As mentioned last time, the language of the elves had already surpassed the scope of language that we could understand. Most of its effective meanings were hidden in the silent understanding and resonance of the speaker. This was due to the extraordinary senses that the elves were born with, which was almost like a species instinct. Even if they only have words, they can reproduce the context through pronunciation and even brush strokes, read aloud or touch, complete reference, and achieve empathy. This is unimaginable to humans who can only speak dryly … "
In the study room of Mindis Hall, Grand Scholar Bonar shook his head as usual and explained his grammar lesson in a leisurely manner.
Thales sat upright behind the desk, quietly copying the ancient elven alphabet, as well as the five to fifteen phonetic symbols for each letter. His posture was elegant and meticulous.
It was as if nothing had happened last night.
"Therefore, in written language, the elven language is often so concise and capable that it makes one's hair stand on end. The grammatical structure of the Ancient Cia elven language often omits tenses and even pronouns, while the word order of the Gurion elven language has many incomprehensible inversions. There's a little joke. An elven romance novel about a love triangle was translated into the common human language, but the readers were divided into three factions after reading the ending. They quarreled fiercely because all three factions felt that the pair of characters they liked ended up together, until the original author could not help but jump out and say that he wrote a hexagon romance …"
Grand Scholar Bonar's voice buzzed, but Thales remained focused.
The Star Lake Guards who accompanied him closely at the door were still the pairing of a vanguard and a guard (as Mallos preferred), but not Glover and Doyle of the past. Instead, it was the young Ness and the burly Bastia, whom Thales was unfamiliar with. Both of them had performed well last night. The former subdued Doyle, who was eager to save his father, with his iron fist, while the latter showed Thales the toughness of his abdominal muscles.
Therefore, Glover and Doyle had also changed shifts.
Thales said quietly.
"In view of this, when the Rudollians, the origin of the Empire and the uncivilized era, imitated the ancient elves in creating the alphabet, they had to add a lot of additional grammatical standards, such as tense, voice, subject-verb-object order, and so on, to clarify things that the ancient elves could perceive without the trouble of describing. Thus, they went to the other extreme, which later resulted in the complex, detailed, and ever-changing ancient language of the Empire. In this way, we have to be extra careful when reading or even translating the elven language … "
There was no sun today. The cold wind howled, and it was bone-chilling.
Mindis Hall also appeared desolate and silent.
In previous years, Eternal Star City would have already entered winter at this time of the year, but this year's autumn seemed to be especially long. It was gloomy, dreary, and grim.
The Duke of Star Lake quietly moved his wrist and watched the letters appear on the paper.
After one night, his back was stiff, his forehead ached, and the sides of his legs were cold.
All of this reminded him that the corner of the bedroom was not a good place to sleep.
"Therefore, it is not difficult to understand why different races have different languages, and how different languages shape different races. Language is a tool, a result, but it is also a master, a cause. It is the best example of turning from guest to host, deeply influencing the user in the midst of change …"
As he listened to Scholar Bonar's whisper, Thales' eyes focused on the letters in front of him. The tip of the pen moved as delicately as a machine, every stroke was meticulous and precise.
Other than that, there was nothing else.
The "others" that he hated to face.
"… It's far away."
Scholar Bonar's voice became a little ethereal, his pitch strange, fluctuating between high and low.
The young duke did not respond. He changed the paper expressionlessly and turned to the next page to copy.
The next page.
And the next page.
But Scholar Bonar's volume suddenly rose.
"It's — far!"
The tip of Thales' pen trembled, and a drop of ink spread on the paper.
He came back to his senses and looked up in surprise.
"Ah? I'm sorry? "
In front of him, the calm and composed Scholar Bonar had his hands clasped together and was watching him with interest.
Scholar Bonar smiled and explained patiently, "That was a sentence in Ancient Cia.
"That was a sentence in the Ancient Cia elven language. If you annotate all the information contained in the pronunciation, it can be translated as —"
The scholar returned to his seat and said in a playful tone,
"Your heart is not with me, not in the class, not even in the letters under your pen, Your Highness."
Thales was stunned for a second.
Although he quickly thought of a few excuses, he finally sighed and apologized sincerely.
"I-I'm sorry, Scholar Bonar."
"Oh, no, I should be the one apologizing." Scholar Bonar picked up his teacup without a trace of anger.
"My explanation is obviously not interesting enough for you to focus your attention and forget your worries."
Thales shook his head.
"It's not your fault. You're an excellent teacher. It's just that I —"
But Bonar interrupted him.
"I heard about what happened last night."
Thales paused.
"Respect and understanding are good things, Your Highness. It's even more valuable not to ignore the value and connotation of a person, even an enemy."
"Is that so?" The prince forced a smile and suppressed his chaotic emotions.
Scholar Bonar closed his textbook and said faintly,
"But don't forget that you're also a person."
Hearing this, Thales was stunned for a moment.
The old scholar, who was a person of virtue and prestige, smiled.
"So I think we might as well end class early."
Thales put down his pen.
He just realized that the page of elven language he had copied was full of mistakes.
The teenager sighed.
"Thank you for your understanding, Scholar Bonar. I'm grateful."
Scholar Bonar smiled slightly.
"And the reason why we have to improve our grammar and study language is not to stop at daily conversations and letter writing, Your Highness."
He stood up and said meaningfully, "I'm sorry.
"It's precisely because we, as humans, value each other's values and feelings, and because we want to better communicate and understand each other, and unearth and express what's hidden in our hearts.
"Instead of superficial behavior and reactions, falling into blind self-awareness and misunderstanding, constrained by malicious conjectures and suspicions, and trapped by indifferent nature and rules.
"The reason why we're different from animals and beasts, Your Highness, is not because 'we' know how to make fire …"
The doddering Scholar Bonar carefully put away his teaching materials.
"It's because some of 'us' know how to make fire, and some don't."
There was a profound meaning in these words, and Thales was speechless.
He could only stand up and bow respectfully.
After Scholar Bonar left, Thales looked at the gloomy weather outside the window and summoned his attendants, Ness and Bastia.
"Has there been any news from Renaissance Palace?"
"No, Your Highness."
As a probationary vanguard, it was obviously the first time Ness had received the task of serving the prince closely. The young man, who was only a few years older than Thales, was very excited. He looked at the prince with eager and expectant eyes.
"In fact, I think the palace is very busy because of … what happened last night."
'Last night.'
Thales sighed, his mood gloomy.
The older Bastia glanced at Ness, but the young man was oblivious to it and was still in high spirits.
"Do you want to send someone to Renaissance Palace to ask? I can — "
"No, there's no need."
Thales stood up.
"I want to change. Next is martial arts class, before Mallos arrives. "The duke stood up and unbuttoned his cuffs. After last night, he had an urgent desire to wield a weapon.
"I want to go to the training field to warm up first."
Ness was beaming with joy.
"Of course, I'll inform the servants —"
"But, Your Highness," the older Bastia said hesitantly. His voice was rough, like the bellows in a blacksmith's shop.
"About the training field …"
He wanted to say something but stopped.
"What's wrong?" Thales looked at this guard officer who was as strong as a hill and recalled the strength he had when he surrounded him last night. He wondered if every royal guard had a person of such a build.
"Doyle just came back."
Thales' hand that was unbuttoning paused.
Bastia observed Thales' expression and quickly said, "I mean, Doyle.
"I mean, Doyle and Vanguard Glover are currently on the training field … with Officer Mallos."
Thales turned around, puzzled.
"So?"
The two of them looked at each other and did not answer him.
Soon, he no longer had to wonder.
When Thales arrived at the training field, most of the Star Lake Guards were there. They were divided into several teams according to seniority and duty, forming a semicircle — just like the last time Thales was "tested".
Ness was about to shout a reminder to everyone to salute, but Bastia quickly intercepted him.
Thales could feel that the atmosphere was not right.
Under the gloomy sky, everyone stood in silence. No one whispered to each other, no one even dared to make any unnecessary movements.
Thales' gaze swept past the crowd and saw Mallos standing at the forefront.
He had his hands behind his back, his expression calm and his eyes calm, but his entire being exuded an unsettling aura.
Penal Officer Patterson, Logistics Officer Stone, Flag Bearer Fuby, these senior guards with special identities stood behind the watchman with solemn expressions.
And right in front of Mallos, in the middle of the training field, two people knelt on one knee, hands on their chests and heads bowed.
They were under everyone's gaze.
That was Doyle and Glover.
Thales was slightly startled.
The prince subconsciously stood to the side of the training field and did not continue forward.
His instincts told him that he should not go any closer.
There were still people who noticed the duke's arrival, but obviously, the atmosphere in front of them prevented them from saluting loudly. Many just bowed slightly and kept their eyes on their chests.
Mallos soon saw Thales as well. He only gave him a light glance before returning to the matter at hand nonchalantly.
"Patterson, get to work."
In front of the crowd, Penal Officer Patterson took a cold step forward, passed Mallos, and came before the two people kneeling on the ground.
"First-class Protector, Danny Doyle."
Doyle, who was kneeling on the ground, trembled slightly.
The Penal Officer's voice was calm but cold, with a judgment that left no room for doubt.
"As the most prestigious protector in Mindis Hall, your audacity last night endangered the safety of His Highness, obstructed the work of your colleagues, jeopardized the responsibility of the guards, and went against your mission."
Watching from the sidelines, Thales closed his eyes. He knew what was going on.
But last night …
Thales thought of Baron Doyle, whose face was full of fear, the hysterical baroness, and Doyle, who angrily brandished his sword.
Then he thought of Anker Byrael, who was smiling in despair.
And the countless pairs of eyes watching from the sidelines.
He felt a wave of discomfort.
"Sharpen thy sword to sharpen its edge."
Patterson uttered an old-fashioned phrase. He lowered his gaze and looked coldly at Doyle, who was kneeling on the ground.
"Do you have anything to complain about?"
Doyle looked haggard and his eyes were bloodshot. It was obvious that he had not slept all night.
At the moment, his attire was messy and his hair was disheveled. He was a far cry from the usual image of a rich young master who slacked off but had a good image.
"No, Penal Officer Patterson." Doyle took a few deep breaths and raised his head. His expression was bitter and sorrowful. Only when he saw Thales did his eyes brighten.
"My recklessness has implicated His Highness and everyone else. I am willing to take responsibility for my mistake."
He put down the hand on his knee and knelt on the ground. He lowered his head deeply.
"Sharpen thy sword to sharpen its edge."
None of the bystanders among the guards spoke. Everyone stared at them silently. The atmosphere was somber.
Patterson glanced at Mallos. The latter did not make a sound.
"Very well, then." The Penal Officer nodded and said indifferently,
"Nine lashes."
When the verdict was announced, there was finally a small ripple among the guards, but it was quickly suppressed.
Behind Patterson, Capone and Pedrossi of the Disciplinary Division — the former was always teased by Doyle as "Patterson's Little Cotton-Padded Jacket", and the latter was a member of the impromptu sniper team last night — walked forward with expressionless faces.
Doyle, who was kneeling on the ground, was already prepared. Under everyone's gaze, he quietly removed his weapon and handed it to the Penal Officer. Then, he took off his equipment and clothes one by one: coat, jacket, wrist guards, arm guards, leather armor, belt, scarf, undershirt …
Until his muscular and well-proportioned upper body was revealed, shivering slightly in the cold autumn wind.
The Penal Officer did not stop and turned to another person.
"Caleb Glover, First-class Vanguard."
Glover, nicknamed Zombie, did not answer. His expression was as calm as ever.
It was as if it was not his name that was evoked.
"As the most experienced and most skilled vanguard official in Mindis Hall, you did not pay attention to your partner's emotional state at all. After you realized it, out of sympathy, you ignored your responsibility and even violated orders, allowing him to act recklessly."
Doyle bit his lower lip, but did not dare to say anything.
Compared to before, Patterson's reprimand to Glover was harsher.
"Thy sword shall be sharpened to shine its edge."
"Any objections?"
Glover raised his head slowly, like a statue that had been sealed for a thousand years coming into contact with the air and falling dust.
"No."
Zombie said hoarsely. His voice was calm and flat.
"My sword shall be sharpened to shine its edge."
Patterson stared at him for a long time before he spoke.
"Seven lashes."
Glover's movements were swift and fierce without needing any reminders. He knelt on both knees and consciously removed his weapon and armor, revealing a body of strong but tanned and rough muscles. His body was full of potholes and old scars, a stark contrast to Doyle.
Just like that, the two of them knelt on the training ground with their upper bodies bare, facing the gazes of their peers.
Mallos still did not make a sound. He only watched coldly.
Thales' emotions grew more and more complicated.
Capone of the Disciplinary Division silently opened his equipment bag and took out two short sticks the size of a spindle. He handed them to Doyle and Glover and let them bite them in their mouths.
"You've all had experience." Capone released the wooden stick that Glover held tightly in his mouth and whispered between the two of them.
"I only have one piece of advice: bite tight, don't drop it."
On the other side, Pezarossi methodically took out two fist-sized brown leather objects that were tied up like bows and slowly untied them until they looked like two leather whips.
The two whips were slender and sturdy. Pezarossi swung them in the air twice, and they made a whistling sound.
Many of the guards frowned.
Doyle took a deep breath. Glover looked even more serious.
"Bear with it, boys," Penal Officer Patterson said coldly.
"Trust me, I've seen the barbed whips used by the Northlanders. They're thicker than the hemp ropes used to hang the city gates. That's even worse."
Doyle looked like he accepted it calmly. He turned his head to look at Thales and nodded deeply at the prince.
Thales sighed and nodded silently at him.
Mallos frowned when he saw this.
The next second, Patterson waved his hand.
Capone and Pezarossi came behind the two of them and skillfully shook off the whips.
But at that moment, the penal officer's shoulder was pressed down.
It was Mallos.
"Gray, you'll be in charge of Glover." The watchman looked at the surprised Patterson, walked forward, and gestured for Capone to pass the whip to him.
"As for Protector Doyle, I'll do it."
There was quite a commotion among the guards.
Doyle and Glover were also extremely surprised.
Patterson frowned.
"We'll do it ourselves? Actually, we don't have to — "
But Mallos quickly interrupted him.
"Since there are nobles in the audience, we have to be more serious, don't we?"
The watchman glanced sideways at Thales.
The guards' commotion was quickly suppressed.
The prince felt a chill in his heart and cast an indignant look at Mallos.
"But I —"
"Although this is the internal affairs of the guards, Your Highness," Mallos did not give Thales a chance to speak. He bowed to the prince and smiled faintly.
"But you're still welcome to watch and be a witness.
"Or, are you willing to count out the number of whips for us?"
Thales was in disbelief. He was rendered speechless by him.
Patterson sighed. He walked behind Glover, pushed aside the stunned Pezarossi, and took the whip from him.
Mallos came behind Doyle and flicked the whip in his hand. He smiled at Thales and did not wait for the latter's response.
"Alright then. Since His Highness is unwilling, then Toledo, you count out."
Among the crowd, Toledo — Mallos' messenger — was stunned for a moment.
He looked at his superior, then at the prince, a little at a loss.
Until Mallos looked displeased.
"Now!"
Toledo did not dare to hesitate. He took a step forward, raised his head, and shouted,
"One!"
As soon as he finished.
Under Thales' shocked and angry gaze, Mallos and Patterson swung their arms at the same time.
"Whoosh whoosh …"
Their movements were practiced and smooth. The two whips were swung at almost the same angle, and the sound of the whips breaking through the air was almost identical!
Thales' breathing stagnated.
In the next second, the leather and skin trembled under the high-speed contact, making a sound that tore through the air —
"Smack!"
It was crisp, piercing, cold, and terrifying.
In the field, Doyle shuddered violently!
He subconsciously clasped his hands together and bowed forward, but quickly reacted by putting down his hands and straightening his back.
On the other side, Glover bit on his short rod. His expression remained the same, and his body was like steel. He only trembled slightly the moment the whip touched him.
But both of them were short of breath.
Thales soon saw that the upper backs of the two tortured, whether rough or smooth, revealed a fine and terrifying red line from the upper right to the lower left. Bright red seeped out from it and spread to other parts of the skin.
"This strength," Thales heard Bastia sigh in a low voice, intentionally or unintentionally.
"It's going to leave a scar."
The onlookers' breathing was uneven, their gazes complicated.
Mallos stretched out his left hand and stopped Toledo from counting out.
He slowly said, "Protector Danny Doyle, do you know what your biggest mistake last night was?"
Doyle was still immersed in the pain of the first whip. He did not speak, but only bit on his short rod, his face twisted.
Mallos was silent for a while, then he turned to Toledo.
Toledo did not dare to delay any longer, and hurriedly counted out.
"Two."
Mallos and Patterson's whips swung out in an arc again.
Smack!
Doyle and Glover shuddered again.
Thales subconsciously turned his head, as if he could feel the unbearable pain even though he was watching from the sidelines.
"Answer me."
Mallos flashed his usual calm smile.
"Protector Doyle …"
"Do you know?"
Doyle panted heavily, his eyes showing signs of struggle.
But in the end, Doyle took a deep breath!
He spat out the short rod decisively, endured the pain, and said,
"Because my choice was reckless and selfish, endangering His Highness and everyone else!"
Mallos snorted softly, and signaled to Toledo.
"Three."
The whip shadows appeared again, and both tore through the air.
Smack!
This time, without the short rod in his mouth, Doyle groaned in pain, and fell forward. It took him a few seconds to straighten his back and kneel again.
On the other side, Glover only bit on the short rod tighter and tighter as he watched him.
"Wrong answer."
Mallos said calmly.
"Tell me, Doyle, when the interests of the individual and the collective conflict," the watchman shook his whip,
"What will you choose?"
As soon as he said this, Thales, Doyle, Glover, and the guards present were all stunned.
"Or let me put it bluntly, when one day, your family and loved ones conflict with your duty and mission," Mallos glanced at Toledo, who was counting, and said nonchalantly,
"What will you choose?"
Toledo sighed.
"Four."
Both whips danced in unison.
Smack!
Doyle groaned in pain through gritted teeth. Glover obviously could not take it anymore, and his body began to sway.
They panted rapidly, and blood began to seep from their backs.
"What if someone threatens you with the lives of your family members and harms His Highness?"
Mallos' voice grew louder.
"What if your dearest family members want you to betray His Highness?"
Thales' heart tensed.
He suddenly remembered the Prison of Bones and the former Royal Guards.
Doyle caught his breath and straightened his back again, but he was already drenched in sweat and looked pathetic.
He hissed in pain, "I'm sorry.
"I-I failed my mission last night, Your Grace!"
Mallos furrowed his brows.
This time, he did not wait for Toledo to count. He swung his arm and whipped, creating an explosion that was much more terrifying than the previous one!
Smack!
Doyle screamed and collapsed on the ground, trembling uncontrollably.
The guards also trembled.
On the other side, Patterson was stunned for a moment, but immediately reacted. He whipped Glover until he arched his back and twitched.
Toledo hurriedly followed and reported the number.
"Filthy — Five!"
Thales could not bear to watch anymore. He looked away and felt his heart sink.
Mallos exhaled. He looked at Doyle, who was trembling uncontrollably, and turned his head to look at another person.
"You, Vanguard Caleb Glover.
"You answer me.
"What will you choose?"
Glover, who was also drenched in sweat and covered in dust, took a few deep breaths and straightened his body with a determined gaze.
The zombie spat out the short stick and said hoarsely,
"We've all sworn an oath, sir! To dedicate our lives to the throne, and to serve the royal power forever. "
Mallos paced and pursed his lips.
"So?"
Under the double torture of pain and humiliation, Glover revealed a ferocious expression.
"So we must make sacrifices. Mission comes before family."
Thales' breathing quickened as he listened to him.
Mallos suddenly turned around and whipped again!
Smack!
After a terrifying explosion, Glover cried out in pain and fell to the ground!
Patterson, who was holding the whip, frowned. He looked at Glover, who was supposed to be his mission, and then at the gloomy Mallos. He did not understand.
"Give him five more lashes."
Without waiting for Toledo to report, Mallos gestured with his chin at Glover, who was under him, and said to Patterson,
"Also, the whip just now does not count."
The penal officer looked surprised and doubtful.
"Because you held back on that whip, Gray." Mallos did not wait for the other party to speak and said calmly,
"You know, I trust you very much."
Patterson's expression froze.
The penal officer gripped the whip handle tightly and did not make a sound. He did not dare to show any mercy.
On the other side, Doyle, who had recovered, looked at the trembling Glover on the ground and hurriedly said,
"My lord, sir! This has nothing to do with the zombies. Last night, I … "
He gritted his teeth and ignored the tears and snot on his face.
"I made the wrong choice! I dared not make the sacrifice! "
Mallos frowned slightly and swung his arm.
Smack!
With the sound of the whip, Doyle also fell to the ground. His back was dripping with blood and he was panting intermittently.
"Five more lashes for this too," Mallos said calmly, but did not explain why.
Toledo did not dare to hesitate and continued to count.
Thales wanted to speak up, but when he remembered that it was his appearance that worsened the situation and increased their punishment, he had to force himself to calm down and hold back all his words.
Mallos raised his head and looked at the guards.
"Sacrifice."
The watchman spoke softly, but it made everyone stand up straight in awe.
"This word always seems easy when you say it, doesn't it?"
"Sacred, glorious, great. It makes one's emotions surge and feel like they have ascended."
Mallos paced and did not continue the whipping immediately.
"But many people forget."
Mallos looked at the gloomy sky with misty eyes, as if he was looking at an unreachable god.
"The essence of sacrifice …
"It's a transaction."
Under everyone's shocked gaze, the watchman slowly lowered his head.
Doyle and Glover clenched their teeth again and straightened their backs.
"In ancient times, when the belief in the God of Light was still prevalent, mortals would offer sacrifices in front of the altar in exchange for the blessings of the gods. This is the source of sacrifice."
As soon as he finished, Toledo began to count again, and the next crack of the whip sounded.
Smack!
The two who were being whipped fell again, their elbows on the ground.
Thales' pupils constricted violently.
"So it's exactly the opposite of what it sounds like — sacrifice is selfish."
Mallos' tone was profound.
"It's a transaction that seeks profit."
(End of this chapter)
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