Warhammer 40: Shattered Steel Soul

Chapter 27 True Victory
Perturabo was in a good mood, very good.

If he didn't want to lie to himself, then he couldn't insist on lowering the corners of his mouth and making a fierce and cold face.

So when Morse stepped onto the high platform, what he saw was a boy with a peaceful expression and even a little bit of an attitude of holding his head high.True and not false victories gave him self-confidence, and self-confidence gave him tolerance.If there is any unpleasant expression on his face, it can only be a little bit of dazzling pride.

Perturabo stood upright, bound to command the awe of every citizen.He raised his head, and his whole body was majestic in the long straight folds of his robe.

"Citizen, you are the last person to comment on two works," said the boy. "I hope you will not lie, flatter, be rash, or be sloppy."

He turned his head, looked at the two works with equal eyes, paused for a moment on the fresh pattern of the goddess statue's skirt, and motioned the young man in blue to look at the two statues without any exception.

The ceremonial officer at the side quickly calibrated the radio equipment to ensure that the voice of the blue-robed youth could reach everyone's ears.

"I'm a playwright, my lord." Morse's character laughs and spreads his hands, his fake-skin fingertips calloused from rubbing.

"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 scripts can be exchanged for food."

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

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

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

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

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

The young man in the blue robe stepped forward, with his left hand behind his back, and the thumb of his right hand rubbed against his chin, looking thoughtful.

"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 Goddess Hefonne.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?"

Andos hesitated, and Callifon knew that his brother could not answer at this moment.

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: "Could it be a friendly gesture to give to the opponent? Then I have a question to ask."

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 are unwavering, and his irises are like the clean frost on the top of a mountain: "False victory is nothing stingy."

"Then your greatness is not proved by flattery or 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 bit the word quite hard.

He continued to watch and savor Andos's works, and easily judged that the prince still had enough power—it wasn't that he deliberately reserved skills, but that he still kept his soul in his body.Andos's works are not stained with the soul and blood of his own sacrifices, nor burnt out of his own heart and strength, so they are still within the limit of mortals' reproducibility.

Morse had no problem with that.The blue-robed youth said: "Goddess Hefonne is still so noble. I praise her, and I seem to see people's real mother from her. Please let me get closer to another work."

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

Morse paces up to the double portrait.

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 today's events, so that they can be passed down in historical records from now on, and serve as a dazzling model for Olympia amidst all the wind and frost. But before that, I have to cast my mind first My potsherds.”

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

The boy asked suspiciously: "Why do you only comment on one statue? Have you decided to leave your mark on the pottery of the goddess?"

"No, Perturabo." The blue-robed youth said. "I'm going 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've heard a legend, my lord." The young man in the blue robe smoothly drew a stroke on the pottery shard, the slender ink marks were like marks left by a knife blade, cutting Perturabo's victory in today's competition. "Legends about spiders."

He said this without further explanation.Perturabo raised an eyebrow, and then his attention was drawn to the sweet victory that was about to come to him.

The official took the pottery piece, put it together with another statistics board, and passed it to the presiding officer.The host came to ask if it was time to announce the victory. Harkon wanted to order him to wait, but Callifon let the competition end here.

"Citizen, please wait here for a moment." Callifon said. "Let the people gathered today hear the result and no longer have to stand in the scorching summer sun. As for your legend, please allow us to talk about it later."

Then the music played, and the officials lined up.When the winner is announced, the applause thunders and the chariots roll.

Perturabo accepted the praise he received from the crowd, and he was pleased with this real victory, although it also made him regret Morse's absence even more.

Harkon smiled and gave him the golden cup for the second time, and he proudly drank half of the water from the spring of Hefonne. waterfall.

Morse looked at the gold-painted clay pot and grinned. Without saying anything, he stayed on the side of the high platform, waiting for the ceremony transformed from the competition to come to an end.

He tapped his fingers on his arm, and the ice sealing the stranger with the clay pot continued to remain invisible in front of everyone.

After the people on and off the stage slowly dispersed, Carliphon went to whisper a few words to the tyrant, so that the middle-aged leader would no longer have to stay under the sun and continue to challenge the limits of his majesty.

Then, Callifon nodded softly to Morse.

(End of this chapter)