1:373 Counsel to the Jedi (1)

As he took the first step, he heard Tutan snort. He knew that the elephant man had a keen sense of hearing, and that his presence might have been exposed. He calmed down, walked slowly, and went downstairs in the same rhythm as Albert walked.

The Elephant Clan Patriarch Tutan was not at all surprised to see Bedeville push the door open into the conference room. He must have heard about Bediwell from Robol's mouth.

The burly mahout sat on the floor (for the wooden chairs could not bear the weight of the mahouts), and even though he sat on the ground, he was still four or five heads taller than the thin and short werewolf boy.

"Oh, isn't this the silver wolf Bevelf, you still know a little politeness when you come to me in such a formal dress. Tutan spoke quietly, as if to test Bediwell and mock him.

Bedivel lowered his voice, "Elder Tutan, I'm here to see you today, if nothing else, but to ask you to reconsider the matter of starting a war with humanity. Aren't people all pacifists?weishenme would agree to such a ridiculous thing as war?" "Is it ridiculous?" Tutan sneered, noncommittal, "the patriarch of the previous generation, Padil, is my brother. He is also against war with humanity, and he has said the same thing as you are saying now. Bediwell looked dazed, not knowing what the other party was trying to say.

"My brother was killed by the Tiger Clan Patriarch Roble. Tutan's words surprised Bedeville, "Well—" "But, I think brother should die." That's right, the kind of person who only knows that he is nested in his own territory, and does not care about the suffering of the people in his territory, really deserves to die. "The Turkic people live in the marshes of Eastern Europe, and their lives are ten times worse than here. Darkness always gripped the area, and all kinds of evil beasts were rampant, and the only thing that could be eaten was a swamp berry, which would release a fierce poison in the victim's stomach if it was not cooked thoroughly in water before eating. Bediville was even more confused. He knew that life was not easy for the elephant people, but he never thought that life for elephants would be so difficult.

"To be honest, I wasn't in favor of war at first. But the swampberry is almost gone, and our people have no food to eat. The drought has turned even the swamps into dry land, and we can't guarantee even the most basic water sources.

So, Beverff, the silver wolf, answer me:-

Should we really just sit back and die?

My people were starving while the humans were squandering on food, pouring tons and tons of uneaten food into the sea. While the human race was spending precious pure water, unscrewing the faucet and letting it flow in vain, my people were still pitiful there, searching for water inch by inch, still dripping every drop of precious sweat, trying to dig wells that would dry up in an instant.

So, Bevelf, answer me!

Do my people deserve to be treated unfairly like this?Don't my people have the right to live?Don't we orcs have the right to live more?" Bediwell listened and retreated. Tutan had come prepared, and every question he asked weighed down the werewolf boy, and Bediwell was powerless to refute every word he said.

"Even so—" "Boy," Tutan didn't even give Bedivir a chance to retort, "I've heard about you. I admire your courage. You are a good and kind boy.

If it weren't for this war, I would probably be happy to hug you, feast with you, and let you know what a hospitable and friendly people the Turks are. However, our current position does not allow it. If there's nothing else, just step down. Unless you have a solution to the hunger of my people, all you do is Lang wastes time. Bediwell sighed.

"I used to think that even if I starved to death and died of thirst, I must be able to keep my moral bottom line. I definitely don't eat food that doesn't belong to me. He whispered, as if he was just saying to himself, "However, in the face of survival, sure enough, morality is still meaningless." When people are about to starve to death, they have no regard for morality. "Exactly. Tutan sneered and nodded. His eyes reflected a faint cold light.

"Good luck, then, Patriarch. Bedi said sadly, "In the end, it's just a role reversal." You have robbed mankind of food, filled your own stomachs, and starved others to death. You've survived, congratulations. Tutan frowned, his wrinkled elephant face stacking more wrinkles as he frowned.

"The result is just the law of the jungle. The strong are qualified to rob the weak of everything. Ignoring his politeness, Bediwell spat out all the grievances in his heart, "If you really want to do this, why don't you take off your [pacifist] hat first?"

Don't pretend, it's just a bunch of vultures. So to rob other people's property and food as a matter of course, and to call themselves pacifists, there are enough hypocrisies. "We—" Tutan's brow furrowed even deeper, "-oh, you can't live without that, yes!" Bediwell said angrily, "then do it." For the sake of his own inferior life, it is better to rob the lives of others.

The meat of the weak is the best, they will not resist, and watch as you squeeze them dry and rip off the fat from them piece by piece!

What a high-sounding reason to survive!" Tutan did not answer. Bediwell's words were harsh, making him extremely angry, but he couldn't think of anything to refute it.

The werewolf boy picked up the dinner knife on the table, slit his arm himself, and pointed it to an empty cup: "I was raised by humans." This blood is the blood that man gave me, and this flesh is the flesh that man raised. "Blood flowed from the wound in his arm into the cup. Bediwell cut deeply, and the blood flow was very large, and soon a whole cup of blood was shed.

"Come on, drink a little, and since you can take human food for granted, you shouldn't be afraid of this little blood, right?" he handed the cup to Tutan.

"Stop, little imp—" Tutan grabbed the cup in one hand, threw it out, and knocked it to the ground.

"If that's not enough, there's more—" The werewolf boy was so excited that he picked up the knife and was about to rip the flesh off his arm—"Stop!" The werewolf reached out and grabbed the werewolf boy's left arm, stopping him from harming himself.

"Are you crazy?!" Tutan cried, his liliang so big that he almost crushed the prosthetic leg of the werewolf boy's left hand.

The werewolf boy in front of him had already burst into tears. He looked straight at the elephant patriarch, his eyes full of unwillingness and sorrow:

"I just want us orcs to-

Live with more dignity!" That phrase speaks of Bediwell's love for his fellow orcs.

It was an extremely clumsy, but unpretentious word.

That's real.

Because it is real, there is an incomparably shocking liliang.

Tutan looked at the short, thin, clumsy, and ignorant werewolf boy in front of him. A teenage boy, crying, was talking and pleading to the battle-hardened veteran.

What he said was actually a simple truth that everyone knows.

Such a simple truth, even children know it clearly, and some adults always don't understand?

Can even dignity be abandoned in order to survive?

In order to live a better life, can you give up your moral bottom line?!

What exactly did you give up and what did you get?

Is everything you get worth giving up in exchange for everything?

Both were silent. They stared at each other silently for a century. Blood poured out of the werewolf boy's arm, staining half of his sleeve red.

The patriarch of a generation of elephant people was overwhelmed by the courage of a mere werewolf boy. Bediwell's wish was simple, so the light in his eyes was as clear as water, and some were just a simple appeal. He didn't even have to say anything, Tutan was able to understand clearly.

Did you do your best to survive?

Is aggression really the only answer you can give?

La-la!!-la

Outside the house, the sound of heavy rain rang out.

The decade-long dry season has finally come to an end in the midst of heavy rains.