July.

Summer.

The outskirts of the royal capital are covered with golden flowers.

In the center of the flower sits a man in black armor.

The man was tall, his body was like a giant, and the solid armor grinded the ground over and over again.

Milling, rotating, coiling, and muddy.

Half a year after the rebellion.

The situation did not turn out as the man had expected, or rather, it had been what he had expected.

His friend is gone.

Just such a point has completely destroyed all the foundations and starting points.

Already.. It doesn't matter anyway.

No matter what happens, it is meaningless, everything you do becomes pale, powerless, and loses color.

At this moment, the more I look back on the past, the more I can feel this sense of powerlessness.

Himself escaped from there.

From hometown.

Leave her there.

In twenty years, I never went back.

What am I afraid of?

Probably.. It's a cognitive bias about the unfamiliar self, right?

I don't want her to see herself like this.

I don't want what I believed in to be overthrown—overthrown by my own bloody hands.

Or don't want to see her change?

It was in the savage countryside.

Ten years, who knows what people will become.

A man who knows human nature well does not dare to guarantee that he will not make any radical moves.

Of course, none of this is true.

Because.

My friend died.

Died a long time ago.

Die of your own weakness.

Golden flowers are in full bloom.

It blooms in the countryside, untended wilderness.

Maybe.. She wanted wildflowers like this, not the colors of the Imperial Capital flower shop.

That's it.

Why didn't you ask clearly?

Such flowers can be found even in the wilderness in the countryside.

The heavy black armor grinded the dirt into sand little by little, pasting it together.

The new king sat in the dirt.

Like a lone animal that resembles a crow.

The shadow is attached to the visor.

Wriggle.

Twist.

Something in his body burned like pain.

He didn't know what it was.

The strange thing is that such a wonderful thing makes his body and mind empty, and human emotions are lost little by little.

Is it something unseen sucking my grief?

Let it continue.

A strange smile appeared at the corner of the man's mouth.

At the very least, the pain lessens and slows down the real grief.

The man had the strength to stand up again.

Human feelings are a very delicate thing.

People are more inclined to the obsession itself than to the specific thing that the obsession points to.

own emotions themselves.

It was called the tomb of desire.

Woes are often based on sudden danger.

And Zhiyong is mostly trapped in drowning.

- "The Flail of Desire: Chapter 1, Section 2"

The power of the untouchables is converging, and their voices linger in the skies above the Imperial City.

The tremendous power resounded through the sky.

That great anger was like facing one's lifelong enemy.

"Damned evil usurpers," they —— call their new monarch.

No, he's not going to be anytime soon.

The new king gave back to the commoners the right to obtain iron and cast utensils.

Originally, the basis of the rebellion did not exist.

Only a limited number of people in power have access to metal in this country.

They issue currency, produce agricultural implements and weapons.

Yes, the original kingdom was full of brutal repression and irrationality, but there was no iron.

There can be no rebellion without iron, and flesh cannot defeat steel, just as mortals cannot match the gods.

Iron, the firewood that ignites desire.

Desire is a force called self-motivation, and it is a huge internal driving force that human beings, or any race, have.

With it, there will be undestructible turmoil and evolution.

Manifested on the outside is food, clothing, utensils, and the power to survive.

Inside is its own restlessness, instability.

There is a lot of irrationality in the whole thing, and the apostles of alien races and gods are interspersed with suspicious shadows.

No one wants a true human king to emerge in this land, leading the entire vast race to prosperity and unity.

It would be inconceivable for such a united race with such a large population base to squeeze out anything else and create a force that rivals the native gods.

Can this be allowed?

The Man in Black Armor has spent the last twenty years intimidating his country and the enemies around him.

He has many years left.

He can't live, or else everything else won't survive.

That's not going to work.

Vipers lurked in the rioting crowds, spitting poisonous words out of their mouths, provoking the crowd and telling them that the new king was a former marauder.

Poisonous words poured in from their ears, making the eyes of these people red, and they brandished their swords to surround the royal city.

The eyes of the powerful are on this place that is about to be engulfed in darkness.

Their eyes are also red, like devils.

Then, who will take over at the next dawn?

Who will greet a senseless death on the next silent night?

- "The Flail of Desire: Three Chapters and Five Verses"

The next step in destruction is not necessarily rebirth.

Because the executor of destruction can choose to step on the embers a few times, and apply the ashes.

The rebellion was over, the victors divided the wine and food, and the people behind the scenes came out laughing and took off the winner's head and planted their cronies.

In short, after the illusion of freedom was shattered, everything was back on track.

People who eat pig food are still eating pig food, and most of those who eat a good meal can no longer eat.

The new king?

No one knows where the man in black armor has gone.

Or, he went to the far seas, rode in a boat built by a loyal blacksmith, made his way through a predatory colony of flying beasts, burned a cage made of red seaweed, and was finally dragged into the abyss by unspeakable darkness.

Perhaps, he blended in with the rioting crowd and slew the people who had taken his kingdom one by one, his heart pierced by the arrows of the blind in the deep darkness of the night, and his ghost still hunts down the unfaithful and keeps them awake at night.

It was also said that he saw the man in black armor sitting in the sea of golden flowers, and he did not move even though the royal city was burning.

But when people went to that sea of flowers, they were angry at the fact that they had been deceived.

- There is no sea of flowers there at all.

There was nothing but dirt there.

Everybody wants to hang the king of that kingdom.

Everyone wants to take his head off in exchange for merit, fame, money, and the favor of those who ride power.

But no one could find him.

The king is missing.

The kingdom is divided.

One by one, its people left to go to the divided lands, to their old dwellings, or to other countries to enjoy slave-like treatment.

The realization of desire needs to pay the same price, and the risk principle of this equivalent exchange is a law that no one can avoid.

Unfortunately, most people's input is not proportional to what they receive.

Throwing everything in meaninglessly.

In the end, he also died with nothing.

Desire drives change.

Change brings friction and collision.

What is consumed is output, life, and time.

- "The Flail of Desire: Five Chapters and Two Verses"