The pen is sharper than the blade – Robert Kiliman knew this phrase a long time ago, and now he has a new sense of it.

Words, words, and all the vehicles that can form 'communication' will be a hundred times sharper than a knife edge in some way, as long as you know how to hurt the person you are talking to.

He had just seen Conrad Coetze's outstanding abilities in this area and was amazed. In his memories and feelings, there is only one person who may have had an impact on this.

And Karil Lohals is clearly not a person who can use words to destroy others.

That is, this is some kind of talent of Konrad Coetzes himself?

Killiman put the guess aside, and he followed in the footsteps of his father and brother into a room.

There are countless rooms on the Imperial Dream, and this one is special to the naked eye. There was no gold in it, only pure ash. Not a gray that belongs to the building material, but a dead gray.

There were no chairs, no tables, and the room was silent, cold and frosty on the floor. And one of the things that surprised Robert Killiman the most was that there was already another person waiting here.

A pale giant.

Conrad Coetzes opened his mouth in surprise, he was talking, there was no doubt about that, however, no sound was heard.

He frowned suspiciously, as did Killman, and Angran narrowed his eyes—they were both quite skeptical of the current situation until the voice of the Lord of Humanity sounded behind them.

"Next, you don't need to be silent." He said slowly. "Silence is sufficient, and your thoughts will be presented to me and him in your hearts in a way that is different from words. This type of communication isn't going to be more efficient, but it's a must if we're going to talk about what's next. ”

An icy wind blew, and Angron felt a chill, and it took him half a second to realize that it was not some natural phenomenon, but because Karil Lohals was speaking.

"Because what we're going to talk about next is subspace."

He raised his right hand.

Slender and powerful, calloused fingers slowly clasp the palm of his hand – a detail that Conrad Coetzes captured.

At this moment, he realized that Karil Lohals's 'self-healing' was actually not what they had imagined, because he had seen a bloody tattoo on his wrist.

What is it that a person whose flesh has been burned will grow new flesh when it recovers?

He looked solemnly at Carlil, who was aware of his gaze, but did not respond, only clenched his fingers as slowly as he held a knife.

After a brief moment of force, there was a flash of cold light—it was by no means a shadow created by a weapon, and Robert Killiman was so sure of this, he didn't see any weapons in Carlil's hands, but there was an extreme sharpness approaching from the other side of the air.

Then, the frost began to spread rapidly, following someone's will, from the ground to the entire room, leaving it completely frozen in frost.

Then, the Lord of Humanity also raised his right hand. He slowly pressed against the wall, and just like that, the gray of the dead silence began to change, and the golden light danced like a flame that began to appear within the frost.

"But it definitely doesn't stop at subspace." The emperor said solemnly. "There's still not much we can reveal, because they're so toxic that even you can't afford to do too much. However, to the extent that we are allowed, we will know what to say. ”

He looked at them—a gaze that was terrifyingly heavy, like a heavy cargo that oppressed porters, and began to make the shoulders of the genetic protogens sink unconsciously.

Angron frowned, his muscles pumped, and he began to resist. Robert Killiman forced himself to ignore the pain with his reason and gritted his teeth and persisted. Conrad Coetzes quietly changed his posture, stretching his back, slowly adjusting to it.

Then, the Lord of Mankind spoke slowly: "Who was the first to ask?" ”

I got it.

Robert Killiman said so in his heart. He could hear his own voice—not the silent voice he used to talk to himself in his mind, but the real voice that came from his own.

And he knew very well that he was not speaking.

"What do you want to ask, Robert?"

Imperial truth, Father, I want to know the truth about it.

I trust you, and I know you won't design and promote it for no reason, but it's clearly a lie, and both Conrad and Angeland will agree with me, we've seen too many things that the truth of the Empire can't explain.

"Good question." The emperor bowed his head at him, his expression still serious. He was silent for a while, and then he spoke, and Kiliman still held on in pain, his reason unimpaired, but suddenly there was a trance before him.

He saw a cracked abyss.

"There are many ordinances, many words, in the imperial truth. For example, rationality, such as atheism, and the requirement that people learn a scientific worldview and use it to analyze the world before them. Put an end to superstition and spurn irrational so-called supernatural phenomena. ”

"I wish there were no more so-called wizarding practices, afterlife conjectures, spiritualistic studies, or primitive god worship within the borders of the Empire, but yes, it's a lie, Robert Killiman."

"It's a big lie that I devised and pushed myself, and it will eventually be seen through by humanity itself, but by that time, people will no longer need it. You could call it a lie, Robert, and it is. ”

"But there are two sides to everything. It is both a lie and a shield. It is a false shield that can be true in some ways to protect the soul of all people. ”

Kiriman was silent for a long time.

Father.

"I'm here, Robert."

So what's going on with Luojia? He sees you as a god.

"He's a special case, the most glaring one of my lies. I tolerate him because he is my son and he himself has been completely overshadowed by the power of religion. He can't see the real thing and what people need in front of him, but he has a good nature, so I hope he can get out of this situation on his own. ”

You say protect, who does Imperial Truth protect?

"Humans."

Their souls?

"Yes."

If protection is needed, it means that there is an enemy. Those enemies - where did they come from?

The Emperor looked at his son calmly, and just stared, and began to let Robert Killiman breathe hard.

His reason was warning, screaming at him to stop and stop listening. In all fairness, the Emperor had nothing to hide this time, and he patiently and meticulously explained Killiman's problem, but it was this meticulousness that made him feel unbearable.

The pain of gritting his teeth and perseverance was spreading until it became a monstrous wave that crossed the dam of his reason. It leaps up, then slams down.

Killiman opened his mouth, his pupils dilated, and the pain overrode him.

"You can't take the truth yet, Robert." The Emperor sighed.

He took two steps forward and held Killiman before he fell to the ground. The golden light converged, and a chair appeared, which became a temporary lean for Robert Killiman.

Angron silently withdrew his gaze, his vision blurred at the moment, blood cascading down the dark red lines of his face, shattering on the frost.

He fought against the shock of the truth, and the bruises on his forehead and neck were the same. The nails kept rising and falling in his head, and the two pains stacked together, which made the gladiator laugh involuntarily.

"Who's next?" The Emperor asked briefly.

I got it. Angelon said.

The emperor looked at him, and deep lines appeared between his eyebrows, like wood chopped by a lumberjack, and deep cracks appeared between his eyebrows. Angrand felt a pure concern, without the slightest pretense.

Don't worry about me. The gladiator gasped and replied. It still holds up, and besides, I don't have many problems.

"Then ask." The father, who was not yet recognized, replied, and there was no pity in his voice.

And that's enough.

Angron smiled, a scarlet red between his lips and teeth, terrifying.

Who harmed them?

"It's a monster." The emperor said. "A monster that hides in the darkness, devouring blood and lives to sustain the eternal war. He is the blade, the armor, the battle, the death. He is the roar of warriors and the desire for victory, and He is a symbol of honor, but He is evil. ”

I know.

The gladiator gasped silently, his head bowed, his back always high. He smiled cruelly, his face distorted, his pale blue eyes unobscured.

Can He be killed?

"Not right now." The Emperor replied solemnly.

So, is it okay later?

"Maybe one day."

Good.

Angron relaxed in silence, no longer resisting the pain, and fainted like that.

Conrad Coetzes held him first, and Robert Killiman's fall was something he didn't expect, but this time, Coetzes was ready to watch his brother fall and remain indifferent.

However, although he held Angron in his arms, he himself felt that he could not breathe for a while because of the change in his posture. The golden light flickered again, and another chair appeared, on which the Nukerians sat on, blood flowing freely across their faces.

The Emperor looked at him, stretched out his hand to wipe away the blood, and glanced at the nails with disgust. They were so entangled with Angeland that they might still be physically pluckable, but the gladiators themselves were no longer willing to.

They symbolized his past, they were another kind of rope of triumph that Angrand told his father in that day's solitary conversation.

"You'll be the only one next, Conrad." The emperor said slowly. "And what do you want to ask?"

Conrad Coetze looked at his father—and his other father.

Then, he shook his head.

I've got the answer. He said. I don't have any questions to ask.

There is one more chapter.

My hand hurts a little, I write a little slowly, sorry, by the way, I asked for a ticket.

(End of chapter)