Chapter 53 Snow on Mount Telefus (Part 1)
“It’s not that I can’t get used to a ceremony.” He said, “On the contrary, I’m so used to it that I feel bored.”
"And I invited you." said the visitor.
"You did a great thing and provided me with a great excuse to get away from the hustle and bustle. But I am curious how you found me."
"豼豼The presence is striking, unlike any creature in Olympia.”
"Although the existence of any two creatures has reached different conditions, I can understand your semantics."
The man wearing black cloth walked into the cave with crystal-embedded walls. Sit on the rock as a seat.
He pulled back the rag that served as a temporary hood. In the exposed void, there are golden runes that are uncertain in their civilization and extinction, echoing the flickering of crystals on the stone wall.
The young man in golden robes placed the long staff beside the stone bench, glanced at the human figure composed of runes, and then looked away. The laurel ring surrounding the silver hair thus reflects a swaying light.
There is a low table between the two of them, with a small amount of dust falling from the top of the cave falling on the edge of the table, and the tabletop shows a level of cleanliness that has been used recently.
The cards are scattered in the corners of the table, overlapping and accumulating. The patterns on the backs of the cards cover each other. Recognizable images include some collapsed towers, falling lightning, dead fighters and other images.
As for the center of the table, there is room for some simple meals: a glass of wine and some fermented bread.
The man wearing black cloth stretched out his left hand, picked up the wine glass, stared at it for a moment, and then took a sip. The wine disappears into nothingness.
"This is a valuable hospitality." He said, "And I guess he didn't tell you enough information. For example, I am not a believer. How should I call you?"
"Palmprint If you agree." The young man in gold robe said solemnly.
"Then you can call my name."
"Morse?"
"Morse." The transparent nothingness is gradually covered with a layer of light color, Morse Take on his form. "It sounds like you heard who I am from the Olympians."
"The voices of the crowd were clear enough during the crowning ceremony, although they seemed doubtful of your appearance."
"If they accidentally find the body I left behind when I came here by chance in the clock tower, there will be more questions."
"Will they?"
"It's a pity that they will subconsciously ignore the clock tower."
The imprinter no longer takes his eyes off Morse, his inspection is hidden in Behind the unchanging expression, there is an unconcealable curiosity.
"Your Majesty told me that you are a trustworthy person, an old friend." said the bearer.
"Your Majesty?" Morse repeated softly, "He became emperor again. Did he ask you to come to me?"
"Relying on the torch you lit as a guide, we are rushing to Olympia. The Emperor has ordered to speed up."
"Then before he arrives, we might as well talk about some light topics. Don't let the atmosphere seem frozen. As serious as red wax." Morse put down his wine glass and turned over the cards on the table. "There seems to be something wrong with this card."
"There are four kings in it. We can reprint a deck of cards."
"It's okay, can you play black jack?" Morse asked .
“Yes.”
"There is no dealer, just play as you like."
Morse gathered the cards on the table with one hand, the runes jumped, and the cards automatically began to jump and shuffle. "Do you like playing cards, Palm Palmer?"
"Your Majesty and I have discussed the card game of Guterra, and I am not good at it." Palm Palmer said humbly.
"It's hard to imagine that a psyker as good as you is not good at simple card tricks." "But my opponent often draws the same color from Ace to King."
Morse smiled. "Then it's not your fault - I take one first, seven. Next, three. Stand."
"You're almost letting me win," said the palmer, "eight. Three, six."
"When did you meet him?" Morse clicked on the table and marked a vertical line on the scoreboard that appeared out of thin air.
“Not long ago.” The person holding the seal said, “Thousands of years, maybe.”
“He has been the emperor for thousands of years? Nine, four, eight. I get one point. ”
The palmer looked at the cards on the table and began to draw them. "It doesn't take thousands of years to win the Unification War. Four, five, seven, three, suspension."
Morse nodded, "Very sharp. Then I will also call him the Emperor, unless he is using He has a more humane name?”
“Not yet,” said the palmer.
"Nine, seven, eight. Boom - you get one more point, Palmist. You're a good guy."
"Just luck, that doesn't prove anything."
"Your integrity in card games is your strength. Your patience in assisting the Emperor is amazing." Morse said, "I believe you are indispensable to him. What is your responsibility?"< br>
The person holding the seal remains still for a moment and stops taking the cards. "Nine, nine, five, you also get a point. I am his prime minister now."
Morse's hand shook and he almost let the cards fall from his fingers.
"You are a true warrior, Sealbearer. I have developed real admiration for you."
Sealmaster did not refuse and accepted Morse's praise calmly.
He smiled tiredly. "What about you?"
"I might be better at doing odd jobs." Morse said, turning his head and looking outside the cave.
The outside world of this illusory land is a vast sea of golden light, with countless mantras far and near, flowing and shining, scorching and dazzling.
The power of the dark power is firmly blocked. As long as Morse does not leave for one day, he is sure to permanently fix the curtain blocking the vast ocean. Even if he leaves this place, the curse mark left behind can still protect thousands of creatures in Olympia for a long time.
His stay here was neither long nor short. The journey from Terra on a merchant ship took up a long time in the endless journey. Later, as the subspace storm raged across the galactic stars, he His footsteps stopped at a planet he was most familiar with.
Over the course of thousands of years, Olympia's civilization rose and fell several times. The spiral of history repeatedly rose and fell back, and the pace of retreat was much faster than the rise.
He watched all this from anywhere, in the mountains and forests, in the city, and on the battlefield. It rains, the wind blows, things get moldy and rotten, new sprouts are found on some olive trees. He passed through these places and most of the time he didn't even bother to make any historical records.
Sometimes he knows that such an attitude is harmful to him, but he doesn't care. The flourishing civilization turned into decay in his eyes, and all he could hold on to was boredom.
For thousands of years, he encountered endless failures and setbacks every time he picked up a carving tool. The moment he picked up his pen, he often knew that he would not be able to put enough emotion into odes and epic poems. within. And he was not a quitter before.
But now it's all coming to an end. Morse thought. Calliphon's crowning would be the last ovation he would receive.
No matter who he follows or continues to walk alone, he will not stay.
The curse he has placed recently may be the only living expenses he will leave to Olympia.
“But sometimes I feel like coming to Olympia is the rare right decision in my life.” Morse said. "Eight, seven. Suspension."
"Because of Perturabo?" asked the palmer.
Update today, busy
(End of this chapter)