Chapter 55 Snow on Mount Telefus (Part 2)
Morse suddenly bounced off the bronze bell of the clock tower against which he was leaning. There was no pause of more than a thousandth of a second before he was immediately pulled out of the air. A piece of pure white paper was slapped on the surface of the clock.
He flipped his right hand to create a quill, and he no longer cared about any rhetorical techniques or dramatic expressions and began to write faster on the spot.
"Perturabo, you have grown and matured, and there is no companion in the world who cannot be separated. Simply put, never see me again, don't expect to find me again..."
Next moment , the sound of powder peeling off the edge of the wall tiles made by the addressee came from the other side of the huge copper bell.
Perturabo used astonishing lightness to hang his three-meter-high body outside the clock tower. The only reason why he did not come in was that even if he curled up, the huge clock still did not have enough room for him. Too much.
"You are indeed here, Morse." Perturabo was lying on the edge of the bell tower platform, with the characteristic large laurel ring used for decoration hanging neatly on his forehead. The young giant waved slightly: "Everyone, the banquet has begun... What are you writing?"
Morse twisted the paper into a ball and threw it into the air, and the paper ball was automatically broken down into dust.
"It won't matter now that you're here. I think you've grown up, so it's time to say goodbye - do you have to lie on the wall for everyone to see?"
Perturabo broke off a piece of the relief on the edge of the bell tower under the sudden impact of the catastrophic announcement.
He grabbed the broken stone and put it back into the bell tower to avoid falling objects. His eyebrows immediately tightened: "This is a closed area in the palace, and everyone in the palace is celebrating the new ruler's accession to the throne in the Grand Theater... Don't disappear! I haven't finished speaking yet!"
Before he finished speaking, Morse's new body fell to the floor.
Perturabo immediately pulled on the body and found that the entire weight of this empty shell, which could be called a poor quality product, was only on one layer of skin, and that all invisible external parts had no substance at all. As soon as he pulled on the body The rest of his hand fell limply like a deflated doll.
This reminded him briefly of the model he saw on Morse's table last time. The front looked the same except that it was unfinished, but the large hole on the back used to save material was not even connected. No cover was added. Morse also mocked him seriously at the time, saying that this was to facilitate the calculation of shrinkage and ensure the degree of combination when the model material cooled.
He put away his distracting thoughts, carried the body with only one layer of skin left, and returned to the ground briskly, looking around, anxiously praying that Morse hadn't really left yet.
Why was Morse suddenly in a hurry to leave? Did he accidentally do something wrong today?
Or did someone say something to Morse?
Don’t let him know who it is!
“Do you really think I’m too big?” Perturabo held the body in one hand and strode through the abandoned second half of the palace. "I also think so. Any daily necessities in Olympia are no longer suitable for my height. On the first day after returning from the attack on Chaldis, they had to report with fear that I might have to lie on the floor to sleep."
The reconstruction work of the palace is still in progress, with the front hall and main hall being completed first, while the garden and clock tower at the rear are temporarily arranged in the second half of the list of things.
During the celebration, all non-essential construction has been suspended, and the place is empty for the time being. Only the breeze blows, making the black robe hanging on Morse's body flutter.
"Why are you leaving? It can't be just because of my adulthood."
Perturabo quickly thought about the possible whereabouts of Morse, and his intuition told him that Morse He won't just leave like this, although this may be just wishful thinking provided to him by the brain center.
He had always known that Morse had a private storage room because Morse's objects in Lokos Capital's workshop were constantly being rotated. Now that he's leaving, maybe he'll take some of the unfinished craftsmanship he needs with him.
Perturabo quickly cut off a large piece of iron-gray cloth covering the construction building next to it with a saber, quickly folded and packed the body of Morse, and then walked quickly, then Change to trot.
The streets he had walked countless times in the past ten years supported him as he ran.
After leaving the Royal Palace of Lokos, there were more pedestrians passing by on the street. Perturabo knew that everyone was watching his actions with silent amazement, but he had no time to think too much. The only thing he could do was to avoid it with inhuman reaction speed before almost hitting a passerby coming from the corner.
"Morse." He whispered to himself, the wind blowing from both sides carrying his words away.
The familiar workshop was already in front of him. He stopped at the door. The wooden door was not locked or even closed as usual. The door panel was shaking slightly. It was not known whether Morse had arrived before him or whether it was Morse who had arrived before him. The wind pressure he brought pushed the door open.
After a moment of timidity, Perturabo opened the door, lowered his body, and carefully squeezed in. The pile of things was so full that visitors could have the illusion that the place was all-encompassing.
He didn't dare to go any further, because with his current size, if he took one more step, countless shelves would collapse like a series of dominoes.
"Are you here?" he asked, trying to detect possible abnormalities in the subtle wind noise.
His keen eyesight quickly caught an old small stone sculpture of two people in the center of the shelf in the room. The vague and weird image was confusing, and one could only barely tell that it was a child having sex with his elders. fight.
He always thought Morse had thrown it away. This made his heart skip a beat.
Perturabo gritted his teeth and raised his voice: "Morse! I am determined to re-carve this original stone statue. You know that I never really completed it. Since you are going to give me a gift, then you also need to Accept my reward."
He paused, suddenly feeling bitterness rising in his throat. "You said, I want to learn fairness."
+I also said that gifts are not included in the transaction system, Perturabo. +
A soft voice came directly into his hearing. He didn't know if this meant that Morse was far away from here, but he clearly understood that this was probably the last opportunity for communication.
Perturabo's frown unfurled, and his muscles relaxed together.
"You did say that, Morse. So my reward is not a gift, it is a weight, a piece of goods, a price. I will use it to buy your stay."
A long while The silence lasted so long that Perturabo began to wonder whether his behavior was a whimsical absurdity. His fingers were stiff and curled between making a fist and relaxing, and more distracting thoughts flew through his mind.
He didn’t understand why everything suddenly changed. Today should not be the moment to say goodbye.
Who wants Morse to leave?
Then, he saw the small rough stone statue floating up and landing in a transparent palm that gradually appeared and glowed with light gold.
The black coarse cloth covered the ethereal form and appeared deep in the workshop. From the change of the runes on his head, he knew that Morse was looking at him.
+You have learned well, Perturabo. + Nothingness said, with emotion and anger difficult to distinguish in his tone, + As an apprentice, maybe it’s time for you to become a master. +
“I still have unfinished work,” said Perturabo. "Taking a apprenticeship at this time will only prove that the apprentice you trained is not qualified."
There was another long silence, but the golden figure did not leave. Then silence becomes tolerance, and depression becomes gentleness.
When Morse spoke again, his words were no longer vague. The rough little stone statue turned in his hands, foreshadowing the sharp irony that Perturabo knew so well.
"You are indeed unqualified, Perturabo. There is one thing that you have not noticed along the way. Has the otherworldly perception ability given to you by your creator failed? Or is your creator inherently poor in skills?"
“Ah, what’s the matter?”
“Your package.” Morse said, “How did you pack it? Look down!”
Petula Blog Yan immediately lowered his head.
Because he came in too hasty, the cloth he pulled casually was forced to travel at high speed, proving that the textile machine could not create an unbreakable iron plate, even if the dye was chosen to be the color of steel.
At this time, the package had been damaged by an unknown hook, and the bottom was cracked. Half of the black robe fell outside the iron-gray cloth, fluttering in the wind, hinting to every passerby that there was something unthinkable hidden in the package. Mystery.
Perturabo immediately rewrapped Morse's body. His proud brain was screaming, and he instantly had a deeper understanding of the surprised looks of passers-by.
And Morse's voice still echoes in the workshop.
"...Someone is going to ask you how you make a realistic foldable doll, my apprentice..."
"Okay, I know!" Pettu Rab said, "So are you still leaving?"
Morse smacked his lips slightly, his tone in a daze. "It's too late, what a misfortune."
Out the window, a beam of golden light pierced the atmosphere of Olympia and landed vertically on the top of the eternal snow-capped mountains of Telefus, like a burning star, silent and majestic, incredible. The land is far away yet close, waiting for pilgrims to visit.
(End of this chapter)