Chapter 51: The Regent

"I thought you'd come with the others, but I didn't expect you to arrive alone. Poromo led Zhao Mian on the street of Gondor, they were now on the way to the Consulate, and the pedestrians on both sides of the street looked with curiosity at the warrior who followed his beloved general, although the armor on his body was not as majestic and gorgeous as the guards on the towers, but on the simple color, the vertical and horizontal scars represented honor.

"Because of the urgency of the situation, and because Gandalf was held back by certain circumstances, he had to let me get here first. Zhao Mian took off his helmet, the cold air in the air condensed on his brow, and here, the frost began to melt slowly - he pulled out a towel and wiped his cheek, "I'm sorry, I'm afraid all I brought was bad news." ”

"No, at least your presence here proves that Rohan's battle has stabilized and even won—isn't that good news?" Boromo led Zhao Mian all the way up, and at the same time showed a slight smile to the people around him - this smile is very valuable, not only for Boromo who can still smile at such a moment, but also in such a dark time, such a smile from the top of the official can also bring a lot of confidence to the people.

"I'm afraid that's not good news, Boromo. After Zhao Mian wiped it, he stuffed the towel and helmet into his space bag, and his exposed face did not show a smile from the top to the people like Boromo - he just sighed softly and grabbed Boromo's shoulder, causing him to stop and look at him, "Especially for Gondor, this news is even worse- But I'm afraid this news is not the worst, I need to talk to you, Boromo, and I am afraid that this matter needs the most high-sounding reason and excuse, and an occasion that will never be heard, and above all, it must not be known to your father, can you understand?"

"What do you mean!" Boromo, who can already be said to be extremely handsome from the perspective of human aesthetics, frowned fiercely, he broke free of the force exerted by Zhao Mian on his shoulder, looked at Zhao Mian with a vicious look, and from his clenched teeth, the stiff words were spit out one by one: "Tell me! Who is it? Gandalf Aragorn? Or ...... It's you!"

But the angry Boromo didn't wait for the answer he wanted, Zhao Mian in front of him was still full of joy and anger, as if the words just now were just his own illusion, and around him, the guards who followed didn't seem to hear any other words, but he knew that it was not an illusion, because his shoulder was still aching, and the force exerted on his shoulder was surprisingly large, making him feel extremely heavy power.

"Don't be stunned, take me to the regent, there must be a lot of things he wants to talk to me about. Zhao Mian looked at Boromo in front of him and said, "Moreover, I also have a lot of things I want to talk to him about." ”

Just like the first glimpse of it in the air, the city of Minas Tirith is indeed very beautiful and spectacular - but as you walk through it, another breath slowly lingers in your chest and then gently flows into your heart.

Cities are dying.

This beautiful city is not as glamorous as it seems, its population has been at least half as small as it was in its heyday, and every street is lined with carved buildings and doors with beautiful and strange ancient inscriptions, which must have been the names of the great men who once inhabited the place. But now the buildings are empty and dead silent, no longer with footsteps echoing through the corridors and no more laughter dotting the beautiful gardens.

Finally, they entered the seventh gate, and the warm sun shone on the river below. The guards of this gate are all dressed in black clothes and black armor, and the helmets are very special shapes, with high helmets, cheek guards that fit the side of the face, and white feathers of seabirds on the temples. These helmets shimmer with a silvery glow, as they are all made from Mithril, which has been passed down from ancient times. On the cloak is embroidered with a snow-like tree with a silver crown and stars. This was the family crest of Elendil, and no one in the whole of Gandor was qualified to wear it except for the Praetorian Guards stationed in the Palace of the Holy Spring, where the Holy White Tree once grew.

The news of Zhao Mian's arrival must have spread throughout the city, because the tall dragon was still lying on the grassland outside the city, and it was impossible for such a huge creature not to attract the attention of the locals, so without much inquiry, just a hello, Boromo led Zhao Mian into the top door.

It is not surprising that white stones adorn the place, but in the midst of the palace with white stones as the base, a beautiful fountain dances in the morning light, and a turquoise garden dots it, but in the center, near the pool, stands a dead tree, and the spring water from which it falls sadly back into the pool from its lifeless branches.

Zhao Mian stared at the tree for a moment—because he felt that if he hadn't pulled the tree out of the dirt, the tree would have lived longer. However, just as there is such a thing as bonsai in China, it may also be a special scenery set up by others, so he followed Boromo's pace again and walked towards the palace not far away.

"Alright, I'll lead the way here, and I'll have to deal with the city defenses, and my father doesn't want to see me very much right now. Boromo stopped under the tower, he turned his head to look at Zhao Mian, and nodded at him, and Zhao Mian nodded at him. He strode outside, but when he passed by Zhao Mian's side, a faint voice came into Zhao Mian's ears, "After midnight, I will go to find you." ”

Zhao Mian didn't respond, but stood still, waiting for Boromo's footsteps to fade away from his ears - he didn't wait for the sound to disappear, because the sound of Boromo's armor hitting the ground was not small.

Wordlessly, he walked past the tall, silent gatekeeper into the cool, empty hall of the stone tower, and was greeted by a long passageway, and at the other end of the passage, a metal gate stood there, and the door was made like a mirror, and the mirrored door panel reflected Zhao Mian's clear face—he found that there were still some drops of water on the tips of his hair, but he did not intend to wipe them off.

There were no guards, and Zhao Mian himself stepped forward and knocked on the door. The sound of metal clashing echoed through the empty hallway for a long time, and it probably took that long for someone behind the door to respond.

After the echo disappeared, the door gradually opened, but Zhao Mian keenly noticed that no one was controlling the door. Behind the door is a large hall, which is lit by windows lined with tall stone pillars. The hall also displays many black marble statues with images of various exotic animals and plants, and the roof of the main hall is faintly visible with a dull golden light, interspersed with colorful light. There is no ornamentation or brocade hanging in this solemn hall, nor is there anything made of wood, but between the pillars there are many reliefs carved into cold stone slabs.

At the end of the main hall, on top of the staircase was a tall throne with a canopy carved from marble like a crowned helmet, and on the wall behind it was a large tree in full bloom arranged with precious stones, but the throne was empty. Beneath the throne, on the lowest of the wide staircase, sat a simple black stone chair, on which an old man sat glaring at his knees and holding a scepter with a golden orb at the tip.

Zhao Mian walked towards him without saying a word, and stopped his steps at a distance of three steps, and then bowed slightly to him, "Hello, Lord and Regent of Minas Tirith, Dexer, son of Exilion! ”