The void receded like the tide.
The night was dark. The windows were open, and the curtains danced like ghosts. The candles had been extinguished, and the moonlight poured into the room.
"Do you believe her?" After a long silence, Sydney asked.
Brando was silent. "She didn't lie."
But that was all. Not lying did not mean good intentions, and lying did not mean evil intentions. A fatal trap could be hidden behind the truth.
Neither of them were rookies, and they both understood this in their hearts.
"So, what are you going to do?"
"We have to change our plan." Brando replied, "I'll call The Shire and Mephistopheles. Ms. Sydney, please inform the ladies."
The statue of the Lion Palace nodded.
Outside the window, the huge shadow of the capital was entrenched.
However, it was not the prosperous soil that thrived under the shadow. Since the beginning of the civil war, the prosperity had long faded from this thousand-year-old city, leaving only unspeakable wounds.
The people living here did not understand why the Empire was fighting. Most of them had never even heard of the name Mardos. Although there were missionaries handing out leaflets on the streets every day, and they were forced to attend weekly worship services to preach Her Majesty's justice and so-called history.
But that was all too far away.
They did not understand why they were involved in this vortex for an illusory goal. Were the Sages wrong? How could that be?
The pride of the people of the Flame King was based on justice. How could they inherit the Dark Empire of the past?
What right did they have?
They did not understand why they had to kill each other for all this.
This was a civil war of the Empire, and the blood that flowed was the blood of the people of Cruz.
People died every day. They were the husbands of wives, the children of parents, the fathers of children, and the relatives and friends of others.
Even more people went missing on the battlefield. There was no news of them.
Some people's relatives died at the hands of the Lionmen of Jorgendy Ridge and Toquinin, but the Queen did not give them the corresponding honor. Instead, she called them traitors.
For this reason, many people were secretly grateful to the Crown Prince, and the Count of Erouine whom they had never met, because these two had avenged them.
Later, these people were found out by the witches and hanged because they had betrayed the country.
Life was becoming more and more difficult.
Many people missed the days of the past. The capital of the empire had an inexhaustible supply of resources, and everyone lived a good life. They were proud to be citizens of the empire, and they didn't have to bear the pain of loss.
But now, the glory was gone, and the supplies delivered to the imperial capital every day had to be prioritized for His Majesty's celebration.
The circle of nobles was still talking about the upcoming engagement ceremony of the countess, but in the lower levels of the empire, the enthusiasm was fading day by day.
Until one day, all the voices fell silent.
There was only a silent expression left in the darkness.
The path is the goal.
After eight o 'clock, all kinds of figures began to appear on the dark and gloomy streets.
They were dressed in different colors. Some were poor people, some were tailors, some were candlesticks, cobblers, or butchers. There were even low-level officials and soldiers.
But the only thing they had in common was their silence.
They were like a group of ghosts.
When the two city guards on duty saw this scene, they felt as if they had seen a legendary ghost and shuddered.
"There are more people today …" One of the soldiers whispered uneasily.
"Where are the patrolling cavalry? Why didn't anyone come to check …?"
"Don't joke around. Do they dare to check? Those soft-footed shrimps only dare to bully their own people."
"But, captain …"
"Shh, lower your voice. Have you forgotten the guard at the gate?"
The soldier who spoke felt a chill down his spine and subconsciously shut his mouth.
Of course, he remembered that person. He was still a young man who didn't fit in with the crowd. The other party just dispersed these people's gathering. A week ago, his body was found in the woods outside the city.
Because the murderer couldn't be traced, the case was left unsettled.
He also heard that the number of missing guards had increased recently. Although the news was only privately circulated, the occasional word leaked still made a low-level city guard like him feel uneasy.
"Besides," the captain spoke again, his tone resentful, "what's the benefit of us caring so much? My brother died in Anzeruta. What happened to him? His Majesty calls them traitors. I don't believe that he would betray us. Now, that damned palace manager wants to use this as an excuse to investigate me. Do you think I don't know that he just wants to arrange a position for his nephew? "
He spat angrily.
The soldier was silent.
He wanted to refute, but he didn't know what to say. Was the captain wrong? What happened in front of him was the truth.
He even thought that maybe it was better to lose this job. The atmosphere in the city was getting stranger by the day. Maybe one day he would lose his head because of this.
But if he lost this job, what should he do? Life was getting harder and harder. People in the slums were starving to death. If he lost his job, what should he use to feed his family?
This was like a dead knot that couldn't be untied. It was suffocating.
Why was it like this?
What happened to the Empire?
"The Empire is sick …" A man in a long robe walked past the two of them. He looked back at them. His snake-like pupils made them shudder. The other party seemed to be very satisfied with the resentment in the soldier's eyes. After saying this, he walked away.
"Crazy!" The captain cursed.
The soldier hurriedly pulled him back.
"Don't hold me back. I won't stoop to his level," the captain said angrily, "Don't believe him. Although the current situation is bad, these people who hide their heads and tails are even more untrustworthy."
The soldier looked in the direction that the man left in.
Was the Empire really sick?
But if the Empire wasn't sick, why would it become like this?
"Seti!"
The candlestick maker's daughter heard someone calling her name. She turned around and saw Arthas. He was a handsome young man. She liked him.
"Arthas!"
Seti snapped out of her thoughts. She wanted to ask Arthas if the Empire was really sick. Otherwise, why would her brother die in the South?
Why was there a war?
But she knew that Arthas didn't want to talk about this with her. He hated those believers, but he hated this even more.
"The ceremony is about to begin." Arthas waved at her. "This way."
Seti nodded and squeezed through the crowd to follow Arthas.
…
"Today … we are going to … end here …"
"All of this …"
Shouts could be heard intermittently.
More and more people gathered, and some guys in black robes were giving impassioned speeches. The commotion was like ripples on the surface of the water, spreading through the crowd.
Brando and the others walked through the streets and watched in silence.
The Shire, Brando, Mephistopheles, Andrique, and Vahina were in a group of five. They all wore long cloaks and pulled up their hoods. They looked similar to the people giving speeches.
In fact, they had been mistaken for those people many times along the way. The people around them were all respectful to them. It was an unexpected coincidence.
"So this is the capital of the Empire. It's amazing," The Shire praised: "It really lives up to its name. Those people are really good at persuading people. They're almost as good as my charm magic."
"It wasn't like this before …" Vahina didn't look too good. Even though she was born in Mehotofen, she grew up in this city. She didn't feel good seeing the city that was once the pride of the Empire turn into this.
"I'm afraid something bad is going to happen." The Shire couldn't help but shake his head.
Brando also had the same feeling, but he was curious as to why the city guards and patrolling knights didn't do anything. Could it be that the Silver Queen couldn't even control the situation under his watch?
Didn't she have the witches working for her?
"Kill him …"
"He's the Queen's lackey!"
A commotion came from the street in front of them.
Brando and the others were slightly stunned. The crowd in front of them had already gathered together. There seemed to be someone in the middle who was being punched and kicked by the people around him.
"The Shire, separate them."
"My Lord, there's no need for us to complicate matters."
"They're blocking our path." Brando replied in annoyance.
Charles shrugged. He stretched out his five fingers and chanted an incantation. An invisible force spread out from his palm, causing the citizens to move to the left and right.
Two people who were surrounded in the middle were revealed. Judging from their attire, they should be patrolling knights.
One of them was in good condition, but the other was lying on the ground on the verge of death.
The red-eyed people wanted to surround them again after being separated by The Shire, but they couldn't help but stop when they saw Brando and the others.
"Speaking of which, who was the one who chose this attire?" The Shire couldn't help but admire: "It's surprisingly accurate."
"Didn't you say that this robe doesn't look like a good person?"
"Ah," The Shire suddenly realized: "My Lord, so this was your idea."
Brando ignored him and walked towards the two people. The injured patrolling Knight struggled to stand up and shouted angrily:
"You damned cultists, I don't need your pity. You killed The Shire, come and kill me if you can!"
"Pfft," Vahina couldn't help but laugh even though she was in a bad mood.
"This unlucky bastard has the same name as you." Brando teased.
"Shut your mouth —" The Shire felt humiliated and vented his anger on the Knight: "Your friend isn't dead yet."
"What did you say?"
"I said your friend is still alive," The Shire snapped: "If you don't want him to die, take him and get a doctor!"
The Knight's expression changed. He no longer cared about cursing Brando and the others. Although he looked at The Shire doubtfully, he chose to believe him and carried his companion on his back and limped away.
Brendel looked at their backs, then at the puzzled gazes around him, as well as the faces of those who were twisted by hatred. He could not help but shake his head.
Vahina was right. The Imperial Capital wasn't like this. He had been here before, in another world.
At that time, this was a prosperous city. Although it was luxurious, it wasn't as lifeless as it was now.
What was it that had caused all of this?
He suddenly felt a little gloomy.
"The Shire, what do you think we're fighting for?"
"Of course it's for Erouine," The Shire replied matter-of-factly: "What's wrong with that?"
"The Silver Queen has her own ideals," Brando replied: "What she did might not be wrong, but?"
"Facts have proven that what she did was wrong," The Shire replied: "Isn't this the best proof?"
"But we're fighting for Erouine, and we're bringing war to Erouine as well," Brando turned to look at his earliest follower and asked: "We've never lost an arm or a leg in war, but there are people who have lost everything in war. To them, is what we're doing right?"
"About that …"
"That's a funny question," Andrique couldn't help but interrupt. She mocked Brando with disdain: "There's someone holding a knife to your neck, and you still have the time to discuss whether war is right or wrong?"
"There's only victory and defeat, life and death."
War for resistance and survival is indeed just.
But Erouine's destruction may be inevitable in history, but he chose to do so, and did not hesitate to make many people pay the price.
Is everything he's doing really justified?
Brando couldn't help but ask this question repeatedly in his mind.
"Brando," Vahina spoke: "There's the best answer to this question right now."
Brando looked at the young lady in confusion.
"Just look at these people and you'll understand. What you've done, what you've done, what you've done, what you've done, what you've done, what you've done, what you've done, what you've done, what you've done, what you've done, what you've done?"
"Teacher once taught me that the progress of history, the progress of civilization, is for the pursuit of happiness."
"In order to protect everything, people are never stingy with sacrifices."
Brendel suddenly understood something in his heart.
Perhaps this was the true meaning of the Path of the Golden Flames.
The original intention of fighting was not to kill or hate, but to pursue and protect something better.
The leader of Abies, Tónigel, and Erouine — — -
Does he have the confidence to make this country a better place?
Yes.
He has the confidence.
If that's the case, then it's time to move forward.
At this moment, Brando suddenly saw double in front of his eyes. He suddenly saw the scene he saw in Valhalla.
Within the light, Martha put her hand on his shoulder and pointed at his forehead, telling him:
"I will bestow upon you a pair of wings made of light, that's why I can make you King"
"One day, I will be glorious because of you"
This is glory — — -
He raised his head, completely understanding the faith that the Flame Sword carried in its heart.
"Let's go" Brando replied: "The Frost Dew Manor is right in front of us"
"Let us meet that Empress — —"
…
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