Warhammer 40k: Shattered Steel Soul

The forehead of the man who would wear the iron crown was decorated with a silver ring imitating a crown.

The silver ring was gorgeous and exquisite, but Perturabo felt that the value of the craftsman who forged it for him was damaged.

"Who are you?" Perturabo asked loudly.

"Harkon, a prince." Harkon said modestly.

"I know you are Harkon, the eldest prince of Lokos. Everyone knows your reputation." He sarcastically said, "But who are you standing here today and speaking as? Do you symbolize justice or fairness, so that you dare to say that there is no private interest in this competition?"

Harkon's polite appearance was immediately destroyed, his eyes revealed a gloomy look, and the palms hanging at his sides were tense because of the force.

"How can I symbolize such a noble concept?" Rarely, he did not mention the Olympian gods any more. Perhaps Harkon himself knew that he could not win the debate.

"I am speaking with the voice of the Lokos, Perturabo."

He spread his right hand elegantly, his silk robe fluttering as his palm moved. "Each judge has carefully thought about the reasons for leaving their names for the vote. Although I am not as skilled as my brother, I am also proficient in the craft, and I can hear the sincere appreciation of the two works in the words of the judges."

"As for the current voting results, it is a proof of the extraordinary level of the two of you."

"You are proficient in the craft, so do you have the ability to give your evaluation?"

Behind Harkon, Kaliphon stood up silently from her seat and whispered something beside the tyrant. Few people noticed her actions.

"The statue of Hephoni is kind and dignified, while your works are bold and wonderful. Harkon stared at Perturabo and waved his hand. A waiter came forward, holding a gilded pottery jar and waiting on the side. He first asked the waiter to pour him a glass of clear water, holding the cup with both hands, and invited Perturabo: "This spring is taken from the lake where Hephoni was born in Caldis, and sent by the envoy. It is a gift from Prince Adolphus of Caldis. It is kept warm by a fan made of quartz feathers and snow from the top of the mountain, and transported in a tall golden jar. It is specially presented to our glorious and victorious friend, the genius Perturabo. " "Enjoy your victory, friend of the Lokos people. "Halkon said, his noble face glowing with false light. Perturabo stared at Harkon, feeling his ears burning and teeth clenched tightly. Glory? The word didn't burn his tongue? He wanted me to admit his victory? Perturabo's energy was unprecedentedly excited, because the strategy and situation in front of him became too clear. The judges in the hall, the citizens in the street, and even the foreign scholars and envoys were all watching his every move. What was reflected in people's eyes was not the two static stone sculptures on the stage, but the debut of a living performer in front of the public of Lokospro. His talent was too far away from the public, his victory was taken for granted, and his behavior was what would be judged and recorded in the eyes of countless people. Morse expected this day, so he didn't come to teach him carving skills. Because at this moment, carving skills are not important. "Will you accept Olympia's blessing? Respected Perturabo? Or is it that the intentions of the Lokos people offend you so much that you want to refuse? "Harkon said.

But Perturabo only caught the disgusting calculation and greed from his endless chattering and forced names. Even though Harkon kept saying respect, he only felt a strong sense of nausea in his heart.

He saw two dark roads in front of him: accept this cup of "blessing" and choose a coffin of power and strength for himself; or refuse the highest person in Lokos in front of everyone and fall into the ocean of arrogance and bigotry.

Andos stood up from his cushion at some point. His steps were steady, more powerful than wrought iron and carved stone.

"My brother," the prince said standing beside Perturabo. His voice was very soft, not to the people around him, but just a conversation among a few people, "When did you prepare this generous gift... If you want to keep the spring water from afar clear, it will be a bit difficult for the messenger of Caldis. "

He turned his head and looked at his sculpture, sadness in his eyes. "If it was prepared after you visited me... why not return the spring water to the goddess of blessing in Olympia and reenact the myth of Hephon born in the water. "

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