Chapter 27 True Victory

Perturabo was in a good mood, very good.

If he didn't want to tell lies to himself, then he couldn't forcefully turn down the corners of his mouth and make a fierce and cold face.

So when Morse climbed onto the high platform, he saw a boy with a calm expression and even a little head-high attitude. Real and not false victory gives him confidence, and confidence makes him tolerant. If there was any unpleasant expression on his face it could only be a hint of dazzling pride.

Perturabo stood upright, which must have made every citizen respect him with solemn respect. He raised his head, and his majesty was reflected in the long straight folds of his robe.

"Citizen, you are the last person to leave a review for these two works." The boy said, "I hope you will not deceive, flatter, be rash, or be careless."

He turned his head and looked at the two works with equal eyes. He paused for a moment on the vivid pattern of the missing petals on the skirt of the goddess statue, and motioned to the young man in blue robe to look at the two statues.

The instrument officer on the side quickly calibrated the radio equipment to ensure that the blue-robed young man's voice could reach everyone's ears.

"I'm a playwright, my lord." Morse's character smiled and spread his hands, the fake skin on the fingertips being calluses from friction.

"I am not a craftsman, nor a craftsman. All my abilities are pinned on a few things that are repeated over and over again. Those identical pieces of paper and charcoal are endlessly replaced, replacing them with exactly the same thing. Destiny. As for me, I often spend my years in my wicker chair, thinking about when my script will be exchanged for food."

"I have a dream that the Olympia Games, which symbolizes peace, will come again on our dear land. Unfortunately, I don't know when that will be."

"That's it, I really don't have the time to think about how beautiful a piece of work is. After all, my knowledge is limited. How can I be proficient in two things in my life? I can't understand which sculpture is better. I'm here today. , but to observe the people associated with the work.”

He constantly observed Perturabo's expression, inferring what kind of emotional boat the boy was drifting in the ocean of thoughts at this time.

He saw that Perturabo was not impatient at all, but instead became more focused and interested.

Despite the slight regret that the child did not see his true identity, Morse was quite satisfied with Perturabo's performance.

The young man in blue robe stepped forward, his left hand behind his back, and the thumb of his right hand rubbed his chin, as if he was thinking about it.

"Can I get a closer look at these two works?" he said.

"As you wish, citizen," Callifon said, her eyes showing quiet reflection.

The young man approached the statue curiously, and he first chose the statue of the goddess Hephonia. After scanning the details of the statue with pure eyes, the young man nodded slightly and asked, "Can I ask, what is the original intention of this work?"

Andros hesitated, and Callifon knew that his brother could not answer at this time.

Princess Lokos said: "This is a gift of blessing, given to the person the creator wants to be friends with."

The young man commented in surprise: "Is it a friendly gesture to the opponent? Then I have a question to tell."

His gaze passed from Andos's face to Perturabo's ice-blue eyes, "Is such a vain blessing more generous, or is an actual victory more generous?"

The boy's eyes were unwavering, and his irises were like the clean frost on the top of a mountain: "False victory is nothing and stingy."

"Then your greatness needs no proof of flattery, Lord Perturabo."

Morse found that it was particularly interesting to call the child "adult" in another identity, and then get a small expression of pride from the boy in return.

So he took the word seriously.

He continued to look at Andos's work and easily judged that the prince still had strength left in him - not that he had any reservations in his skills, but that he still kept his soul in his body. Andos's work has not been stained with the soul and blood of his own sacrifices, and has not burned out his own heart and strength, so it is still within the limits of what mortals can copy and recreate.

Morse had no problem with that. The young man in blue robe said: "The goddess Hefengni is still so noble. I praise her. From her, I seem to see the real mother of human beings. Please let me get close to another work."

"There," said Perturabo, a polite reply which proved that he was in a good mood.

Morse walked up to the two figures.

Putting aside the events alluded to by the subject matter itself, and forgetting that Perturabo always secretly wanted to rebel against him, the work itself is not bad either.

On a technical level, unless one pursues perfection too harshly, there is not much to question and criticize.

After looking around, he also nodded. "I may use paper and pen to record what happened today, so that it can be passed down in historical records from now on, and serve as a shining example for Olympia amidst all the wind and frost. But before that, I have to cast my mind first My pottery."

The officer was about to hand the pen to the young man in blue robe, but at this moment, Perturabo stopped the officer.

The boy asked in confusion: "Why did you only comment on one statue? Are you determined to leave a mark on the pottery of the goddess statue?"

"No, Perturabo," said the young man in blue. "I want to make my choice on this double portrait."

"You are the only one who hesitates to comment on this work, citizen." Perturabo said with doubt in his eyes.

"I have heard a legend, sir." The young man in blue robes drew a stroke on the pottery shard smoothly, and the thin ink mark was like a mark left by a knife blade, cutting a victory for Perturabo in today's competition. "The legend about spiders."

He said so, but did not explain it further. Perturabo raised his eyebrows, and then his attention was attracted by the sweet victory he was about to win.

The ceremonial officer took the pottery shard, put it together with another statistics board, and passed it to the host. The host came to ask whether the victory should be announced. Harkon wanted to ask him to wait, but Kaliphon let the competition end here first.

"Citizens, please wait here for a while." Kaliphon said. "Let the people gathered today hear the result, and they don't have to stand in the hot summer sun for a long time. And your legend, please allow us to talk about it later."

Then the music sounded, and the ceremonial officers lined up. When the winner was announced, the cheers were like thunder and the chariot rolled.

Perturabo calmly accepted the praise from the crowd. This real victory made him feel relieved, although it also made him feel more regretful about Morse's absence.

Harkon smiled and gave him the golden cup for the second time. He proudly drank half a cup of water from the spring of Hephoni. The golden pot was placed diagonally in the palm of the goddess statue, allowing the clear water to flow out of the pot, pouring out a clear waterfall.

Morse grinned at the golden pot, and without saying much, he stayed on the side of the high platform, waiting for the ceremony transformed from the competition to end.

His fingers tapped his arm, and the ice that sealed the stranger with the pot continued to disappear in front of everyone.

When the people on the stage and the audience slowly dispersed, Calliphon went to whisper a few words to the tyrant, so that the middle-aged leader did not have to stay in the sun and continue to challenge the limit of his majesty.

Then, Calliphon nodded gently to Morse.