Chapter 27 True Victory
Perturabo is in a good mood, very good.
If he didn't want to tell lies to himself, then he couldn't forcefully lower 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-striking 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 stands upright, which is bound to make 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 tilted his head and said Gazing at the two works equally, 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 voice of the young man in blue could reach everyone's ears.
“I am a playwright, my lord.” The character played by Morse smiled and spread his hands, the fake skin on the fingertips being calluses from friction.
“I am not a craftsman or a craftsman. All my abilities are pinned on a few things that are repeated over and over again. Those identical papers and charcoal are endlessly replaced. , replaced by the exact same fate. 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 heart to think about it. How beautiful is a work itself? After all, my knowledge is limited. How can I be proficient in two things in my life? I don’t understand which sculpture is better. Instead, I came here to observe the work related to it. People."
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 tiny 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 thought.
The young man approached the statue curiously. 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 creating this work?"
Andos hesitated, but Carrie Feng Shen 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 meant to be given to the opponent? Then I have a question to tell."
His eyes passed over Andos's face and stopped on Perturabo's ice-blue eyes, "Such a vain blessing is more generous. Or is actual victory more generous? "
The boy's eyes were unwavering, his irises were like the clean frost on the top of a mountain: "False victory is nothing and stingy."
"Then yours. Greatness requires 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 deliberately reserved 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 energy, 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 people's true mother. Please let me get close to another work."
Petu Rab said: "There." He responded politely, which proved that he was in a good mood.
Morse walked up to the two figures.
Disregarding 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 or 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 in all the wind and frost. But before that, I have to vote My pottery.”
The ceremonial officer was about to hand the pen to the young man in blue robe, but at this moment, Perturabo stopped the ceremonial officer.
The boy asked doubtfully: "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 robe. "I will make my choice in this double portrait."
"You are the only one who hesitates to comment on this work, citizen." Perturabo's eyes flashed with doubt.
"I have heard a legend, my lord." The young man in blue robe smoothly drew a stroke on the pottery piece. The long and thin ink marks were like the marks left by the blade, cutting out a piece of Perturabo's competition today. Victory. "The legend 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 the victory should be declared. Harkon wanted to wait, but Callifon let the competition end before that.
"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 for a long time. As for your legend, please allow us to talk about it later."
Then the music played and the officials lined up. . When the winner was announced, the cheers thundered to the ground and the chariots rolled.
Perturabo accepted the praises of the crowd calmly. He was satisfied with this real victory, although it also made him regret Morse's absence even more.
Harkon smiled and gave him a golden cup for the second time. He proudly drank half a cup of water from the Fountain of Hephonia. The golden jar was placed diagonally in the palm of the goddess statue, allowing the clear water to flow out of the jar. Pour clear water 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.
His fingers tapped on his arm, and the ice sealing the stranger with the clay pot continued to remain invisible in front of everyone.
When the people in the audience and on the stage slowly dispersed, Callifon went to whisper a few words to the tyrant, so that the middle-aged leader no longer had to stay in the sun and continue to challenge him. The limit of majesty.
Then, Callifon nodded softly to Morse.
(End of this chapter)