Chapter 192: Extra: Apocalypse and the Rack
——Volume 3, Chapter 63: Regicide Chess (Part 1) unfolds——
Makado raised his hand, and his apartment was immediately destroyed Lights come on to illuminate.
Morse's eyes passed over Van Gogh's copy of Sunflowers, swept over the pale and mysterious smile of the woman in black, and smiled at the self-portrait of a man with one ear tightly wrapped in gauze.
On the other wall hung several tattered flags, with faded thunder and bent thunderbolts. He reached out and picked up a corner of the broken lightning flag and smelled the blood stained on the edge of the flag.
"The surface of my body is free of grease and bacteria," the craftsman put down the lightning flag and turned his head. "There is no pollution - and if you hang these things directly in the air, it must not be a problem worth worrying about."
Makado's white hair was scattered in his hood. He sat on a wooden chair, slowly opened a bottle of red wine that had just been taken out of the stasis stand, held the concave groove at the bottom of the bottle and tilted the bottle, and the wine fell into the glass.
“Want a drink?” Makado asked.
Morse took the wine glass and sat down opposite Malcador. The wooden chair made no sound, as if sitting on it was just a light black mist.
"I don't recognize that flag," Morse said, "just like I don't exactly recognize these cards you're playing with. A variation of Tarot?"
"Before the old night, people used these cards for divination." The prime minister said, "They were just gadgets to relieve boredom."
The old man turned over the cards one by one. moon. Martyr. monster. bishop. The Dark King pinned down half of the Emperor's side.
“Their meaning is not absolute.” Makado said. "For example, the moon, in the hives of Western Europe, symbolizes the rise of destiny, and in Antarctica it is related to unexpected sacrifices."
"Where are the martyrs?" Morse asked.
Malcador took back the card of bones tied to the stake into his palm, and the card disappeared into the air.
"Necessary sacrifice." The prime minister replied, looking past the craftsman's ears and falling on the thunder flag behind him.
Morse tapped his fingers on the side of the armrest of the wooden chair and looked at the apartment of the imperial prime minister. This place doesn't look like an inhabited place, but more like a small museum. The incense blends with the floral decorations on the walls, and expensive natural wood is paved on the dark brown floor. In the center is the small square table they use now, which is so small that it can only accommodate two people sitting face to face.
"Is there that painting here?" Morse asked. "A young woman is in the middle of the painting, wearing a skullcap and a long yellow skirt, holding a red, white and blue tricolor flag, leading a group of workers The one where the citizens’ children were fighting?”
“I’ve never heard of it.” The prime minister took a sip of red wine.
"In the second millennium of the empire, in a country called France, the Bourbon dynasty was restored for the second time. On July 26, 1830, the citizens of the French capital revolted and occupied the palace within three days. Charles X Escape from this world.”
Morse closed his eyes and rested his head half on the top of the neck-height backrest of the wooden chair: "During this battle, Clara Lessing first raised the tricolor symbolizing the Republic on the barricade. She was the frame of the painting. The subject.”
“History is a cycle of domination and resistance,” said Macado.
“And we are on the road to dominance?” Morse opened his eyes, put one hand on the middle of the armrest, and raised his head.
Malcador refilled his wine glass: "There are no more than three bottles of this wine in the entire galaxy. You should drink some."
Morse gently put the wine glass back on the table : "You can put it back."
Malcador smiled.
"Nios was nearby when Clara Lessing died," Morse continued, "in fact, he is in that painting."
"As The unknown comrade?"
"No, he was in the Notre Dame de Paris in the background," Morse said. "He was a priest at the time."
"He was in the civil uprising. "Somewhat involved," Makado guessed with certainty. Morse covered his smile with his hand when he recalled, "A three-day uprising that won. They all said they must be crazy before participating in the battle. Those people carried rifles and knives and walked from the street to the street." Rushing out of the alley, like a storm descending from the coast upwards... But they won, although the bloody smell of the dead made the street that was as dirty as a nest even more unsightly, and this god-sent The victory is also disappearing in the cycle of history. What do you think Neos wants, Malcador?”
"What do you think?" The prime minister returned the question to Morse.
Morse shrugged and changed the subject again. "There was a joke in Guterre when France still existed. The country needed women, dwarfs and foreigners to save it. Another woman was more famous than Clara Lessing."
Macado Listening quietly, with deep eyes and fingers hanging above the set of cards.
“Jeanne d’Arc,” said Morse, “was later given the name of a saint. In 1429, Jeanne d’Arc, a shepherd girl from Doremie, ended the invasion of France. The British offensive led the troops to lift the siege of Orleans, and then claimed to have listened to the words of revelation, leading the troops to a series of incredible victories and turning the tide of the entire war."
He paused briefly.
“In 1431, Joan of Arc was tried and accused of heresy. The court asked her whether she had received God’s grace. She said that if she had not received grace, she hoped that God would give it to him; if she had received it, Hope God still favors her. She also mentioned that she had a ring engraved with three crosses and the inscription Jesus Mary." In May of the same year, she was burned at the stake. The priest rushed back to the church to get the golden cross for her. From the moment it was set on fire to the time it turned into bones, she firmly called out the name of Jesus, but there was no response. Then they removed the charcoal, examined the body, and burned it again to prevent anyone from trying. The ashes were collected. The ashes fell in the Seine. "The executioner later said that he was terrified that he had executed a follower of the Revelation with his own hands. "
Malcador did not ask what happened in the two years of this turning point. This is not a question for an imperial prime minister. "What role did Neos play in this story? ”
"I thought it was obvious." Morse's fingers brushed the top of the wine glass, making a series of sliding friction sounds. "He is the voice of revelation, the God who cares for the saint, and the shadow behind the curtain that drives the situation. He makes Joan of Arc believe in him."
"This is..." Macado did not Finished. He took another sip of red wine and pressed his fingers on the side of the wine glass. The temperature was transmitted through the glass to the wine, affecting the taste of this extremely precious bottle of wine.
"I'm being sarcastic," Morse sighed suddenly and took a sip from his wine glass. "I'm being sarcastic again."
He flipped his palm over and tossed out a martyr card. The thin cards slid on the table and fell back into the original pile accurately, falling into the gap under the Emperor card, with only a corner of the flame on the card exposed.
"He himself experienced it once during the hunt for wizards in the Middle Ages." Morse said. "He had a hundred ways to escape, but he didn't. 'Those who deny the existence of demons and witchcraft are heretics ’, he burned himself once in order to publicly refute the words of the Holy See at that time.”
"This is really..." Macado shook his head.
“Put what you have learned into practice.” Morse said, “Now this sentence is also found in Imperial Truth, but one word has been changed.”
He drank the wine in the glass. And then, he once again verified that he didn't like the astringent taste of red wine, then stood up and reached out to Macado.
The prime minister shook hands with him and let go after a few seconds.
“I won’t ask what that thunder flag is.” Morse’s voice was soft and cold, “All mortals are mortal.”
"Revelation can also die for revelation." Malcador murmured, put away the bottle, pulled the hood back over his head, and suddenly paused: "You accompanied him all the way, where do you fit into these stories?"
Morse stretched out his hand to the side, his palm wrapped in black cloth facing up.
A ring fell into the palm of my hand, like gold or copper, small and simple. It is engraved with three crosses and has the inscription Jesus Mary.
"It's a gift for you. You can add it to your collection." Morse threw the ring to Macado and curled his lips. "I'm usually the executioner."
OK, then this long volume is completely over!
The next volume is naturally a certain Robert Guilliman...is it just him? I don’t know yet.
By the way, some small mindsets seem to need to be mentioned. The scythe is not necessarily equal to Mortarion, the snake monster is not necessarily equal to Fulgrim, and the person who sent the brother the cannon is not necessarily the same person. Lion King, the unbreakable wall is not necessarily Dorne...
(End of this chapter)