Black sails

Chapter 453 LXXXVII. The bright red scepter (6K)

What goes against common sense is that when a country is on the verge of destruction, it is often internally weak and its conflicts cannot be resolved.

This was not the case in old Syria.

Under the influence of an organization, the old Yalan that was on the verge of collapse was integrated, and even showed the last remaining power of this country. No one can avoid this too violent and terrifying edge.

Thirty-seven years ago.

Year 2653 of the Holy Spirit Calendar, Old Syria.

Duchy of Fabric (now the Southern Province).

The wind and rain were dim, the Milky Way poured in, the sudden thunder and lightning lit up the entire gloomy jungle, the iron hooves of the armored black horses cracked the dead branches, and the hum of the galloping army drove away every frightened bird in the forest.

Marcus, who was in his twenties, received instructions. As a master sergeant, he led a team to clean Fort Fabrick from the flanks and suppress the evil parties.

Because of the foolishness and madness of the monarch, opposition forces spread throughout Old Syria.

But this secret department, which was originally limited to hunting witches, has become the most trusted eagle dog of the old Aran monarch. It has moved from a secret agency to the front of the stage.

The rise of the Witch Hunting Secret Service, the highest violent organization that reports only to the king, has power that cannot be restricted.

As of now, there is no witch left to kill.

The target has developed into everyone without distinction. As long as it is a killable thing in the world, it will be slaughtered.

The order Marcus received was to clean everyone here indiscriminately, and his men also monitored him to see whether he was loyal to Ogne, the head of the Secret Service, and whether he had violated his will.

You must comply with every regulation in the action plan, just like a machine, at least in form, it must be completely consistent, otherwise who will know whether you are secretly following your own will.

Ogne's judgment cannot be questioned.

As long as you cross this jungle, you can go straight into the flat wilderness where Fabrick Castle is located.

Marcus killed quickly, and the resistance forces hidden in the jungle were more fragile than dead wood in front of him.

In the trap hidden under the lush vegetation, rows of wooden stake spikes popped out as the horse's hooves touched. Marcus led the team in front and bore the brunt of the attack.

The black horse was covered in iron armor, but it was also knocked over by the force of the impact, neighing for a while.

The powerful arcane magic of controlling objects and the natural advantage of wood elemental magic in the jungle.

Stepping on the invisible force field sheet, Marcus hovered strangely in the air and performed the spell.

The resistance army came to encircle and suppress them, but the branches of the thick trees in the corner of the ground were twisted into curved rings like evil pythons, piercing the head, disemboweling the belly and spraying the contents, or exploding the head and flying out several skulls. Debris embedded in the tree.

Marcus is blind and only relies on the force field to sense everything around him.

All the humanoid silhouettes in the field are presented in Marcus' mind as a three-dimensional scene.

He couldn't feel a drop of blood, everything was just black and white, only an empty and pale force field.

The invisible force sliced ​​through the trees, and the jungle collapsed, revealing the remaining enemies.

The members of the Secret Service under his command killed and executed the remaining soldiers one by one. Marcus waved his sword, and the spiral sword wind of twisting wood chips blew the last few enemies into a puddle of flesh.

All the bright red was quickly diluted in the secluded forest. These resistance soldiers were dressed in rags and seemed to be just insolvent tenant farmers who were forcibly gathered.

Members of the Secret Service fear Marcus's power.

Since the Secret Service is not an army, it does not have corresponding military ranks. Before and after standing on stage, apart from the supervisory committee and other clerical agencies or the internal secret guard, there are only soldiers and sergeants in the external violent agencies.

It also means that every master chief is one of the strongest.

As long as the Supervisory Committee does not discover abnormal thoughts, the sergeants only need to report their work to Deputy Chief Zotte and do not need to report their work to anyone in the royal court.

Marcus ordered the soldiers to remount and march straight into Fort Fabrick.

This is a big battle.

After this battle, the opposition forces united by magicians, scholars and nobles in the south will be completely eliminated, and the kingdom of Aram will be restored.

Marcus had studied at the Arcane Academy, and as the southern base of the opposition was made up of sorcerers and scholars, he had no doubt that he might encounter some familiar faces.

But that doesn't matter.

He has made up his mind, and he can no longer turn back, even if it is wrong, he must carry it out.

The fierce iron hooves tore through the rain curtain, crossed the deep dense forest, and came to the open wilderness.

The heat wave filled the air, and the magnificent Fort Fabrick was burning with blazing fire.

The field spreads out.

Marcus couldn't feel anything, but felt the ablation heat very strangely on the rainy day, and asked his subordinates about the situation.

This time it was a large-scale battle, and it was led by Zote, the deputy director of the Secret Service.

"Sir, Lord Zotte, the castle has been captured, the royal flag has been planted at the city gate, and the suppression of the southern opposition has been completed. All that remains is to purge and mop up."

His subordinates answered mechanically, with sunken eyes and no emotion in their pupils. The raging fire was reflected in his eyes, and tortured Pyromen jumped off the city wall.

Marcus ordered to march into the city, and the iron hoofs crushed the charred corpses on the ground, turning them into bright red eroded soil. Next, he had to report to Zote, the top person in charge of the operation.

Blind, everything seemed blurry to Marcus, just concepts captured by the force field and written messages entering his mind.

There were many sergeants gathered in Fort Fabrick, and Marcus was among the last to arrive. There was no greeting among his colleagues, only indifference and hidden hostility.

He was the only one left without reporting to Zote.

After learning Zote's location, Marcus ordered his men to stand by and wait for his return.

In an airtight stone room, candles provided lighting, and the warm candlelight shone on the blood-stained torture instruments on the wooden table. They were all very basic tools, such as tweezers, pliers, and knives.

This is the first time in Marcus' life that he meets Zotte.

Zote turned her back to Marcus, had a tall frame, wore an ordinary black uniform of the Secret Service, and had thick black hair. She was not an old man.

Since he was being tortured, Marcus had the good sense not to disturb him, but just stood at the half-open door, waiting for it to end.

The general leader of the southern opposition, Duke Fabric, was the protagonist of this torture.

Duke Fabric was no longer as glamorous as he had been in the past. He was tied to the execution platform in shame and without any clothes on. This arc-shaped execution platform could bend and expand, thereby breaking a person's spine.

To Marcus's complete surprise, Zotte was not asking about his comrades, but was asking some unnecessary questions.

"You are a slow learner, Fabric. What is three plus three?"

Zote asked boring arithmetic questions.

"Equal to seven..."

Fabric weakly said the standard answer Zote told him.

But Zote was not satisfied and continued to pull the lever, causing the execution platform to curve even further.

Marcus could hear the crisp sound of the big bones breaking in his spine, but Fabric didn't scream at the top of his lungs, just intermittent gasps.

"Sometimes it's seven, sometimes it's six, and sometimes it can be any number."

While Zote was speaking, she noticed Marcus beside her and held out her hand to let him come over.

Marcus did not dare to neglect and stood next to Zotte respectfully.

"Sir."

Marcus spoke out of basic respect and did not call him deputy chief. No one liked the word vice, even if he was the second-in-command of this powerful organization.

"What's wrong with your eyes and chin?"

"During a crackdown on heretics, I was caught by cult personnel. Thanks to the doctors from the Secret Service, I was given a second chance at life."

"Cult member? Miracle of pain?"

"Yes."

"Huh? I seem to have heard from you that as a magic swordsman who uses field perception, being blind is not a big deal."

Zote was very interested. The battle was over. His instructions to other sergeants were to stand by. Later, the captured warlocks and scholars would be gathered together for execution. There was nothing important now.

He gave up his position.

"You come to torture him. To be honest, I don't know how to torture him at all. You are better than me."

Zote ordered, pressing Marcus down on the stool and telling him to pull the lever to bend the execution platform. Pulling it about three more times would completely break Fabric's spine.

"What do you want to ask?"

Marcus had never tortured anyone before, he always asked his subordinates to do it, and Zote's order made him feel on pins and needles.

But in fact, Fabric had already told everything he knew.

Zote is just being sadistic.

Fabric felt very cold and couldn't help shivering. His teeth were chattering and tears ran down his face. For a moment he was like a child, reaching out to catch Zotte.

He had a feeling that Zotte was his protector. The pain all came from outside, from other places. Only Zotte could save him from these pains.

"Anything is fine, the most important thing is to consolidate the power of the Secret Service."

"Sir, I really don't know what to do."

"Your name has been heard in my ears, which shows that even among all the sergeants, your performance is very outstanding. You are a very important contributor to the Secret Service's development today. The organization is now unrivaled, you...Maku Si, in the royal court, except for the current monarch, you have more power than everyone else. Especially after the victory in the southern battle, the monarch will not blame you if you go to the palace and kill powerful officials. "

Zote's strong hand pressed on Marcus's shoulder. Yes, the Witch Hunting Secret Service has vaguely vacated the royal power, and Ogne is the most powerful person in Alan.

This power must be consolidated, from without, from within, and penetrate into everyone's mind.

"If that were your order, sir, I would do that."

Marcus answered.

Opposing the witch-hunting secret service's suppressive movement will be regarded as treason, and his family will be executed together, he answered without hesitation.

And Zote was extremely satisfied with Marcus's answer.

"The opposition in the south wants to abolish the monarch. Fabric pretended, and perhaps really believed, that they did not seize power voluntarily and would only rule for a limited period. It would not take long before a country where everyone is free and equal will emerge. paradise.

We don’t do that. We know that no one who seizes power intends to give up power.

Power is the purpose, not a means. The purpose of persecution is to persecute, the purpose of torture is torture, and the purpose of power is power. Do you understand what I'm saying now? "

Zote looked at Fabric and made Fabric feel powerful, which was far more effective than simply executing Fabric.

He was tall and stood in front of the candlelight, completely blocking the light in front of him and shrouding Marcus in darkness.

Marcus, who is blind, does not need light to see.

"I see."

"Very good, now you have to show him your power. It's not enough to just obey. If you don't let them suffer, how can you know that they are secretly obeying you and opposing you? Power should bring pain and shame, tearing people's thoughts into pieces, and then pieced them together into a new shape according to your own ideas."

Zot asked Marcus to do it.

Marcus didn't hesitate for too long, pulled the joystick, and the execution platform made a sharp and sharp sound of mechanical friction, and arched again with a violent arc.

Fabric had lost the ability to roar, but his body was extremely horrible. Twisting back, like a bow that was squeezed, it could only make the bending sound imposed by the bow holder.

"You are in charge of everything now. This is a truth that is quite counterintuitive. All scholars have their own reasons for hiding their own things. They tell people that power corresponds to obligations. They are really annoying and harmful, aren't they? End it here, brother, and then we will go out and kill those bastards who fooled the people."

Zot called Marcus brother, patted him on the shoulder, and left the interrogation room first.

Now, Marcus has become the patron saint of Fabrique.

"Don't blame me, blame... this world."

Marcus did not dare to disobey Zote's order, and pulled the joystick twice in succession. The execution platform was stretched to the highest arc, not only breaking the spine of Duke Fabrique, but also splitting him in half alive by the arched support. Compared with beheading, it was a large tear with uneven force, and the contents were sprayed all over the floor.

He felt only the force field and the warm liquid on his face, and then left the stone chamber without looking back.

In Fabrique Castle.

All members of the Secret Service received instructions. Except for the craftsmen and pregnant women, all were executed. The repeated purges made the people's livelihood in Alan, which was originally a populous country, wither. This is not a good sign.

To show power.

Members of the Secret Service poured kerosene on the execution targets one by one, set them on fire, and let them jump off the tower in pain and commit suicide.

It is said that being burned to death is the most painful way to die, but the dead cannot speak, and there is no way to prove this.

As for the main members of the southern opposition, killing them is a privilege, and they will be executed by the sergeants themselves.

On the dark castle edge platform, dozens of court sorcerers and scholars who used to be able to enter and leave the royal court were tied tightly with hemp ropes, and their feet were also shackled. They stood in a row on the edge. One step back was a hundred-meter abyss.

The sergeants who participated in this battle, including Marcus, were also gathered here.

In the rainy night.

Zote took out a wrinkled royal court document from his arms, and was ready to speak in official language. These people were accused of treason and would be executed according to the law.

But the rain was too heavy, and the handwriting on the paper could no longer be seen clearly, and it was useless to light a torch.

Zote couldn't do it even if he wanted to read it by heart, so he had to organize his words freely, and trampled the royal court document under his feet like discarding waste paper.

"I also want to spare you, after all, everyone present is a dragon and phoenix among men. Every loss of such a talent is a huge regret for Alan.

But I have to do this. In times of national crisis, wolves are everywhere, and we must settle down internally and resist external forces."

But as he spoke, Zot was amused by his own words and changed his attitude, "You are miserable. This is a massacre. Let's start, all sergeants, let me see your methods."

These scholars and warlocks are extremely tough, and none of them kneeled down to beg for mercy because they were in a desperate situation.

All the sergeants were also quite agile, cutting their throats with the daggers in their hands, and then kicking them off the platform, smashing them to pieces.

Marcus couldn't see anything. He walked forward a distance, picked a hapless guy at random, and kicked him off the platform with a knife, completing the task assigned by Zot.

"Marcus... is it you?"

Another prisoner found the greatly changed Marcus in the crowd and asked in disbelief.

A sergeant was about to execute him.

At this time, the only person left at the edge of the platform was the octogenarian who had just called Marcus.

Although Marcus could only sense the vague face through the force field, the voice was extremely familiar.

He had studied arcane in the Arcane Academy, and the old man was one of his mentors.

But Marcus just froze in place, not daring to reply, even if he made a slight noise. Being in a high-pressure environment for a long time, he had a premonition of something.

But Zot's ears were very sharp, and he reached out to stop the sergeant who was about to execute the prisoner.

"Do you know him?"

Zot called Marcus, and he had some respect for Marcus.

"Yes, sir, he was my mentor when I was in the Arcane Academy."

Marcus replied with a slightly trembling voice.

"I see, it seems unreasonable and immoral to let students kill teachers."

Zot said so.

Although Marcus had long been numb in this abyss-like vortex, he was also relieved, as long as he was not handed over to himself.

The octogenarian did not use this relationship to beg for mercy, and his smile was filled with despair.

The thunder rolled endlessly, and the rain poured down.

"But you should kill him.

Morality is essentially selfish, and everyone wants to gain benefits for themselves, and they create conventions.

To judge whether something is moral, it is that everyone in the world is doing it, and whether it will have an impact on this huge interest group.

This kind of thing is like a rotten woman who has been seen by countless people, so it is better not to do it.

Marcus, we are the ones who stand on the top of power and are noble. Let’s kill him. "

Zote ordered calmly.

The other master chiefs were also motionless, looking at Marcus with a playful desire to see how Marcus would choose in order to make up for some of his own shortcomings.

Marcus froze in place.

He had to carry out this order, just like in the end, everyone... had to die.

He couldn't refuse.

This is Zote's, power.

His spirit was like a dangerous building. Even if it was something that didn't require any physical effort, when he picked up the sword, it felt like he was picking up something extremely heavy, and his hands were shaking constantly.

His teacher just looked at Marcus calmly and said nothing.

Marcus prayed in his heart, he hoped that someone would save him and drag him out of this quagmire of despair, God!

Finally, Marcus walked up to his former mentor. Under extreme fear, his mind went blank.

His sword swing was too slow.

"This is not what you want, Marcus. This is not what you want."

After the old man finished speaking, he took a step back without waiting for Marcus to make a move, jumped down, and fell to pieces, merging with the burning corpses on the ground.

It rained heavily.

Marcus fell to his knees weakly.

finally……

He was completely defeated by this abyss.

As it is now.

Thirty-seven years later.

A church in the royal capital of Aram.

The rumors are true. It was Zotte who had been on the run for eleven years. She returned to Aram, defected to Marcus, and solved the mess in the industrial area of ​​the imperial capital.

He used his crushing power to destroy all the royal forces in the industrial zone, and kidnapped Akasha's confidant, Lagrand, and used them as a hostage, finally making the royal court give in.

Both sides have their own concessions.

The sect will no longer interfere with anything in the industrial area, but the price is that the sect will participate in the "Advance Movement".

Wang Ting won face, and the sect won face.

The leader of the recently established Eighteenth Formation of the Sword of Time is Zote, the former deputy director of the Witch Hunting Secret Service. The Eternal Religion protects him. He will advance all the way and even set up the Dragon Lord's church to the east of the Narrow Sea to preach. After it's done.

General Zote...

return……

The pinnacle of power,

Nightmares spanning decades flooded into Marcus' mind like a tide, dragging him into the largest and most powerful abyss in the past.

It seems that because of this fear, the Dragon Lord also lost some of his favor, and Marcus' hair began to turn gray when he returned to his youth.

"I should have killed him, I should have killed him."

Marcus just sat slumped under the stained glass, using the force field to carve the stone, the statue of the Dragon Lord, for several days and nights.

He should have killed Zotte from the first moment he saw him.

But it can't be done.

Own……

is a coward.

"Master officiant..."

Sharon had never seen such a desperate person.

And at this moment.

The train station of the Aran Imperial Capital.

It's a beautiful scene in early summer, with cloudless sky and clear blue sky.

The Eternal Sect has its own train. The train engraved with the Dragon Lord's emblem will follow this railway and carry the Eighteen Sword of Time formations directly to the forefront of railway construction.

Zote wore a dragon mask and asked the deputy in charge of this operation.

"Are these people unable to speak? Or something?"

Zote had just arrived and didn't understand many of the rules in the sect. Behind him was a group of Swords of Time. These crazy people made him feel a little uncomfortable and out of his control.

"Some believers will cut off their tongues when they are young and swear to only obey the Dragon Lord's will in this life. Words... are no longer necessary."

The deputy said.

Zote was a little stunned.

god.

What he once scorned, now felt some reality.

Zote truly felt the boundless power and the endless pain it inflicted.

"What a...supreme power."

Zote said nothing and boarded the train to the Principality of Mulon.