril's words rang in his mind again, and they pulled him back to the present from somewhere else.
"To me, this is the only thing that is weak and pitiful, but also eternal, powerful, and profound, that maintains our rule.
"And those who want to shake these habits and order …"
Cyril sneered faintly.
"They are all very terrifying."
'Those who want to shake these habits and order …'
Thales could not help but quirk his eyebrows and snort softly.
"For example, what the Legendary Wing did to Blade Fangs Camp this time?"
The duke's voice paused for a second.
"No."
"It's not that small, it's not that close, and it's not that light either."
Fakenhaz's voice became deeper, and it sounded as if he was lamenting the past few centuries.
"For example, we all know that a long, long time ago, a certain ruler in Constellation … No, perhaps it was a few rulers in the past few generations. They used the royal power as bait, and they turned thousands of lower-class people into the suzerains' enemies."
This sentence caused Thales' nerves to tense up.
'The royal power's bait.
At that moment, Thales suddenly had a feeling that Cyril Fakenhaz, this unwelcome person who acted strangely and spoke out of turn, did not come here just to draw the second prince to his side.
The prince became even more serious.
"With the help of the royal power, they slowly climbed up the ladder and fought against us, the feudal lords."
Cyril slowly walked back to the window and looked at the desert camp under the window again.
"Hence, the rise and fall of families, the rotation of nobles, the rise and fall of countless people, the uncertainty of life and death, and the rise and fall of the kingdom today."
The duke's voice was deep and indistinct, but it left no room for doubt.
"Over the course of hundreds of years, from the succession of families, the rise and fall of noble titles, the adjudication of taxes, the appointment and dismissal of officials, the judgment of the law, and the mobilization of the army, Renaissance Palace has been seizing everything from the suzerains' hands in an orderly but unstoppable manner. It has been gentle, slow, but resolute."
When he heard this, Thales could not help but remember the scene six years ago on Dragon's Blood's Night. He had spoken passionately in front of the five archdukes and an archduchess about the current situation of Constellation.
He also remembered the story he heard from the former members of the Royal Guards not long ago.
'The rise and fall of families, the rotation of nobles …
'The rise and fall of countless people, the uncertainty of life and death …'
Thales was deep in thought and did not speak.
"You know, even though every move of both sides is clearly seen," Cyril leaned forward, as if he wanted to take a closer look at the scenery under the window, "what truly makes a chess game interesting … is that there are countless possibilities within the number of steps that can be seen clearly."
It was as if he was looking at his chessboard.
"Take one step and look at ten steps ahead. Every move you make is not only related to the chessboard at that moment, but also to the next few steps, dozens of steps, or even hundreds of steps in the game.
"From there, the opponent who is a hundred steps behind you will not be able to parry your move and will have to surrender. This is far more interesting than a face-to-face, fist-to-fist fight."
For some reason, when he heard this, Thales suddenly thought of Black Sword.
The teenager remembered the battle between that man and Giza. Black Sword led him into the Hydra Kilika's encirclement.
From the initial position of the breakthrough to the path he chose to take, Black Sword calculated and considered all the factors of the battle from the very first step, and from there, he walked towards victory step by step.
He was like a chess player who treated the battle as a game of chess.
Cyril's voice was calm and steady. His sparse hair fluttered along with his robes in the cold wind.
"He quietly placed his chess piece without batting an eyelid, and he reaped ten thousand fruits in autumn. This is the Virtuous King's brilliant path, isn't it?"
'Virtuous King.'
Thales was slightly startled.
"Virtuous King?" he subconsciously repeated.
Cyril suddenly turned around and revealed a "humorous" smile that caused people to frown. His tone returned to his usual "cordial" tone.
"What? Do you really think that after so many years, from the ridiculous National Conference to the wretched Wang family's bank, no one, no matter how stupid and slow-witted we are, can really not see through it?"
Thales' heart sank.
The duke raised his head and narrowed his eyes.
"Just like me, many of us are well aware of this."
But there is nothing we can do. "
'I know it.
'There is nothing we can do.'
Thales took a deep breath.
He could not help but think of Lampard's distressed expression when he mentioned the Virtuous King in the carriage.
'Once a chess piece is placed, a hundred years of chess play is played.'
Thales' eyebrows furrowed even tighter.
"Why? Why do you look like that?"
The duke looked at the scenery under the window. He was rather absent-minded.
"The Old Crow said in his letter that you are quite interested in the Virtuous King, am I not?"
Thales shook his head.
"I just …"
The prince's words came to an abrupt halt.
'Wait.'
Thales realized something. His eyes widened abruptly.
"The Old Crow?"
The prince looked up abruptly and cried out involuntarily.
"You know him?
"Know him? Hmph, Prince Thales … "
Cyril's laughter traveled along with the sound of the wind.
"When Meryl Hicks set off from Dragon-Kissed Land, passed through the Three Kingdoms of the Mystery Sea, entered Constellation, and traveled thousands of miles north to Eckstedt, who did you think sent troops to escort her through the desert?"
Thales was stunned.
Meryl Hicks crossed the desert and went north to Eckstedt …
'But how did the Duke of Western Desert of Constellation and the old scholar from Anlenzo Dukedom know each other?'
Cyril seemed to have sensed his doubts.
The duke heaved a long sigh. There was a hint of nostalgia in his unpleasant voice.
"When I was young and mischievous, I once had a special scholar teacher from Dragon-Kissed Land."
Thales' ears twitched.
When he said this, the duke shook his head and laughed.
"Then, my uncle discovered that his scholar qualification was fake. In his rage, he stripped Hicks naked and threw him into the Great Desert. Ah, what a nostalgic youth."
Thales blinked and took a few seconds to sort out the cause and effect.
'That means …
'The Guardian Duke of Western Desert and the Old Crow, Hicks …'
The surprise on Thales' face became even more obvious.
Putray said that the old man had been the teacher of many important people.
'It seems that he really isn't …
'Bragging?
"You and I, Your Highness, we are connected in many ways that cannot be seen by others."
The Duke of Western Desert's laughter grew louder until he turned away from the window.
Cyril spoke in a seemingly casual manner.
"As for your question about who taught me to speak like this, and whether he specializes in teaching idiots …"
Duke Fakenhaz slowly narrowed his eyes.
At that moment, Thales suddenly felt his face stiffen.
* Thud! *
Cyril's walking stick hit the floor loudly.
"I believe that Hicks has certainly taught idiots before. What do you think?"
The duke narrowed his eyes and stared straight at Thales. There was a malicious look in his eyes that could not be concealed.
"Your Highness?"
At that moment, the air in the room seemed to have frozen.
In the face of this question that he could not answer, after a long while, Thales tried his best to pull away the expression on his face, which looked as if he had just eaten a fly, and forced an awkward smile.
'Damn it.'
Under the Duke of Western Desert's vengeful gaze, Thales changed the topic with great difficulty.
"I think I know what you want to do."
Thales raised his head.
He was slowly getting used to the man's seemingly casual manner of speaking, but in fact, his words were sharp.
"You are powerless against Renaissance Palace, so you are counting on me, a new king, to change the kingdom from the throne?"
But against his expectations, Fakenhaz shook his head again.
"First of all, it is not 'we', it is just me."
Thales was slightly stunned.
"Second, change the kingdom? No, "the duke said in a low voice.
"With or without you, the kingdom has always been changing."
Cyril circled the wall again and paced back and forth in a limp manner. His right hand would occasionally tap the furnishings in the room, as if he was reminiscing about something.
"To be precise, the entire world is changing. It is not just at this moment, not just one hundred years ago, not just six hundred years ago."
The Duke of Western Desert's eyes shone with desire.
"From Black Eye John's forceful mobilization of the suzerains in the kingdom with the might of the king, to Bloodline Breaker Sumer the Second's promulgation of the Inheritance Act, Tormond the Fourth's appointment as the Sunset Sun Ritual Master, and Creditor Alan the Third's adoption of the king's tax law.
"Until Virtuous King Mindis the Third's unprecedented reform, and Poet Aydi the First's action of gathering the nobles to reside in Eternal Star City."
The master of the Fakenhaz Family put down his right hand and turned around again to face Thales. His gaze was dark.
"Until today, your father's iron-fisted rule that almost incited public anger.
"The world is changing every minute and every second, and it is not just limited to the Virtuous King's generation."
Thales felt very uncomfortable under Cyril's gaze. He could not help but hug his arms tighter.
From the second King of Constellation, Black Eye John to Kessel the Fifth. He suddenly realized that the span of history that Cyril mentioned far surpassed what Lampard mentioned in Dragon Clouds City's Heroic Spirit Palace.
'Not just the Virtuous King.
'Not just … Kessel.'
"Changing every minute and every second … These words sound very familiar."
The prince sighed.
"You are probably really the Old Crow's student."
When Cyril heard this, he snorted softly.
"Hicks, he opened my eyes, my mind, and my heart."
But his gaze immediately changed.
"But what about you? The heir of the kingdom, Prince Thales?
"Did you open them?"
Both of them were silent for a while.
"If I also opened them, what do you want me to see?"
Thales' expression darkened as he spoke slowly.
Cyril did not smile.
He only stared at Thales seriously.
It was as if he had been waiting for this moment.
"The National Conference six years ago, prince," Fakenhaz said softly.
"Tell me, what did you see?"
'Six years ago.
The National Conference. '
Thales once again remembered the conference that decided his fate. He could not help but lower his arms.
But the teenager did not read too much into it.
He only answered briefly and carefully, "My father won."
Cyril snorted coldly.
"Yes, your father won."
"He triumphed, not only in a council, but in the whole kingdom, eighteen years after he was crowned king in despair."
Thales clenched his fists.
"But …"
As expected, the Duke of Western Desert changed the topic. His words became short and fast, and his tone fluctuated.
"The conspiracy was exposed, and the kingdom lost its backbone. The Northern Territory is at peace, but do you think that the Northlanders who share the same origin as Eckstedt will be satisfied and at ease?"
The Northern Territory.
Thales remembered Miranda Arunde, who he was a "prison mate" with.
"The girls of Blade Edge Hill may rely on the royal power, but do not forget that it is Blade Edge Province, which has been famous for its frequent bandits since the Empire. The rebellion of the Bloody Year also started there."
Blade Edge Hill.
The blurry face of the Duchess of Blade Edge Hill, Lyanna Tabark, flashed in Thales' mind.
"And the Land of Cliffs has long since become restless. They are ready to make a move. You must know that Koshder Nanchester is not someone who is easy to deal with."
The Land of Cliffs.
An aggressive face with only one eye floated in front of Thales' eyes.
"As for Western Desert …" Fakenhaz paid attention to Thales' expression. A deep wariness appeared on his withered and ugly face.
"Look at what Blade Fangs Camp has experienced over the past few days, prince. Then tell me, what will Renaissance Palace gain from the suzerains of Western Desert under me?
"Will my nominal vassals tremble in fear before the Legendary Wing, or will they grit their teeth and hide their hatred?"
Thales could not help but take a deep breath when he remembered how arrogant and despotic Roman was when he faced almost everyone.
"Are you talking about my father's actions?" It had been a long time since the prince seriously considered the duke's words.
"Will they eventually bring about a mess that will be difficult to clean up?
Even with his methods? "
Cyril shook his head. At that moment, the Duke of Western Desert lost his sense of humor, which was a rare sight. His attitude and tone were gloomy.
"When will you understand that the level of your father's methods has nothing to do with the results he will face if he insists on doing things his own way?
"And it's not just him. There are countless people who stand on the king's side, like the king's partisans, or those who stand against him, like Koshder. The growing conflict between them will bring about unforeseeable consequences."
Thales gritted his teeth lightly.
In his long-term impression, his father, Kessel the Fifth, always had the upper hand in the kingdom's political struggles and was the one who firmly suppressed his opponents.
'But what Fakenhaz said …
'Does it really make sense?'
Cyril heaved a long sigh. He put down his inconvenient left foot and placed both hands on his walking stick.
"Perhaps the era of suzerains dominating an area and the kingdom's feudal vassals is slowly fading away. It is a trend and an inevitability." The duke seemed to be deep in thought.
"Perhaps this is Constellation's ferocious momentum. It never stops.
"And any actions that overestimate their own abilities and try to stop it are futile and foolish."
But in the end, Fakenhaz raised his head and stared at the prince, who was also deep in thought.
"But similarly, anyone who is impatient and wants to use the momentum of the general trend to add fuel to the fire, compress time, and speed up progress so that they can see the ending in their hearts as soon as possible is equally foolish."
'Impatient.
'Equally foolish.'
Thales did not speak.
Cyril remained serious and solemn at that moment, perhaps because he listened to Thales' suggestion.
"There is no such thing as instant results in governing a country. Even a wise and wise Virtuous King has to be careful when he makes his move, and the results will be seen in a hundred years. You cannot crudely, arbitrarily, impatiently, and shortsightedly decide the fate of thousands of people with the idea of 'accomplishing everything in one go'."
He sighed.
"Just like the Blade King Tormond the Second, the Eagle Claw Kessel the Third, and the Red King John the Second. Their biographies may seem to have great achievements in war, but in truth, the root of their troubles is buried deep.
"This will only make things worse."
Fakenhaz shut his mouth and sank into deep thought. He stood on the spot and let the cold wind blow against his leather robe.
'It may seem to have great achievements in war, but in truth, the root of their troubles is buried deep.'
For some reason, Thales suddenly thought of King Nuven.
'And Dragon Clouds City, which was deserted by its people and surrounded by enemies after the Born King passed away, and Heroic Spirit Palace, which had an unstable foundation and was in a precarious situation.
'And the pitiful girl who sat on the archduchess' seat in fear and trepidation. She could not even put Triumph on her thumb. '
Thales was silent for a long time before he snorted softly.
"I'm afraid my father will not like hearing this."
Cyril raised his gaze.
"So, you do not have to mention it in front of him.
"Unless the day comes when you can mention it."
Thales tried his best to ignore the hidden meaning in Cyril's words.
He said, "But you also said that the momentum of the general trend never stops. Any action to stop it is futile and foolish.
"If, if all these are obstacles that must be overcome …
"What if it is a path that must be taken before reaching the summit?"
After hearing this, Cyril was silent at first, then he sneered in response.
"But?"
The duke picked up his walking stick again and limped closer to Thales.
However, Thales felt that the Duke of Western Desert's terrifying face was no longer so difficult to accept.
"Be careful with your words, Thales. I believe that the Old Crow has warned us before."
Cyril Fakenhaz's expression was solemn.
"Do not let your arrogance, which comes from being at the top, destroy you, regardless of whether that arrogance comes from the contentment you feel when you sit on the throne or the frivolous conceit when you look down on the history books."
Thales could not help but tense his body when he sensed the determination in Fakenhaz's tone.
"As for the obstacles that must be overcome and the path that must be taken before reaching the summit, you must know …"
In the cold wind, the Guardian Duke of Western Desert's sharp gaze and shrill voice pressed down on Thales.
"When dawn approaches, the darkness is especially terrifying.
"Before the storm leaves, the destruction will be intense."
There were about seven or eight drafts of this chapter.
(End of this chapter)
You've already exceeded your reading limit for today. If you want to read more, please log in.
Login
Select text and click 'Report' to let us know about any bad translation.
