After Arthur Stanley's almost monologue questioning, the secret room fell into dead silence, and the two sides confronted each other silently. Pen % fun % Pavilion www.biquge.info

"Your Highness, I think you should take a break—you have too many terrible fantasies in your head. After a full quarter and a half of hours, Evan Hall finally broke the silence, his tone always polite.

"Even if the Duke of East stormed the Golden Palace and arrested the Queen Mother and the King, it was because they had committed sins and deserved to be judged. ”

"And we, on the other hand, have only done what you set out to do - avenge the king. We're doing the right thing. ”

Evan tapped his fingers on the table, and even though everything was under control, he couldn't look the prince in the eye.

"Is it true? All conspiracies are cloaked in the veneer of justice. Arthur Stanley sneered.

"No - all change requires blood. Your Royal Highness, you have been in the Realm Bed for too long and have compassion, but compassion is of no use except to put yourself in trouble. Not only is it not good for your situation, but it is also good for the empire you are about to rule - it will only make it worse. ”

Evan stood up and nearly knocked Arthur to the ground, "So, dear Prince, what is the use of you telling me so many speculations? Is it just to show off your intellect? ”

Arthur shook and finally stood on his feet, his voice horribly hoarse, and his head ached as if it had been burned through. Yet he still stared at Evan Hall, unflinching: "Whatever you do, you will only end up pushing the empire into the abyss of even more chaos, making people live in heavy taxes and wars - you are the creators of evil." ”

"I hate Lelia Stanley, I hate Elio Parton, I hate all the people who caused the tragedy, and I certainly want them to pay for my brother's life with their blood. But what's the difference between you and these people?"

"Yes, change requires bloodshed, regime change requires sacrifice. But the prerequisite is that the person who leads the change must have high morals, and his aim is to bring the empire to the light, not just to gain profit!"

"I tell you my speculation to let you know that since I have decided to ascend to the throne, I will not become a puppet. I have the ability to break free from your control, and you will either cooperate with me or be my enemy. ”

Arthur Stanley never fought against fate in his life, he succumbed to illness, indulged in the death of his brother and friend, never thought of revenge, but since he had embarked on this path, he chose to take responsibility - the responsibility of a changemaker, the responsibility to carry on the legacy of his deceased brother.

He must send this message clearly to the allies of interest who want to prop him up to power. These guys, who just want to make a profit, won't let him die right now - which means that not only will they be directly exposed to the powerful enemy of the Silver Eagle Alliance, but they will also lose the support of the Sanctuary. All the efforts they have made before will be meaningless.

Evan reached out, as if to support, essentially forced, to put Arthur Stanley back in his chair.

"Your Highness, you have done nothing all your life, and you are and will be—I warn you once again that too much thought can seriously damage your health. Instead of worrying about the chaos we will bring to the Empire, worry about whether you will lose your life. ”

"As far as I know, Pelé-Sieri, though leading the royalist army in retreat, is sending someone to track down your whereabouts, intending to assassinate you before you ascend the throne. So, you'd better be quiet, do nothing, stay in the secret room, and wait until that day comes. ”

Little King Repon smelled the fireworks, and he was both excited and angry—he loved fire, and now there was the smell of fire everywhere, and he could see the bright red tongues of fire outside the Golden Palace!

And yet he couldn't move - his mother sat on the damned throne and clung to him!

It wasn't like usual, it was full of pesky steel freaks - they were actually palace guards, Repon couldn't tell who they were, and there wasn't a single figure in the hall, they were all outside, shouting and screaming.

It's fun, it's fun, but he can't get out!

He was so angry that he grabbed his mother by the neck, and if she had done normally, she would let him go and listen to him—what the people said, yes, orders.

However, his orders are invalid, they should not be invalidated, he is a king, he can do whatever he wants. His mother often said this to him.

"Command!" Repon cried out angrily.

"Let go, let go!" In a hurry, he could only speak monophonic words again.

Mars soars higher and higher outside the window mullions, which is comparable to Chinese New Year's Eve. Repon was in a hurry, and the fireworks were always fleeting. If you can't catch this one, you'll have to wait a long time, a long time to see it.

However, the mother, like a stiff sculpture, does not let go in the slightest. Repon also felt her trembling violently, a shaking that made him feel uncomfortable, as if he was sitting in an unstable carriage that made him want to vomit.

There was warm liquid running down his hands, and some fishy smell, which made him vomit even stronger. Then he saw the red, flowing juice - it was blood, not his own, it was his mother's.

It made him a little happy - blood, blood, people bleed only when they had the most fun, when they were skinned, when they cut off their tongues, when they gouged out their eyeballs, when they cut off their arms and legs......

His mother would also bleed, which turned him up. He stretched his hands up a little and grabbed his mother's neck.

Does the mother also scream like everyone else?

He was a little disappointed, his mother just turned gray and shook more violently, but she didn't shout, she didn't kneel, she didn't continue to bleed, and he found that the scar he had just picked out had begun to scab over.

Soon, Repon felt that the hands holding him were starting to weaken, and he seemed to be able to break free.

This quickly diverted his attention from his mother's neck, and he wrenched her hands away, and then pushed her - she seemed to slide off the chair, motionless.

However, he lost interest in the body. Repon quickened his pace and rushed towards the golden gate, his strength was great, but his height was not enough to reach the handle. He was in a hurry, and ran through the hall, smashing all the cups, candlesticks, and books on the table.

He began to bang his chair frantically against the window lattice—the crisp cracking of the glass of the floor-to-ceiling window reinvigorated him.

With all his might, he smashed all the reflective things, and finally felt a little satisfied as countless pieces fell. Then he found a low hole—just enough for his diminutive stature to get out.

He squeezed between the steel bars, and with one foot in the air, stepped out of the council hall, and ran excitedly towards the flames. (To be continued.) )