Chapter 25 One in Ten

The forehead of the one who will wear the iron crown is decorated with a silver ring imitating a crown.

The silver ring was gorgeous and exquisite, but it only made Perturabo feel that its value had been compromised by the craftsmen who forged it for him.

"Who are you?" Perturabo asked loudly.

"Harkon, a prince," said Harkon humbly.

"I know you are Harkon, the eldest prince of Lokos. Everyone knows your reputation." He sarcastically said, "But as you stand here today, whose identity are you speaking? Do you symbolize justice or do you symbolize justice?" How dare you say that there is no selfishness in this competition? "

Harkon's polite appearance was immediately destroyed, his eyes showed a gloomy look, and the palms hanging by his sides were tense with exertion.

"How can I symbolize such a noble concept?" Rarely, he did not mention the Olympian gods any more. Perhaps Harkon himself knew that he could not win the argument.

"I speak with a Lokos voice, Perturabo."

He spread his right hand gracefully, and the silk robe fluttered with the movement of his palm. "Each reviewer thought carefully before giving the reason why they left their names in the counting of votes. Although I am not as skilled a craftsman as my brother, but I am also proficient in the craftsmanship, and I can hear the sincere appreciation of the two works from the judges’ words.”

"As for the current voting results, it is proof of the extraordinary level of the two candidates who are equally matched."

"You are proficient in the art, but do you have the skills to give your evaluation?"

Behind Harkon, Callifon stood up from her seat silently and whispered something beside the tyrant. Few people noticed her behavior.

"The statue of Hephonia is kind and dignified, and your works are bold in conception, and they are all wonderful works." Harkon stared at Perturabo and said, waving his hand, a waiter came forward, holding a gold-plated The clay pot is waiting at the side.

He took the lead in asking the waiter to pour him a glass of clear water. Holding the cup in both hands, he invited Perturabo: "This clear spring is taken from the lake where Hephonia was born in Caldis. It was sent by the envoys to serve Caldis." A gift sent from afar by Prince Adolfus of Styria, with a fan of quartz feathers to keep warm from the snow from the mountaintop, and transported in a tall golden can, specially presented to our gloriously victorious friend, the genius Perturabo. ”

"Enjoy your victory, friend of the Lokos," said Harkon, with a false light on his noble face.

Perturabo stared at Harkon, feeling his ears burning and his teeth clenching.

glory? The word didn't burn through his tongue? He actually wants me to acknowledge the victory of his charity?

Perturabo's energy was as high as ever, because the strategy and situation before him became too clear.

The judges, the citizens in the streets, and even foreign scholars and envoys all watched his every move.

What is reflected in people's eyes is not two static stone sculptures on the stage, but a living performer's debut in front of the general public in Lokos.

His talent is too far away from the public, his victory is natural, but his actions are what will truly be judged and recorded in the eyes of countless people.

Morse had anticipated this day, so he did not come to teach him the art of engraving.

Because at this moment, carving skills don't matter.

"Will you accept Olympia's wishes, venerable Perturabo? Or does the Lokos' heart offend you, so that you refuse?" said Harkon.

But Perturabo only captured the disgusting calculation and greed from his endless chatter of forced names. Even though Harkon spoke respectfully, he only felt a strong nausea in his heart.

He saw two dark roads in front of him: accept this cup of "blessing" and choose a coffin of power and power for himself; or reject Lokos's supreme status in front of everyone and fall into the filthy world of arrogance and bigotry. The famous Wang Yang.

Andos stood up from his seat at some point. His steps are steady, more powerful than wrought iron or carved stone.

"My brother," said the prince, standing beside Perturabo. His voice was very soft, not speaking to the people around him, but just talking among a few people, "When did you prepare this generous gift... It would be a bit difficult for Karl to keep the spring water from afar clear. Dis's messenger."

He turned his head and looked at his sculpture, his eyes filled with sadness. "If it was prepared after you visited me... why not return the spring water to the Olympian goddess of blessing and reenact the myth of Hephonia being born in the water."

】

Callifon left Damex's side and gathered together with Perturabo. "What do you think? Let the spring water be blessed at the fingertips of the goddess's hands?" She asked not Harkon, but Perturabo.

"Sister, I don't think..."

Callifon didn't even look up. "Today's winner is Perturabo, so it shouldn't be you who makes the decision."

"But I have not won yet," said Perturabo.

He raised his head and killed Harkon's smiling face with a stern look. "Today's judges are citizens, and I haven't seen many citizens on this high platform. You said you spoke with the voice of the Lokos, but I clearly haven't heard the voice of the Lokos clearly."

"Califon, explain this to me and the tyrant."

He turned outside the high platform and looked at the houses of Lokos, the streets divided by the houses, the people carried by the streets, and Lokos itself, which was composed of countless people.

"From this stage, I want to choose one person out of every ten people to come to this stage."

Perturabo glanced at the audience who still didn't know what was happening on the high platform, calculating their height and strength in his mind. His brain told him that these people were no shorter and weaker than him.

He thought of Morse. Then I thought that a very small number of these people were even taller than Morse.

The sudden intrusion made it easier for him to endure his anger, until he remembered that Morse had not yet appeared.

He unhappily let his annoyance be relieved by glaring at Harkon.

"They don't know the owners of these two works yet, right?"

He declared loudly: "Then I want to listen to their words. I want their secret votes."

Perturabo stepped forward, snatched the cup from Harkon, and poured the water back into the golden pot containing the water of the Lake of God's birth. "Gifts from far away do not need to be wasted in the palm of the stone statue. Since it is the winner's prize, it is waiting for the winner to drink."

"Since this competition is in front of the citizens, let the citizens judge."

After doing all this, he sneered unabashedly at Harkon: "In addition, I can see that the difference between the proficient art you speak of and the uninformed art of other citizens is only whether it is boasted or not. You are the one to evaluate it. Well, I don’t mind if more people criticize my stone sculptures.”

"I demand a recount," said the victorious boy.

Harkon turned his head in a circle, from Andos to Califon, his eyes filled with confusion that his two blood relatives were on the other side.

"We are not ready yet," he replied stiffly, "Perturabo, you are giving Lokos a hard time."

Callifon's eyes remained on Perturabo, her skirt swirling like flowers in the breeze.

After hearing Harkon's rejection, she gave her brother a smile lightly and restrainedly: "I just asked my father in advance. Perturabo is wise and sensible. If he has a request, we will satisfy him."

She looked at the tyrant in the distance, and the tyrant nodded to her.

Califon walked past Harkon and spoke to the host in light yellow robes. Andros had already returned to his seat, spread his palms upward, and invited Perturabo to sit down and rest as well.

Perturabo looked into the crowd again, consciously paying attention to the clothes and faces of everyone on the ground. Then he sat down with an upright posture with very little obvious disappointment.

The amplification equipment was in operation again. Following the host's high-pitched speech, people at the scene crowded around, their eyes lit up with excitement, talking about this latest and freshest thing that no one had ever heard of.

Although some fearful people with deep concerns are trying to move themselves out of the range of options, more people are rushing forward, so that the presiding officer has to repeatedly shout the etiquette and commandments of Lokos, and dispatch no one The Guards of the Blade maintain order.

"Would you mind if we changed the number to one per hundred?" Andos asked him. "One out of ten...some are too many."

"Of course I mind." Perturabo said, but he just stared at the crowd and did not rush out to object.

Andos blinked, raised the corners of his mouth, and smiled slightly.

After a long time, a single sentence suddenly came out of the mouth of the boy next to him: "I recognize what a blessing is."

He then pursed his lips tightly, apparently not intending to say another word before the citizens' review began.