Vol 2 Chapter 492: Power comes from violence (on)

Chapter 492 Power from violence (on)
A monster.
A monster that feeds on power.
In the mind of Tyres, the figure that had not been seen for a long time appeared involuntarily.
The man with the scepter, wearing a crown, named father, but a majestic figure.
The prince sank for a few seconds.
"You don't like the status quo of the West, but you don't want to forget the past drought. In the past, it was only the West End of Falkenhaus?"
"So you hope that I will do something."
The prince looked up at Cyril and his voice became alert:
"you know."
"Six years ago, when I left Yongxing City, someone said something similar to me."
The Duke of Westland stared at Tells for a few seconds, then smiled.
"No, Your Highness."
Falkenhaus slowly spit out and turned to face the window:
"Don't think of me as the old-fashioned old-fashioned old-fashioned old-fashioned, or fascinated by the glory of the past, and refuse to look at the futuristic future - although my peers are such people."
Tyres scorned:
"What makes you different from them?"
This time, Cyril was silent for a long time.
He was just motionless, watching the scene of the bustling and patchwork of the camp under the window.
"Why, Tyres?"
Finally, the Duke of the West was sighed with emotion:

Why can we rule this land?

The guarded Star Prince raised his brow.
Just listen to the rulers of the Falkenhaus family:
"Whether I am now the Duke to rule the West, or do you later become the king to rule the stars?"

Enjoy this better than everyone else?

Cyril's theme jumps too fast, and hides the machine front, and if there is nothing but the harshness, it is extremely uncomfortable for the people who are accustomed to the Northland to talk about things.
"Because we are wise enough to be rulers and unparalleled in strategy?"
"Is it as timid as the Northlanders, dare to be the first?"
The duke stood at the window, and the thin, dry figure reflected the silhouette and was firmly tied to the ground.
"Or because you are a man of heart and heart, do you care for the people?"
"Or is it the glory of the ancestors, passed down from generation to generation?"
Cyril’s words turned, revealing his favorite satirical tone:
"It’s true that it’s a destiny to fall, and everyone wants to return..."
"And those things that flow in your blood vessels can really - sparkle?"
The Duke continued to say half as usual, staring at him with a optimistic look, as if he was waiting for something.
The teenager was silent for a few seconds.
Finally, Tyres sighed deeply.
"Whoever teaches you to talk like this, Duke of Falkenhaus..."
"Is he specialized in teaching idiots?"
what?
Cyril’s smile was a stagnation.
I saw the sighed Taylors shrugged helplessly:
"You know, until today I discovered: I hate rhetoric so much."
Rhetorical question?
The Duke’s expression became more and more confused.
But the prince no longer walks along the words of Cyril, but looks at him indifferently:
"A little tip, the unpopular Duke."
"Whether discussing or negotiating, the yin and yang grotesque rhetoric seems to enhance your tone. In fact, it can only make you look like a cunning, clever entertainment clown: it does not help to convey effective information except to express your self-righteousness in tone. ""
Listening to the expressionless expression of Teres, the face of Falkenhauser slowly stiffened.
"If you have an answer, say it with a positive sentence. If you don't approve it, just use a 'no' word to finish it - because in addition to provoking emotions, no one is interested in knowing what you are saying with rhetoric. Shit content."
After Tyres finished speaking, he tied the dagger to the bed.
The room was quiet for a long time.
I could only hear the cold wind.
Cyril stared at Tells, just like he first met him.
The duke's lips were pulled up a few degrees and put down a few times. It was quite a bit overwhelming.
Taylors looked like he had no arms, and he looked innocent, squinting his head and waiting for the other person's answer.
Finally, Cyril closed his eyes and bowed, long sighed:
"That's why I don't like Northlanders."
"No," however, Tyres raised his eyebrows and took his words:
"This is just why you are not welcome."
Cyril was another meal, and he was speechless.
"Continue, why are we ruled?"
At last, Tyres, who was comfortable, exhaled. He sat on the bed and leaned against the wall to meet his hand:
"Don't let me interrupt you."
Cyril sighed slightly in his heart.
Haven't you interrupted it long ago?
The duke was silent for a while before reopening:
"In fact, I don't think we can rule for the above reasons, Taylors. Not at all."
The words of Tyres sounded again:
"well!"
Cyril was once again stagnation.
"We finally started talking."
I saw that Taylors raised his index finger to the other side with a comfortable face: "It is not difficult to talk well, isn't it?"
"Continue to keep."
Cyril, who had just brewed a good mood, was stunned again.
The Duke slowly sighed: He began to realize that the boy in front of him was not the fist that was six years ago, blushing, pleading with the prince, and selling clever illegitimate children in front of the lords.
He is a comet from Tells.
The stars outside the sky.
Thought of this, the Duke gently sideways, ugly face reflected cold cold shimmer.
"Prince Taylor."
"In my opinion, it is customary to truly rule this land, rule the kingdom, and even rule the whole world, so that countless people will obey us."
habit.
"Habit, habit..." Tyres chewed Cyril's words and suddenly understood something.
After he unexpectedly got his voice back, he began to slowly grasp the seemingly random conversation of the other, the erratic axis.
However, at this time, Cyril slammed his cane and took a step in the room.
"Men are accustomed to raising a family, women are used to bringing a baby at home, businessmen are used to returning goods back and forth, farmers are used to paying taxes, the aristocrats are used to governance, and the rituals are used to the gods..."
"The army is used to violence, the officials are used to the order, the author is accustomed to dragging, the lord is used to arrogance, and the king is used to being in the throne..."
The Duke’s speed is very fast, just like his pace, like climbing a mountain that does not see the summit:
"People are used to paying for things, getting used to doing bad things, getting used to being punished, facing bowing habits, and facing the habit of living a dagger..."
Cyril is like a god, his left hand gently licking the old wall, the expression on the face has become serious.
This made Taylors sit up straight and unconsciously.
"Habit, that's they - every creature we ruled - when you were born from the womb, you saw it, what the world looks like;"
"That is what they have repeated and practiced in a limited number of years and lives. The world is set to look like it;"
"That is how they subconsciously respect, imitate, and be convinced after seeing the actions and reactions of countless people."
At this point, the West Duke, who pressed the wall with one hand, suddenly raised his head!
"Thales!"
The teenager was shocked.
I saw Cyril staring at him coldly.
"People are obedient to our rule, respect our position, and loyal to our identity, not because we are great, not because we are born noble, not because of the strength of our grace, not because we govern the government, but also Because your blood is glistening!"
"But because - they are used to it!"
The cold wind that infiltrated the room from the window blew the duke's leather robes and hair, and it seemed that the image of Cyril Falkenhaus at the moment was very different and chilling.
Tyles swallowed his throat subconsciously, and he had no time to deal with the instinctive irony in the Duke's tone.
Cyril squinted and the sharp gaze from the eye was not weakened.
"Because they started from the first day of the world, their ancestors did just that. Their parents did the same, and their peers still did this, so they themselves are used to doing the same, and Also convince their next generation to do the same, and do the same."
Taylor slowly frowned.
"And this group of people show their habits to other people, another group of people - whether it is children, elders, relatives, neighbors, strangers or masters, servants, colleagues, superiors and subordinates - day after day , year after year."
Cyril stopped in the same place, but the tone was deeper and deeper, just like telling the most terrible and chilling ghost story.
"Until everyone, including you and me, hates strangers, resents abnormalities, and develops inertia, thus recognizing the truth that violations of habits are abnormal and need to be eliminated."
Tyres’ expression is getting tighter and tighter.
"So, the habits spread more and more, the more they grow, the deeper they become, the more serious they become, the more common they become, until we call them..."
Cyril's tone reveals an unprecedented dignity and gloom:
"order."
A cold wind blew, and Tyreser shrank a little, but the light outside the window could not give him any warmth.
Taylors suddenly felt that the room at the top of the tower was so cold.
Just like...
The palace of revival in memory.
"Do you understand what I mean, Your Royal Highness."
Cyril’s words re-emerged and pulled him back from somewhere else.
"In my opinion, this is the only, fragile, poor, but also eternal, powerful, and profound, that sustains our rule."
"And those who want to shake these habits and shake these orders..."
Cyril sneer:
"It's all terrible."
The move to shake these habits and shake these orders...
Tyres couldn't help but raise his eyebrows and snorted:
"For example, this time, the Wings of Legends is the practice of the Blades Camp?"
The duke’s voice paused for a second.
"Do not."
"It's not only so small, it's not so close, it's more than that light."
Just listening to Falkenhaus’s voice is low, as if there are centuries of lament:
"For example, we all know that from a long time ago, some of the stars of the stars, no, maybe several superiors in successive generations, they sprinkled the bait of the kingship and changed the thousands of lower-ranking people. Become the enemy of the lords."
This sentence has tightened the nerves of Taylors.
The bait of the king.
At that moment, Taylors suddenly felt this way: Cyril Falkenhaus, the unpopular person who acted strangely and was exceptionally speechful. The purpose of his coming today is not just to win the second prince.
The prince became more serious.
"By the ladder of the kingship, they slowly climbed up and smashed back and forth with us."
Cyril slowly walked back to the window and looked back at the desert camp under the window:
"So, hundreds of years of family rise and fall, the aristocracy rotation, the fate of countless people ups and downs, life and death, and ultimately the kingdom of today."
The voice of the duke is low and vague, but unquestionable.
"Hundreds of years, from the succession of the family, the succession of the title, the ruling of the tax, the appointment and dismissal of officials, the judgment of the law, the mobilization of the army, the revival of the palace are all in a step-by-step but unstoppable way, moderate Slow, but resolutely, take it from the hands of the lords."
When I heard this, Tyres couldn't help but think of the night of the Dragon Blood six years ago. He made a generous speech in front of the five grand princes, as well as a female grandfather, telling the scene of the status quo of the stars.
I also remembered the story that was heard by the old guards of the Royal Guards.
The rise and fall of homes for hundreds of years, the rotation of the nobility...
The fate of countless people rises and falls, life and death are impermanent...
Taylors meditated and did not speak.
"You know, although every step of the two sides is clearly seen," Cyril leaned forward and seemed to look at the scenery under the window more carefully. "But it really makes the game interesting... There are countless possibilities in the number of steps you can see."
It’s like watching his board.
"Take a step and see ten steps - every one of you moves, not only the board at the moment, but the next few steps, dozens of steps, and even hundreds of steps."
"Therefore, the opponents after a hundred steps can't be fooled, and the casters admit defeat. This is far more interesting than face-to-face, boxing and punching."
I don't know why, when I heard it, Taylors suddenly remembered the black sword.
The boy remembered the man’s battle with Giza, and the black sword took him and broke into the flesh and blood of the multi-headed snake Kilika.
From the initial breakthrough position to the choice of the breakthrough route, Black Sword starts from the first step and calculates all the factors that consider the battle, thus moving towards victory.
He is like a chess player who uses battle as a game.
Cyril’s tone is steady, and the sparse hair is shaking with the robes under the cold wind:
"There is no sound but quietly, the spring is raining and the autumn is collecting 10,000. This is the wise way of ‘Yinjun’, isn’t it.

Yin Jun.
Taylors slightly glimpsed.
"Yinjun?" He repeated it subconsciously.
Cyril suddenly turned around, revealing a frowning "witty" smile, and the tone echoed the usual "kindness":
"Why, you thought, for so many years, from the ridiculous country to the Wangjia Bank, especially those of us who are in it, even if they are stupid and blunt, can't anyone really see it?"
Taylor’s heart sank.
The duke raised his head and narrowed his eyes:

Like me, many of us know it well.

"It's just powerless."
I know it well.
Powerless.
Taylors took a deep breath.
He couldn't help but think of the guilty expression of Rumba when he brought up the sage in the carriage.
Once in a while, a hundred years of chess.
The eyebrows of Tyres are wrinkled and tighter.
"Why, why is this expression?"
The duke looked at the scenery under the window, quite a bit careless:
"The old crow said in the letter that you are quite interested in the sage, isn't it?"
Tyres shook his head:
"I just……"
The words of the prince came to an abrupt end.
and many more.
What Taylors is aware of, his eyes are wide!
"Old crow?"
The prince suddenly looked up and lost his voice:
"You know him?"
"Know him? Hey, Prince Teres..."
Cyril's laughter followed the wind.
"When Meri Hickssey departed from the dragon's kiss, and passed through the three countries of the sea to enter the stars, and then went up to Exeter in the distance, do you think he was sent to and cross the desert?"
Taylors stunned.
Meri Hicks, through the desert, north to Exeter...
However, how did they know the Duke of the West, the old priest of the Andenzo Principality?
Cyril felt like his doubts.
The duke sighed for a long time, and there was a few memories in the ugly voice:
"When I was young and stubborn, I had a special bachelor's teacher from Dragon Kiss."
Tyre's ears moved.
Having said that, the Duke shook his head and laughed:
"Until the uncle found that his bachelor's qualifications were forged, he smothered Hicks in the wrath and threw it into the desert - ah, the youth that is nostalgic."
Thales blinked and spent a few seconds to sort out the cause and effect.
That means.
The West Duke guardian Duke, and the old crow Hicks...
The surprise on the face of Thales became more and more obvious.
Putilai said that the old man has been a teacher for many big people.
It seems that it is really not...
boast?
"I am with you, Your Royal Highness, we are connected to each other in many places we can't see."
The Duke of the West was getting louder and louder until he turned from the window.
Just listening to Cyril seems to open inadvertently:
"As for you just asked, who taught me to talk like this, and he is not specifically teaching fools..."
The Duke of Falkenhaus slowly narrowed his eyes.
At that moment, Taylor suddenly felt that his face was a little stiff.
Boom!
Cyril’s crutches screamed on the ground.
"I think, Hicksor has certainly taught fools... What do you say?"
The duke narrowed his eyes and stared straight at Tells, revealing the malicious cover:
"His Royal Highness?"
At that moment, the air in the room seemed to be frozen.
In the face of this unanswerable question, for a long while, Teres was desperate to pull his face and eat the expression of flies, barely revealing a sly smile.
Really fucked.
With the gaze of the Western Duke's revenge, Tyres struggled to shift the subject:
"I probably know what you want to do."
Taylors looked up.
He began to get used to the fact that the other person seemed to be careless, but in fact he was hidden in the conversation.
"In the face of the Renaissance Palace, you can't do anything, so you count on me, expect a new king, change the kingdom from the throne?"
But to his surprise, Falkenhaus shook his head again.

First of all, not ‘we’, just me.

Tyres feels a little stunned.
"Second, change the kingdom? No," the Duke whispered:
"The kingdom has been changing with or without you."
Cyril re-circled around the wall, paced and slammed, and the right hand tapped the furnishings in the room from time to time, as if to remember something:
"Exactly, the whole world is changing, not just at this moment, not just a hundred years ago, not just six hundred years ago."
In the eyes of the Duke of the West, the light in the eyes:
"From 'Black Eyes' John took advantage of the king's prestige, began with the strong brakes of the national lords, and issued the 'inheritance bill' to the 'broken pulse' Su Mei II, and the 'cutter' Tomond IV impounded the main sacrifice. 'Creditor' Elan III passed the King's tax law."
"Until the unprecedented reform of ‘Yinjun’, 闵迪思三, and the move of ‘Poet’ Eddie I to convene the permanent residence of Yongxing City.

The owner of the Fakenhaus family put down his right hand and returned to face the face of Tyres:
"Even today, your father's iron fist that almost caused public outrage."
"The world is changing every minute, not only the generation of the sage."
Tyles was uncomfortable with him, and he couldn't help but hold his arms more and more tight.
From the second generation of the stars, Blackhead John to Kessel V, he suddenly discovered that the historical span mentioned by Cyril was far beyond what was mentioned in the Battle of the Dragon Palace in Longjing City.
More than just a sage.
More than... Kessel.
"Every minute is changing... This is very familiar."
The prince sighed:
"You are probably a student of the old crow."
Cyril hears contempt:
"Hicker, he opened my eyes, and my thoughts, my heart."
But his gaze changed immediately:
"But what about you? His Royal Highness, Prince of the Kingdom?"
"Are you opening them?"
The two were silent for a while.
"If I open them too, what do you want me to see?"
Tyres sinks his face and slowly.
Cyril did not laugh.
He just looked at Taylors seriously.
It seems that he is waiting for this moment.
"The country six years ago was a meeting, prince," only listened to Fakenhaus whispered:
"Tell me, what did you see?"
six years ago.
The country is a meeting.
Taylors once again remembered the meeting that determined his fate, and he couldn't help but put down his arms.
But the teenager did not interpret much, but only briefly and carefully answered:
"My father won."
Cyril snorted.
"Yeah, your father won."
"He won a great victory, not only in a meeting, but in the entire country, in the 18 years after he desperately crowned the king."
Tyres clenched his fists.
"but……"
Sure enough, the West Duke’s words turned, and the words became short and fast, high and low.
"The conspiracy is revealed, the backbone of the heart is lost, and the northern environment is rested, but do you think that the people of the Northland who share the same source with Exeter are sympathetic?"
Northland.
Thales remembered Miranda Arende who had "the friendship with him."
"The girl in the blade may depend on the kingship, but don't forget that it was the province that was known for its robbers from the time of the Empire. The rebellion of the Scarlet Year is made from it."
Blade collar.
The veteran dude of the blade, Lena Turbak's vague face flashed through the heart of Tells.
"And the cliffs have long been unable to hold back, and I want to move - I know that Gustad Nantes is not a fuel-efficient lamp."
Cliff land.
At the eyes of Tyres, there was a one-eyed, but aggressive face.
"As for our wilderness," Falkenhaus pays attention to the expression of Tyres, and the deep and ugly face shows deep jealousy:

Look at the things that the Blades Camp has experienced these days, the prince, and then tell me: What will the Renaissance Palace harvest from the Western lords who are below the self?

"Those vassals in my name, in front of the wings of the legend, are they shivering and looking down, or are they biting their teeth and hating?"
Thinking of the Roman face - almost everyone's arrogance, Taylors could not help but take a deep breath.
"You are talking about these actions of my father," the prince long ignored, seriously considering the words of the Duke:

Will it end up with a mess that is hard to clean up?

"Even with his wrist?"
Cyril shook his head. At this moment, the Duke of the West Rarely faded away from the humorous (not knowing the time?) attitude, the tone was gloomy:
"When do you want to understand, your father's wrists are high and low, regardless of the outcome of his willingness to go?"
"And it's not just him, there are countless people - whether they are standing on the side of the king like the kings, or people standing opposite him like Goss, their intensified contradictions will bring unforeseen as a result of."
Tyres bites his teeth.
In his long-term impression, his father, Kessel V, was in the political struggle of the kingdom, and he was in the upper hand and firmly suppressed the opponent.
However, what Falkenhaus said...
Does it really make sense?
Cyril gave a long breath, put down the inconvenient left foot, and pressed his cane with both hands.
"Maybe the lords who dominate the party and the princes of the kingdom are slowly going away, is a trend and inevitability," the Duke thought thoughtfully:
"Maybe this is the embarrassing trend of the stars, never stop."
"And anything that does not stop it by itself is futile and stupid."
But Falkenhaus finally looked up and looked at the priest who was equally contemplative:
"But in the same way, anyone who is impatient, wants to help by the general trend, compress time, speed up the progress, and see the ending in their hearts as soon as possible - such behavior is also stupid."
Anxious.
Just as stupid.
Taylors did not speak.
I don't know if I heard Tyre's suggestion, Cyril kept his seriousness at the moment:
"There has never been a glimpse of the country. Even if it is wise and wise, such as 'Yinjun', it must be carefully put into a game, and it will take a hundred years to see the effect: you can't hold the mind of 'Bai Qigong's one battle', decide violently and eagerly and shortly to decide thousands. The fate of tens of thousands of people."
He sighed:
"Like ‘Blade King’ Tomond II, ‘Eagle’ Kaiser III and ‘Red King’ John II, their biographies seem to be victorious, but the roots are buried.

"This will only be worse."
Falkenhaus closed his mouth and fell into meditation. He stood in the same place and let the cold wind blow his leather robe.
It seems that the war is so good, but the roots are buried deep.
Somehow, Tyres suddenly remembered King Nunn.
And after the death of this natural king, the rebellious, the dragons and the city, surrounded by the enemy, and the unstable and stormy Yingling Palace.
There was also the poor girl who was sitting in the seat of the Grand Duke, and could not even put the thumb of the triumph of the triumph.
Tyres was silent for a long time before he snorted:
"My father is afraid that he will not like to hear this."
Cyril raised his eyes:
"So you don't have to be in front of him."
"Unless you get to the day you can mention."
Tyres tried to ignore the hidden meaning in the other's words and said:
"But you also said that the general trend has never stopped, and any behavior that blocks it is futile and stupid."
"If, if all this is just a hindrance that will surely cross..."
"Just the only way to go before the summit?"
After listening to this, Cyril was silent first, then sneered.
"just?"
The duke pulled up the crutches and limped closer to Tyres.
But Teres felt that the horrible face of the Duke of the West was not so unacceptable.
"Be careful with your words, Tyres, I believe the old crows have warned us."
I saw Cyril Falkenhauser’s solemnity:
"Don't let the high arrogance ruin you - whether that arrogance comes from sitting on the throne, or scorning when you look down on history books."
Feeling the resolute tone in the other's tone, Taylor could not help but tighten his body.
"As for the obstacles that must be crossed and the way to the summit, you must know..."
In the cold wind, the sharp eyes and sharp voices of the Duke of the Western Wilderness, the two-way two-way Tyres pressured:
"The darkness is especially terrible when the dawn is approaching."

Before the storm went away, the destruction was only dramatic.

This chapter has changed about seven or eight drafts.
There is still that, vote for the moon ticket!
(End of this chapter)