Black sail

Chapter 453 LXXXVII. Scarlet Scepter (6K)

What goes against common sense is that when a country is heading towards destruction, it is often internally weak and its contradictions cannot be resolved.

But this was not the case in old Aram.

Under the influence of an organization, the old Aram, which was on the verge of collapse, was integrated, and even the last remaining power of this country was displayed. No one could avoid this overly violent and terrifying edge.

Thirty-seven years ago.

Holy Spirit Calendar Year 2653, Old Syria.

Duchy of Fabric (today's southern province).

The sky was dark and rainy, and the river in the sky was flooding. Suddenly, thunder and lightning lit up the entire gloomy jungle. The iron hooves of the armored black horses crushed the dead branches, and the buzzing sound of the army's galloping drove away every frightened bird in the forest.

Marcus, who was in his twenties, received an order. As a sergeant, he led a team to clean up Fort Fabrique from the flank and suppress the murderous gang.

Because of the monarch's stupidity and madness, opposition forces flourished throughout Old Aram.

The secret department, which was originally limited to hunting witches, became the most trusted lackey of the old Aran monarch, and stepped out of the confidentiality agency to the front stage.

The rise of the Witch Hunting Secret Service, the highest violent agency that reports only to the king and has unrestricted power.

At this point in time, there are no more witches to kill.

The goal developed indiscriminately to slaughter everyone, anything that could be killed in the world.

The order Marcus received was to purge everyone here indiscriminately, and his subordinates also monitored him to see whether he was loyal to Ognei, the director of the secret department, and whether he went against his will.

You must obey every regulation in the action program, like a machine, at least in form, and be completely consistent. Otherwise, who will know whether you are secretly following your own will?

Ogné's judgment cannot be questioned.

Once you cross this jungle, you will reach the flat plain where Fort Fabrique is located.

Marcus killed very quickly. The resistance forces hidden in the jungle were more fragile than rotten wood in front of him.

The trap hidden under the lush vegetation, with the touch of horse hooves, the rows of sharp wooden stakes popped out, Marcus led the team in the front and was the first to be attacked.

The black horse was covered in iron armor, but it was also knocked off its horse and man by the impact, neighing non-stop for a while.

Powerful object control magic, wood elemental magic has natural advantages in the jungle.

Stepping on the invisible force field plate, Marcus hovered in the air strangely and cast a spell.

The resistance army came to surround and suppress them, but the thick branches of the trees at the root of the land were twisted into snake-like loops, piercing through their heads, ripped open their bellies and sprayed out the contents, or exploded their heads, sending several skull fragments flying and embedding in the trees.

Marcus is blind and can only sense everything around him through the force field.

All the human silhouettes within the area appeared in Marcus' mind as three-dimensional images.

He could not sense a drop of blood, everything was in black and white, with only an empty and pale force field.

The invisible force sliced ​​through the trees one by one, and the collapsed jungle revealed the remaining enemies.

The members of his secret department killed and executed the remaining soldiers one by one. Marcus swung his sword, and the twisting wood chips and spiral sword wind blew the last few enemies into a pool of meat.

All the bright red was quickly diluted in the dark forest. These resistance fighters were dressed in rags and seemed to be just tenant farmers who were forcibly gathered because they were in debt.

The members of the Secret Service fear Marcus' power.

Since the Secret Service is not a military unit and does not have corresponding military ranks, after taking office, apart from clerical agencies such as the Supervisory Commission and internal secret guards, there are only soldiers and sergeants in external violent agencies.

It also means that every Chief Sergeant is one in a million.

As long as the Supervisory Committee does not discover any abnormal thoughts, the sergeants only need to report their work to Deputy Chief Zote and do not need to report to anyone in the royal court.

Marcus ordered his soldiers to re-equip their horses and march straight into Fort Fabric.

This was a major battle.

After this battle, the opposition forces in the south formed by the alliance of sorcerers, scholars and nobles will be completely eliminated, and the prosperity of the Aram Kingdom will be continued.

Marcus had studied at the Arcane Academy before, and as the southern base camp of the opposition comprised of warlock scholars, he had no doubt he might run into some familiar faces.

But it doesn't matter.

He has made up his mind and there is no turning back. Even if it is wrong, he has to carry it out.

The iron hooves roared, tearing through the rain curtain, crossing the deep and dense forest and coming to the open wilderness.

The air was filled with heat and the magnificent Fabrique Castle was burning with flames.

The field spread out.

Marcus felt nothing, but strangely felt the burning heat in the rain, and asked his subordinates about the situation.

This was a large-scale battle, led personally by Zote, the deputy chief of the Secret Service.

"Sir, Lord Zote, we have captured the castle, and the royal flag has been planted at the gate. The suppression of the southern opposition has been completed. What remains is purge and mop-up."

His subordinates answered mechanically, their sunken eyes devoid of any emotion. The raging fire was reflected in his eyes, and one tortured fire man after another jumped off the city wall.

Marcus ordered his troops to march into the city, his iron hooves crushing the charred corpses on the ground, turning them into bright red rotten soil. Next, he would report to Zote, the highest person in charge of this operation.

Being blind, everything was blurry to Marcus, just concepts captured by the force field and textual information entering his brain.

There were many sergeants gathered in Fabric Castle, and Marcus was the last one to arrive. There was no greeting between his colleagues, only indifference and hidden hostility.

He was the only one who had not reported to Zote.

After learning of Zote's location, Marcus ordered his men to stay where they were and wait for him to return.

In an airtight stone chamber, candles provided lighting. The warm candlelight shone on the blood-stained torture instruments on the wooden table. They were all very basic tools, tweezers, pliers, and a knife.

This was the first time in Marcus' life that he saw Zote.

Zote had his back to Marcus. He was tall and wore an ordinary black uniform of the Secret Service. He had thick black hair and was not an old man.

Since he was interrogating him, Marcus wisely did not disturb him. He just stood at the half-open door and waited for it to end.

The chief leader of the southern opposition, Duke Fabrice, was the subject of this torture.

Duke Fabrice was no longer as glorious as he used to be. He was shamefully tied to the execution platform naked. The curved execution platform could bend and stretch, thus breaking a person's spine.

Completely to Marcus's surprise, Zote was not asking about his accomplices, but was asking some irrelevant questions.

"You're a slow learner, Fabrice. What's three plus three?"

Zote asked some boring arithmetic questions.

"It's seven..."

Fabrice weakly said the standard answer that Zote had given him.

But Zoth was not satisfied and continued to pull the joystick, causing the execution platform to bend even more.

Marcus could hear the crisp sound of the large bones in the spine breaking, but Fabrik did not scream at the top of his lungs, only intermittent breathing sounds.

“Sometimes it’s seven, sometimes it’s six, some days it can be any number.”

While Zote was speaking, he noticed Marcus standing beside him and waved his hand to ask him to come over.

Marcus did not dare to be negligent and stood beside Zote respectfully.

"Sir."

Marcus spoke out of minimum respect and did not call him deputy chief. No one liked the word "deputy", even though he was the second in command of this extremely powerful organization.

"What's wrong with your eyes and your chin?"

"During a crackdown on pagans, I was caught by a cult member. Thanks to the doctor at the Secret Service, I was given a second chance at life."

"Cult members? A painful miracle?"

"Yes."

"Huh? I think I've heard of you, a magic swordsman who uses force fields to sense things. In this case, going blind isn't a big deal."

Zoth was very interested. The battle was over. He had instructed other sergeants to stand by and later all the captured warlocks and scholars would be executed. There was nothing important now.

He gave up his place.

"You come and interrogate him. To be honest, I don't know how to interrogate him. You are better than me."

Zote ordered, pressing Marcus onto the stool and motioning him to pull the lever, which would cause the execution platform to bend and deform. If he pulled it three more times, Fabrice's spine would be completely broken.

"What do you want to ask?"

Marcus had never tortured anyone, he always let his subordinates do it, and Zote's orders made him feel very uncomfortable.

But in fact, Fabrique had already told everything he knew.

Zote was just being sadistic.

Fabrique felt very cold, and could not help shivering, his teeth were chattering, and tears were streaming down his face. For a moment, he wanted to reach out and grab Zote like a child.

He had a feeling that Zoth was his protector. All the pain came from outside, from somewhere else, and only Zoth could protect him from this pain.

"It doesn't matter what you do. The most important thing is to consolidate the power of the Secret Service."

"Sir, I really don't know what to do."

"I've heard your name, which means that even among all the sergeants, your performance is very outstanding. You are a very important contributor to the development of the Secret Service. The organization is now unrivaled. You... Marcus, in the royal court, except for the current monarch, your power is greater than everyone else. Especially after the victory in the southern campaign, you went to the palace with your sword and shoes and killed the powerful minister. The monarch will not blame you."

Zote put his powerful hand on Marcus' shoulder. Yes, the Witch Hunting Secret Office has already undermined the royal power, and Ognei is the most powerful person in Alan.

This power must be consolidated, from the outside and from the inside, deep into everyone's mind.

"If it's your order, sir, I'll do it."

Marcus answered.

He answered without hesitation that opposing the witch-hunting secret service's suppression campaign would be considered treason and his family would be executed.

And Zote was very satisfied with Marcus' answer.

"The southern opposition wanted to abolish the monarchy. Fabrique pretended, and perhaps really believed, that they had not taken power voluntarily, that they would only hold power for a limited period of time, and that it would not be long before a paradise would appear where everyone would be free and equal.

We don’t do that. We know that no one who seizes power intends to give it up.

Power is the purpose, not the means. The purpose of persecution is to persecute, the purpose of torture is to torture, and the purpose of power is power. Do you understand what I am saying now? "

Zote looked at Fabrik and made Fabrik feel the power, which was far more effective than simply executing Fabrik.

He was tall and stood in front of the candlelight, completely blocking out the light in front of him and shrouding Marcus in darkness.

Marcus, who is blind, does not need light to see.

"I understand."

"Very good, now you have to show him your power. Obedience alone is not enough. If you don't make them suffer, how can you know that they are secretly obeying themselves and opposing you? Power should bring pain and humiliation, tearing the thoughts in people's heads to pieces and then piecing them together into a new shape according to your own ideas."

Zote asked Marcus to take action.

Marcus did not hesitate for too long and pulled the lever. The execution platform made a sharp and piercing sound of mechanical friction and arched up again in a violent arc. Fabrique had lost the ability to scream, and his body was twisted horribly, like a bow being squeezed, and could only make the bending sound imposed by the bow holder.

"You are in charge of everything now. This is a truth that goes against common sense. All scholars have their own reasons for hiding things. They tell people that rights correspond to obligations. Aren't they really annoying and harmful? Let's end this, man, and then we can go out and kill those bastards who fooled the people."

Zote called Marcus "brother", patted him on the shoulder, and left the interrogation room first.

Now, Marcus became Fabrique's patron saint.

"Don't blame me. If you want to blame someone, blame... this world."

Marcus did not dare to disobey Zote's order and pulled the joystick twice in succession. The execution platform was stretched to the highest arc, not only breaking Duke Fabrice's spine, but also splitting him in half alive by the arched support. Compared with being beheaded, it was a large tear with uneven force, and the contents sprayed all over the ground.

All he felt was the force field and the warm liquid on his face, and then he left the stone chamber without looking back.

In the Fabricburg.

All members of the Secret Department received instructions. Except for the craftsmen and pregnant women, all of them were executed. Repeated purges have caused the people's livelihood in Alan, which was once a populous country, to decline. This is not a good sign.

To demonstrate power.

Members of the Secret Service poured kerosene on the targets one by one, set them on fire, and let them jump off the tower and commit suicide in agony.

It is said that being burned to death is the most painful way to die, but since the dead cannot speak, there is no way to verify this.

As for the main members of the southern opposition, killing them would be a great honor and would be executed by the hands of the sergeants themselves.

On the dark platform at the edge of the castle, dozens of court sorcerers and great scholars who once had the power to enter and leave the royal court were tied up tightly with hemp ropes, with shackles on their feet. They stood in a row on the edge. One step back would lead to a hundred-meter abyss.

The sergeants who participated in the battle, including Marcus, were also gathered together.

In the rainy night.

Zote took out a crumpled royal court document from his arms and was about to speak in official language, saying that these people were found guilty of treason and would be executed according to the law.

But the rain was so heavy that the words on the paper could no longer be seen, and torches were of no help.

Zote couldn't read from the script, so he had to organize his words freely and trampled the royal court documents under his feet like discarding waste paper.

"I also want to spare you. After all, everyone present here is a talented person. Every loss of such a talent is a huge regret for Alan.

But I have to do this. In times of national crisis, with wolves all around us, we must stabilize the country and resist foreign aggression."

But as he was talking, Zote was amused by his own words and changed his attitude, "You are in trouble. This is a massacre. Let's start, sergeants, show me your methods."

These scholars and sorcerers were extremely tough, and none of them knelt down and begged for mercy because they were in desperate situations.

All the sergeants were also quite skillful. They cut their throats with the daggers in their hands and then kicked them off the platform, smashing them to pieces.

Marcus couldn't see anything. He walked forward a distance, picked up an unlucky guy at random, and kicked him off the platform with a sharp knife, completing the task assigned by Zote.

"Marcus...is that you?"

Another prisoner spotted the drastically changed Marcus in the crowd and asked in disbelief.

A sergeant was about to execute him.

At this time, the only person left at the edge of the platform was the octogenarian who had just called Marcus.

Although Marcus could only perceive a vague face through the force field, the voice was extremely familiar.

He once studied arcane arts in the Arcane Academy, and the old man was one of his mentors.

But Marcus just froze where he was, not daring to reply, or even make the slightest noise. Being in a high-pressure environment for a long time made him sense something.

But Zote had sharp ears and reached out to stop the sergeant who was about to execute the prisoner.

"You know him?"

Zote called Marcus, for whom he had some respect.

"Yes, sir. He was my former instructor at the Arcane Academy."

Marcus replied with a slightly trembling voice.

"I see. It seems unreasonable and immoral to let students kill their teachers."

Zote said so.

Even though Marcus had long been numb in this abyss-like whirlpool, he was still relieved, as long as it was not handed over to him.

The octogenarian did not use this relationship to beg for mercy, and there was despair in his smile.

The rumble of thunder continued and heavy rain poured down.

"But you should kill him.

Morality is essentially selfish. It is a convention created by everyone who wants to gain benefits for themselves.

To determine whether something is moral, we need to see whether it will have an impact on this huge interest group if everyone in the world is doing it.

This kind of thing is like a rotten woman who has been fucked by countless people. It is better not to have it.

Marcus, we are the people who stand at the pinnacle of power, we are noble, kill him."

Zote ordered calmly.

The other sergeants also stood still, looking at Marcus with a playful desire, wanting to see what choice Marcus would make, so as to make up for some of their own shortcomings.

Marcus froze in place.

He had to carry out this order, just as in the end, everyone...had to die.

He couldn't refuse.

This is Zoth's power.

His spirit was like a dangerous building. Even though it was not a task that required any physical effort, when he picked up the sword, it was as if he was holding something extremely heavy. His hands shook constantly.

His teacher just looked at Marcus calmly without saying anything.

Marcus prayed in his heart, he hoped someone would come to save him and pull him out of this quagmire of despair, oh my God!
Finally, Marcus walked up to his former mentor, his mind going blank in extreme fear.

He swung his sword too slowly.

"This is not what you wanted, Marcus. This is not what you wanted."

After the old man finished speaking, without waiting for Marcus to take action, he took a step back and jumped down. He fell to pieces and merged with the burning corpses on the ground.

It was raining heavily.

Marcus fell to his knees helplessly.

at last……

He was completely defeated by this abyss.

As it is now.

Thirty-seven years later.

A church in the capital of Alan.

The rumor was true. It was Zote, who had been on the run for eleven years, who returned to Aran, joined Marcus, and solved the mess in the imperial capital's industrial zone.

With overwhelming force, they destroyed all the royal court forces in the industrial zone and kidnapped Akasa's confidant Lagrande, using him as hostage, and finally forced the royal court to make concessions.

Both sides made concessions.

The sect will no longer interfere in any affairs of the industrial zone, but the price is that the sect will participate in the "Advance Movement".

The royal court won face, and the sect won substance.

The recently formed 18th Squadron of the Sword of Time is led by Zoth, the former deputy chief of the Witch Hunting Secrets Department. He is protected by the Eternal Cult, and he will advance all the way, even setting up the Dragon Lord's Church to the east of the Narrow Sea to preach. After this is accomplished.

Zote will...

return……

The pinnacle of power,

Nightmares spanning decades flooded into Marcus' mind like a tide, dragging him into the largest and strongest abyss in eternity.

It seemed that due to this fear, the Dragon Lord's grace was lost a little, and Marcus, who had returned to youth, began to have white hair.

"I should have killed him. I should have killed him."

Marcus just sat slumped under the stained glass, carving the stone with force fields, the statue of the Dragon Lord, for several days and nights.

I should have killed Zoth the first moment I saw him.

But I just can't do it.

Own……

Is a coward.

"Master Priest..."

Sharon had never seen anyone so desperate.

And at this moment.

The train station in Yalan Empire.

The scenery of early summer is beautiful, with cloudless and clear blue sky.

The Eternal Sect now has its own train. This train, engraved with the Dragon Lord's emblem, will run along this railway, carrying the eighteen formations of the Sword of Time directly to the forefront of the railway construction.

Zote, wearing a dragon-masked helmet, asked his deputy in this operation.

"Can't these people talk? Or what?"

Zote was new here and didn't understand many of the sect's rules. Behind him was a large group of Swords of Time. These crazy people made him feel uncomfortable and out of his control.

"Some believers cut off their tongues when they were young, and swore to obey the Dragon Lord's will for the rest of their lives. Words...are no longer necessary."

The deputy said so.

Zote was a little stunned.

God.

Things that he once scoffed at, now felt somewhat real.

Zoth truly felt the boundless power and the endless pain inflicted.

“It’s really… the supreme power.”

Zote said nothing more and boarded the train to the Principality of Mulong.

(End of this chapter)