"Just in case some of the original nobles who lack coherence in memory are too forgetful, allow me to reconfirm here: do you remember where I came from?"

Rika Fujimaru leaned back in her chair and asked.

If she could change to a more private occasion, she would be more willing to speak more clearly. Although she and St. Giles had made many heavyweight speeches in the main hall of the church before, the words "You remember that I am also a Tzeentch Chosen One" did not seem to be able to be said in front of the Holy Blood Guard and the Chief Think Tank after all. For the sake of her own life, Rika Fujimaru had to take a roundabout way, once again using the information gap between them to turn the hint into a riddle that only she, St. Giles, and Sigismund could understand among those present.

Then again, she felt that this basic fact was best known to Mephiston, though it probably shouldn't be right now. In this way, if something goes wrong on the Chaldean side, the Holy Blood Angel can deal with it. She quietly added the showdown mission to her schedule, pretending not to notice the atmosphere she had caused by her last phrase "It doesn't sound so heretical, but it probably contains some very heretical hints," and waited for St. Giles' reply.

"I should ...... Indeed remembered. Although he replied in the affirmative, St. Giles's tone did not sound very convincing, "I have at least heard the version paraphrased by Azcaron, and it is very ...... Unforgettable. ”

"You can say 'it sounds fake'. To be honest, I was amazed that I was able to make it this far. Also a master of the art of euphemistic communication, Rika Fujimaru effortlessly reads the unfinished words of St. Giles beneath the various adjectives, and is unfazed, "The process in this part is not important at the moment, what matters is the beginning." ”

This does not mean that there is nothing worth mentioning in the "process", it is just that the parties themselves do not want to mention it. Rika Fujimaru was sure that the Crystal Labyrinth Battle Royale was the worst intermission she had ever experienced in her life, and there was no one. Chaldea was very damaged in the process, and the reason why he was able to grab a glimmer of life and escape in the end is difficult to say that there is no reason why the final boss released water. This directly led to that, and after that, Rika Fujimaru couldn't stop being happy when she heard that Tzeentch was unlucky.

Also a thousand-year-old fox, St. Giles certainly knows what Rika Fujimaru is emphasizing here. But he deliberately did not touch the direction related to the Lord of Change: "In my opinion, the result of your successful arrival at the Star Torch is more important. Whatever the reason. ”

"The connection between cause and effect is very complex, and sometimes the cause and effect of an event are often not what it seems. For example—" Fujimaru Rika paused, "Wait a minute, I'm sure I'll find a way to argue a riddle that doesn't sound so much like Tzeentch......"

"I'm sure I know what you're trying to say, so don't bother." There was a clear smile in St. Giles's tone, "May I remind you that no plan in this world can be called perfect, and we need to take risks when making any decision. What's more, in a seemingly losing war, if there is a more than 50% probability that a strategy can be reversed but not adopted, then the commander will at least be accused of cowardice. ”

The empire is already rotten now, and there is no essential difference between rotten and worse, but what if it gets better? ——

Within seconds, Sahar realized the answer to the question of why he, the Midnight Lord Terara, who had fought almost the entire part of the Great Expedition, lost to Sevita, who was a complete recruit in the first company commander's race.

From an objective point of view, Sahar's conclusions at this time are undoubtedly one-sided and limited. This answer obviously doesn't explain why Sahar didn't get a position of importance in the Legion command before Sevita joined the Legion, but it was intuitive and convincing enough for him to be here and now:

After the provocation, he was unsurprisingly slapped by Sevita. In the current scenario, or among the Midnight Lords, this is a normal thing. Even if he was transposed, Sahar would have chosen to do so to the prisoner who had provoked him, so he was fully anticipating this and fully prepared for the pain of the attack - but the problem was not there.

The problem is that Sevita's move was clearly done in person, and Sahar barely caught the moment when he made the move. It wasn't until he was hit the cheek, and the smell of blood accompanied by a burning pain, "buzzed" through his nose and mouth, that his reflex nerve transmitted all the clues captured by his vision to his brain, accurately connecting the cause and effect of the whole thing.

…… Is there such a big gap between him and the Lord of the Black Guard?

Before he could recall anything about the question, he was pulled by Sevita's hair and forced to straighten his head and gaze again. The disgusting feeling of vertigo came to him again, but Sahar knew that it wasn't too heavy. At least, all of his teeth were still in their place, only slightly loose. He could have spat a mouthful of blood on Sevita's face, but after thinking about it, he decided not to do it for the time being.

"What's wrong with us, it's an 'old acquaintance', what will happen next, you and I are clear in our hearts." "It won't do you any good to provoke me, and you know it," Sevita hissed softly in a Nostramo accent Gothic familiar to Sahar, a Gothic accent that had often appeared in the Midnight Lords' legions 10,000 years ago. ”

That's true. Sahar can identify with this part.

Then he chose to spit a mouthful of blood on Sevita's face.

It's not all an unnecessary battle of wills. You know, this is not an occasion for "be obedient and you'll be fine", even a blind person can read from the current atmosphere, this is an interrogation. In an interrogation, the interrogator often needs to use various means to resist or avoid the interrogator's right to speak in order to protect his secret, which is a matter of course - but this kind of face-to-face provocation and highlighting a "I am not good at interrogating me, don't think about it" approach to the same end, I have to say, probably a tradition unique to the Midnight Lord.

What's more, Sahar thinks he has to go back. Therefore, he had to find a way to provoke the other party so that he could be released from the shackles. But somewhat to his surprise, instead of being provoked, Sevita laughed:

"Indeed, I can understand you. But I'm really annoyed by this right now, you know, right? ”

Then, Sahar saw a straight punch coming at him, and he was just too quick to react. After that, he must have lost consciousness for a few seconds. When he came to his senses, he was not surprised to find that his nasal cavity was bleeding again, and then stopped, and the clotted blood scab hindered his breathing to some extent. In addition, one of his less strong canine teeth was pressing against his tongue at an unnatural angle. He spat out the broken tooth and found that Sevita had left its place, and the sound of cortical grinding could be heard in the darkness farther away.

Sahar recognized it as the sound of a whip. The traditional punishment of flogging was common among the Legions, and as a direct result of the fact that most of the Children of the Night had extensive experience in both administering and receiving flogging, and Sahar was no different, he would never admit his mistake.

"Are you applying neurotoxin to the whip?" He asked, leaning into the darkness that he couldn't see because of the angle, and was not very happy to find that his voice sounded a little uncanny because of his lack of breath, "Is this a little too old-fashioned?" ”

"I'm sorry to make you bored, but you know, I'm bored right now, too." Sevita's voice slowly approached from the corner of Sahar's vision, little by little, unnecessarily slowly—all to add some psychological pressure to the prisoner who was about to be tortured. Sahar knew this trick and he was good at it himself, so he didn't feel that he would be intimidated by it.

"During this time, I should have been very idle, I could read books in the library, listen to music, play a game of cards, or do some other similar idle things that can be regarded as self-cultivation." This is only half true, Sevita is not really that idle, but Sahar does not know, "The arrival of your uninvited guest has really disrupted a lot of my plans. Impolite guy. ”

The whip that burst through the air, along with the last sentence, whistled menacingly across Sahar's face. The "attack" was skillfully done, not hurting the muscles on Sahar's cheek, but accurately scraping off a piece of his skin. Capillaries slowly oozed blood from the wound, running down his jaw and into his neck with a slight itch.

There must have been something on Sevita's whip that would stop Astarte from clotting, Sahar judged, and then a burning pain began to ignite at the new wound - compared to the pain now, the two times Sevita had beaten him with his bare hands were nothing more than an appetizer.

Sahar gritted his teeth, forced himself to squeeze out a hideous smile, and stared at Sevita who had returned to his gaze: "That sounds like you're actually idle. The Lord of the Black Guards is nothing more than that now. ”

This should be a provocation. For the management of the legion, "idle" often means "not reused"; For the management of the renegades, "idle" often means "making ends meet". From any point of view, this is not a good thing, but judging from Sevita's still peaceful demeanor, he was probably not provoked by this sentence:

"I see what you mean. You want to provoke me. But do you know what it means to be 'I'm idle'? Savita even smiled as she said this, a smile that was indifferent and interesting, and for the first time today, Sahar felt viscerally uncomfortable.

"It means that I have a lot, a lot of time to spend on you." "But I'm also sure it won't take long," Savita said almost word for word, and the consonant breath characteristic of Nostramo's accent was like a gust of cold wind blowing on his neck, making Sahar's hair stand on end, "But I'm also sure that we won't be able to do it long." You're always obedient, aren't you? ”

He tried to speak, but the whip that fell between his chest and abdomen forced him to grit his teeth as hard as he could, barely letting out a painful breath. Sevita didn't do much tricking, he didn't even use any nerve-wracking tricks, just made the whip "wipe" off Sahar's skin at high speed again and again. However, the unknown poison on it made the whole process extremely unbearable, and the unnatural pain burned his nerves. And it was by no means some kind of simple neuralgia.

If you want to use metaphors, Sahar would say, it is as if a hot iron is reaching into your soul, never cooling, and it will continue to be scorched, as if it were trying to refine oil from your bone marrow. It's not that he's not been tortured, and it's not that he's not been hit by some torture weapon, but this time it's a bit too much.

"What do you want to do?" Before the twelfth whip fell, Sahar finally couldn't bear the torture and spoke, "What do you want from me?" ”

In fact, he had nothing to say to the former company commander, and no matter what Sevita asked, Sahar decided not to answer. He just felt that he needed a little respite anyway. His breath trembled with excruciating pain, and the absence of a cry in his tone was his last decency. Sevita's flogging was indeed temporarily interrupted by this passage, and that was what Sahar was for—

"What do I want to do? Good question. The Raven Prince thoughtfully brushed the whip in his hand—a plain leather whip, with no iron ornaments or barbs, no force field of any kind, just a literal "leather whip"—"There's nothing to hide, so I'll tell you the truth." I'm here for a simple reason: I'm not angry, and I want someone to beat me up. ”

Sahar's eyes widened. It's not that this reason is ridiculous, in fact, this kind of "ridiculous" reason has seemed very normal among the Midnight Lords in the past, and it has become even more common after the death of the original body and the entire legion is like a wild horse that has lost its limits. He was outraged by the reason given by Sevita, for he clearly felt slighted at this moment:

"How dare you use me as a prop for fun?" Driven by his anger, he struggled discontentedly in the shackles, and brought the chains with a rattling sound, "How dare you? ”

"Can't you?" Sevita showed a smug smile and rolled up the whip in her hand almost unconsciously, "Do you need me to remind you, who is the prisoner and who is the one who carries the whip?" ”

With this action, Sahar finally saw the abnormal blood red on Savita's fingers - but he only "saw", and his angry mind prevented him from "realizing" the point that was not quite right. He tugged at the collar around his neck so that he could move closer to Sevita, who had been in the distance, like a dog in a cage and baring his teeth outward, and roared inwardly:

"You're not qualified to do that! I'm a company commander after you, and the original body personally awarded me this position! Personally awarded me the symbol of the 'Night King's Crown'! I'm the one who has the power to inherit the entire legion! ”

Maybe he shouldn't expose the existence of the "Night King's Crown" to the other party, but the hot-blooded Sahar can't care so much. Unfortunately, he was still too naïve, too superstitious about the original, and too superstitious about the binding force of an edict from 10,000 years ago in the present. Sahar should have known about his flaws, but he just wouldn't be able to correct them. The current situation did not improve in any way because of his words, only to tell him once again that the things he believed in were nothing—not even in the eyes of the other Midnight Lords.

"You see, that's why, our father prefers me to you. If I were still here, how could the Legion be left to a man like you who had nothing but bravery and foolishness? Sevita looked amused, "Listen to what you said, do you think they have enough weight to affect the reality before us?" ”

"That's the core of the problem." In this instant, Sahar unexpectedly calmed down, and instinctively quickly took the handle that Savita handed out herself, "Why aren't you here?" ”

"Where were you when the Legion laid siege to Terra? Where were you when the Children of the Night gathered in Tagusa? When our father was bent on dying—"

The hammer-like impact of the whip interrupted Sahar's unfinished words. His ears were ringing, and he was sure he had bitten his tongue, but his first movements, after a slight slowdown, were still a triumphant smile.

For the first time today, he finally saw an enraged expression on Sevita's face.

(End of chapter)