It's silent.

Perhaps due to some kind of conservation law, when the excitement and passion converge in one place, the rest will be deserted, such as the arena where the young talents of the empire compete for glory, such as the royal academy where only a few servants are left to maintain daily decency. While hundreds of pairs of eyes were nervously and excitedly staring at the stillness on the field, Angel Shi was sitting under a plane tree in the Royal Academy, staring at his palm.

It's no surprise that the mythical creature is dismissive of the human honor game, and the strange thing is that the look he looks at his palm is so focused that one can't help but wonder what's there: a new authority? The fate of a poor worm? Or is it a miniature universe?

Unfortunately, neither.

Lying in the palm of the Son of God was a broken string.

Don't be disappointed, the string is nothing but extraordinary: first, it's made from the silk of a widow's giant spider. The creature's silk glands are the main ingredient in the "Witch of Pleasure" potion. While Sequence 5's potions aren't hard to come by, building a musical instrument out of something that can be turned into supernatural power is a luxury in itself. Secondly, the string is both an extraordinary creation and a blessing of "unweariness" by the Angel of Time – in other words, a fraud of the passage of time, and theoretically it would not break so easily, unless......

"Unless the player can't control the force."

Amon closed his palms, and Adam appeared beside him at some point, analyzing in the professional tone of a psychiatrist. It stands to reason that a voyeur should not have such brute strength, but Thoth's right hand concealed a mystery, and Amon had seen him crush a wine bottle with his bare hands, in a tavern in the Glorious Age, to deter some drunken gangster. At the moment of force, Thoth's right hand muscles bulged suddenly, his complexion turned red, and his nails turned black—it was hard to tell if it was the broken wine bottle or the demonic arm that scared the thug.

The fantasy angel picked up a paulownia leaf, looked at the texture on it with childlike clear and innocent eyes, and asked in a concerned but not offensive tone, "Are you still happy with Concealment?" ”

"In terms of 'pleasurable,' He is still the same as before." Amon didn't answer yes or no directly, but Adam understood what he meant.

"You're saying he's creating a semblance of tranquility?"

There is no need to "build". The angel of time corrected silently in the bottom of his heart, just as his father's invigoration and self-righteousness, the silence of the night, and the unbridled bravado of the Medici, Thoth's mildness was a temperament that had endured over the years, or an instinct that could not be tamed by the world. It is pleasant to be with gentle people, but it is also easy to be blinded by the peace in His eyes, and those doubts and insecurities are like white sugar melted into boiling water, and only by leaving Him can we connect all the clues and restore some unpleasant truths.

But Amon didn't say it in the end, he knew it himself, so why bother with this paranoid man? After much thought, He decided to start with something else.

"He rescued a traveler in the rainforests of the southern continent before the anchor was widely established, and that foolish daredevil, a descendant of Abraham's family, was rich and famous, even if there were no angels in their family at the time." Amon paused, "Although they believed in the Father at the time, it was not an opportunity for them to change their faith—I tried to bewitch Him a little to see how much respect He had for the Father. ”

Adam glanced at his brother, and from the slightly upturned corners of his mouth, he could see that the result of the temptation was satisfactory.

"He rejected my offer, even though there was no mention of God the Father in his speech."

"How?"

"'Persuading people to work on Saturdays and Sundays will be thundered by the sky, not to mention that the weather is so good today'."

The angel remembered the serious tone of the hidden sage when he said this, and he remembered the lively folk tune of the jumping frog, and the fingertips of the man jumping on the strings, and the sunlight that illuminated the fingers white...... The weather was indeed good.

"Maybe he just didn't want the atmosphere to be too serious, so he chose a joking tone."

If it weren't for his personality, Adam would have almost applauded—the last remaining corner of his humanity flickered. He couldn't help but think of a sad experience: in a cold laboratory, under the energy-saving lamps of dead faces, young researchers were working overtime to check the experimental data, and it was already early on a Monday morning when they finished their work, and there was not even a glass of vodka on a weekend. Yes, he nodded slightly, how could a holy weekend be violated by work.

But jokes can also reveal the true attitude. When He is in good spirits, work and leisure are in a state of non-interference and distinction, and the opposite of this state is endless entertainment...... Or a sleepless job. ”

Just like the time when Thoth, under the guidance of the ancient sun god and the goddess of the night, had just regained his memory, he sat at the table for a day and night, and there was only a regular square word in his eyes. Eating and sleeping are discarded carelessly, and the changes of light and shadow and warmth have nothing to do with Him, He is like a lonely soul isolated from the world, a rotating millstone or windmill.

But how could He really turn Himself into a millstone or a windmill?

The Angel remembered Thoth's slumber under the statue of the Hanged Man, the pale of His cheeks and the dark blues of his eyes—and was glad that He was not as perfect as the Facelings could hide his weariness, and how long had he not rested before this meeting? Or was he struggling to sleep? What is he covering?

The angel curled up his fingers, his knuckles turning slightly white from too much force, and the broken string was deeply embedded in his palm.

"He could have dealt with the problems of the believers in an orderly manner a long time ago, and Solomon's coercion and temptation would not have made him worry so much, and the crux of his soul was hidden elsewhere, but he refused to let go, preferring to drag on the superfluous ills."

This suggestive riddle darkened Amun's eyes, "It's as if you know exactly what He's doing." ”

Adam's tone remained gentle: "Do you want me to tell you?" ”

"Forget it, there's no fun in a straightforward mystery, but I still enjoy the process of peeling back the cocoon." Amon stood up from under the tree and stretched, "Where's your body?" Sitting at a table weaving a script again? ”

"The script can be written at any time, but the festive atmosphere is not always enjoyable."

"You're going to enjoy the holidays too?"

No one answered Him, and after saying this, the personality side dissipated.

"Hey, my ...... How did you get here?! ”

"Coming over."

The blonde priest replied so calmly that he was not suspicious.

Sonny Chester met this miserable priest on his way out hunting—although he was calm and kind, his icy beard, snowflake hair, and his little sermon robe, all of which were reminiscent of the word "miserable". The simple humanitarianism prompted Sonny to bring the poor man home, and with a little psychological suggestion, he naturally ignored all suspiciousness.

The warmth of the door was filled with visitors, mixed with a sweet and sour aroma that was appetizing, perhaps with the addition of tomatoes. Sonny let out a comfortable sigh and asked the guest if he wanted some wine or tea. "Just have a drink!" Without waiting for the stunned guests to react, he took it upon himself to open the cupboard where the wine was kept: "It will be warmer to drink some wine." ”

"Thank you for your generosity."

Bright flames danced in the fireplace, dry, warm fur kissed his palms, drum-like chopping came from the kitchen, and a pinch of white smoke rushed out of the holes in the lid...... So familiar. Adam pulled himself out of the illusion of the past, but his eyes still glanced at the back kitchen, wondering if there was cream in the soup.

"Well, ahem, it's nothing, after all, generosity is a ...... A ......" tone of the text flattered Sonny a little, looking at the other party's solemn sermon robe, he racked his brains to recall the sentences in the holy scriptures, but he could not hold back.

"Generosity is a selfless virtue that often manifests itself as a gift that does not ask for anything in return." A clear voice sounded, and Sonny's wife came out of the back kitchen and glared at him menacingly, so he dropped his hand from the cupboard in a curt.

"Hot soup is more relieving of fatigue, so if you want to drink the wine, you should save it for the bonfire."

"Thank you too, ma'am."

As He had expected, the soup was the color of tomatoes, beetroots, carrots, and the color of the cold, ironing inch by inch over the cold-numbed lips, teeth, and stomach, without cream, but with beef, onions, and potatoes, it looked like it was full and rich, and it tasted good.

As a spectator, he was accustomed to being quiet, but for a few seconds he was reluctant to look the couple in the eyes.

"Send a few people to plant potatoes? No problem. It's just that I'd rather you come here than a few dispensable coolies. Thoth threw a pine nut into his mouth, "I want to grow a few more fruits and vegetables." ”

After making sure that every mirror was working as usual, Thoth returned to his seat on the side of the Emperor and the Duke. Tudor mentions the fact that "the son of Lord Medici will be punished to grow potatoes in the North if he does not behave well" as a joke, but unexpectedly opens up an unexpected topic.

The farther north the empire went, the freezing it became, and growing crops on the fringes of the so-called "north" was no easy task. Although the technology of this era is not developed, it can be made up for by mysterious means - not to mention that there is also a weather warlock pestle here, so you don't have to use it in vain. Referring to the principle of locking in the heat of the sun in the greenhouse, Thoth arranged ritual magic around the cultivated land to prevent the overflow of extraordinary power, so that the climate created by Medici could be sustained, and the crops suitable for this climate could be produced steadily, so that the Northland could achieve a certain degree of self-sufficiency in the harsh natural conditions.

"You can really toss, didn't you just grow beets and lettuce last year?"

"This year I want to try celery and apples, and last year's beets were not sweet enough, so I would like to plant another batch."

Medici was speechless: "That's vegetables, not sugar, why are you so sweet?" ”

Thoth said solemnly, "Because it has 'sweet' in its name." ”

"Then you might as well grow sugar cane."

"Sugar cane likes warm weather and plenty of sunshine, and it's much harder to serve than sugar beets, are you sure?"

Medici raised his eyebrows: "But I haven't tried it yet, how do you know I can't?" ”

"It's true that a man can't say he can't." Thoth nodded approvingly, a little regretful that no one in this era understood this meme.

All the angels were stunned when they heard it, even if the sage was hidden, the red angels were actually discussing crops seriously, this scene was too mysterious. Tuduo appropriately flattered: "The two adults really care about the people's livelihood. ”

"After all, I have a group of believers whose ancestors are stationed there, and I should lead them to a prosperous life."

"Nonsense, it's my soldiers who are in charge of the garrison, don't you order more food, let them fight the half-giants hungry?"

Although one is polite and the other is sarcastic, they all reveal a sense of course.

The aristocracy had the carnival of the aristocracy, and the commoners also had the pleasures of the commoners.

They had no salons, no balls, no silk fans and silk robes, but bread and cured meats, onions and basil, pomegranate juice and spirits—enough for them to live a founding day that would not be more miserable than the aristocracy. Thanks to the two angels, who had nothing to do and often pondered what to plant next year, the reserves in their kitchens were not as rich as those of the lords, but they were not empty and embarrassed.

The god of war rolled up his glowing banner, the goddess of the night was about to unfurl her black skirt, and the smoke began to rise in the northern town.

Adam was filling a salmon belly with herbs and sweet orange slices, and the warm and simple couple had said nothing to ask the guests to help, but in the end they were impressed by the priest's solemn creed of "not cooking a day, not eating a day", so they gave him a share of the work, while the hostess was clattering tomatoes and bell peppers into sauce, and the man was pickling a leg of mutton.

After stuffing a handful of vanilla into the fish's mouth, Adam finally determined that the fish had reached its limit, and he tasted the extra sweet orange, which was unexpectedly sweet. Sonny, who had finished smearing the last bit of sauce, turned his face to look at him, a smug expression, "How's it going?" This is a fruit that has been blessed by the gods and angels! ”

"It's delicious, I didn't expect such a sweet crop to grow in the extreme cold." Adam paused, "You just said that the gods and angels ......?" ”

"Oh, of course the Great Hidden Sage and the Red Angel!" Sunny said with a reverent expression, "Those two adults don't know what divine power they used, anyway, the weather in some lands has become extremely warm, and even vegetables and fruits can grow in the south!" When you enter the town, you should see a few extraordinarily large yurts from afar, right? It is the land that has been blessed by two great men, and we call it ......."

"Greenhouse." While the hostess interjected, Adam also spoke in a very soft voice.

"Oh yes, greenhouse! But seriously, I thought there would be a better name. Sonny set the leg aside and began to spread salt in the baking pan, "Well, I don't mean to be disrespectful, but the 'greenhouse' sounds a lot like a place to milk cows or feed pigs." ”

"Well, milk and pork, vegetables and fruits, it's all about filling your stomach at the end of the day – I think it's a fitting name."

"Haha, that's exactly what I said. Praise the Hidden Sage! The man pulled the brass Voyeur Eye pendant from his collar and patted it on his heart, "Of course, thanks to the Red Angel!" ”

"Is it like this every year?"

The bulging fish is placed on a salted baking tray and coated with layers of salt to coat its orange and grassy body, and soon it will be reborn under the blazing flames and become a salt-grilled fish with a unique flavor - even if it is only done once a year on a grand festival, but it is enough luxury for the common people, even enough to put on the table of some minor nobles.

"Excuse me, what did you say?"

"No, nothing."

The couple would not have known, and the people of this land of extreme cold would not have known, that at the same time, there were many people of their stature who were still alive and well in this prosperous country, and even if they were born in warmer regions, such a sumptuous dish would not have been put on their tables in the name of celebration. Their well-being was also ignored by the lords who were celebrating the festival - only when the tax day was approaching would the nobles look at them with condescension, and the rest of the time they struggled in oblivion, and the word "life" was worn away by the day-and-night toil, and only the skeleton called "survival", the skeleton was as thin as wood.

He remembered the Garden of Eden, where the birds sang and the flowers sang, and the conversation in the midst of the smell of tea.

"And what kind of god is a great god?"

He said, "What do you think?"

"Probably it is a happy and fortunate thing to make believers feel that believing in me."

Thoth almost blurted out. Today's gods must scoff at his view: how can the feelings of fragile and ephemeral human beings be the yardstick by which they are measured? Life and death are all divine graces, and human beings should be grateful to Dade just because they can crawl at the feet of the gods.

In the age of the gods, man was an ant, a straw, and a dust; In the hermit's homeland, man is the soil, the cornerstone, the beginning and end of all merits—even if the old civilization dies, the teachings of the old kingdom take root and thrive in him.

"You're going to be a great god."

The mutilated Creator repeats the words of a millennium ago.

"My comrade, my friend, I am glad to see that you still remember what you were like at the beginning, I wish your faith and you will be evergreen, and I wish you to see far better scenery than I am."

"You should have higher achievements, and don't let those vague things hinder your progress."

"Even if it's me...... Or 'we. ’”

Before the bonfire burned out, the priest left the crowd singing and dancing, and began a new chapter in the snowstorm.

"Today is the last day of the founding of the nation, perhaps to draw a perfect end to this great festival, the sun is shining brightly, and the snow is like silver, and the people here regard this as a good omen, and no one notices the evil that is surging in the mountains."

"When the snow is exposed to the sun, the surface snow melts, and the snow seeps into the snow and the hillside, so that the friction between the snow and the rocks is reduced, and the gravity of the snow itself begins to move downward, and a gust of wind blows just right-"

Click, click, subtle movement came from the Grotai Mountains. At the same time, Thoth, who was thousands of miles away, put down the pine nuts in his hand.

"And then an avalanche happened, and that made sense."

In the writer's unhurried words, the mighty white poured out for thousands of miles, and rushed unstoppably towards the village below.