Lord of the Mysteries fanfic: wake up, hermit

The crowds in the stands were bustling.

In the blink of an eye, Founding Day ushered in another major event besides the national sacrifice and tower dedication - the swordsmanship competition.

Compared with national sacrifices and tower presentations, swordsmanship competitions are a little less solemn and a little more enthusiastic. After hard training, noble children can wear fancy clothes and show off their outstanding sword skills and elegant posture.

The audience will also send thunderous applause and large bouquets of flowers to the favorite contestants, which not only satisfies the young people's sense of honor, but also facilitates the elderly to find a suitable marriage partner - even if the title inherited by the other party is not noble,

The territory is not very broad, but as long as it shows enough glory, they are willing to include it in the family tree and cultivate it well.

Today is the last day of the sword competition. At this time in previous years, eight arrogant men who stood out from hundreds of contestants will compete for the championship under the watchful eye of the Black Emperor. The final winner will receive the emperor's blessing and the power to make a wish.

.But in order to increase the fun, some changes have taken place in this year's competition system: eight people have become eight teams, the individual competition has become a team competition, some people share the same hatred, some people are at war with each other, and some people have already set up gambling outside the stadium.

, sparing no effort to instigate the audience to use money to express their love for the team they support.

"Nonsense!" Trunsoest rebuked righteously: "How can you gamble on such a serious and solemn occasion?! Your Majesty, please allow me..."

"That's all, Lord Trunsoest." Solomon pressed his palms nonchalantly, "It's just a joke between juniors, right, Lord Bethel?"

"Thank you for your tolerance, His Majesty the Emperor." Duke Abraham, who turned a blind eye to the juniors running around with gambling boards, rarely sincerely praised the Black Emperor.

On the other side, Tudor was talking to the Red Angel.

"Why are you suddenly interested in coming to watch the game this year?"

Medici glanced at him lazily, "Let's see how the future pillar of the empire behaves stupidly."

Fortunately, Tuduo could continue without changing his expression: "You are right, this year's competition has strengthened the meaning of cooperation and competition. Smart people and stupid people can reveal their true nature faster."

Medici gave him a rather satisfied look, "Yes, this kind of team competition is more like the epitome of 'war', a collection of arts. It is much more interesting than the one-on-one showdown in previous years - it is more of a test of intelligence and physical strength.

, especially the awareness of the overall situation.”

If a good youngster emerges who has a bright mind and a strong body, but comes from a humble background and has nothing to rely on, War Red will not mind extending an olive branch.

"It sounds like Master Medici is very confident in his child."

"They should show wisdom that is in line with my blood, otherwise they will go to the north to grow potatoes." Remembering who is in charge of the north, Medici added: "Look back and remind Big Eyes, except for pickaxes

Don’t give me anything.”

"You are really good at joking." Tuduo laughed, "But you reminded me, why didn't you see the Hidden Sage?"

"In order to ensure that everyone can have a good viewing experience, He and Zaratul discussed attaching the Eye of Peeping to the Secret Puppet and linking the Eye of Peeping to several mirrors. Out of caution, He is proceeding one by one

Check whether these devices are functioning properly."

“It’s really admirable to be so hands-on.”

No, you are overthinking. Medici glanced at the Black Iron Throne. He just wanted to be out of sight and out of mind.

What fell was the white snow dancing with the wind.

Thousands of silver dots were woven into a spotless giant coat, covering the majestic back of the mountains - its name is Grotai, which means "shoulders of giants" in ancient language. This was supposed to be a morale booster for the half-giants.

The name has soared, but for more than a hundred years, the power of the God of War has never been able to take advantage in the north of the empire. The seemingly weak spying people can always drive them back to their own corners again and again, not to mention the hunters.

They will help out when they are in the mood, but this often means that they will be even more disgraced and smelling burnt when they retreat.

"It seems like a kind of irony to keep this ancient name hidden."

Adam thought so. He was walking alone, with the cold wind tearing his blond hair, ice particles catching his beard, and snow water seeping into his shoes and socks, but he didn't care, taking one step at a time like an ascetic on a pilgrimage.

Walking in footprints. It’s strange to say that some angels enjoy aged wine and delicacies at the banquet, while some angels have to trek through the ice and snow like ordinary people running for a living - this difference may make many people feel sad.

, but only Adam knew that he was feeling, reminiscing, and missing.

He even gave himself some hints. After all, for mythical creatures that were so tough that they were numb, the cold that would make humans shiver had become a luxury.

He thought of the indestructibility of ice. It condensed from the windows, hung from the eaves, and spread from the lake. If you were lucky, you could even see free ice ballet. The actress wearing a pearl hairpin was as strong as an eagle.

He jumped up lightly with an exclamation, and landed with a perfect 3a.

He thought of the softness and thickness of the snow, or being caught into snowballs and thrown at each other, or being built into a fortress for offensive and defensive battles, or being piled into a room for a tea party, or being piled into snowmen with iron tubes on their heads and carrot noses.

——In ancient times, ancestors shaped snow into the image of the goddess of winter and worshiped her, hoping to influence her hard-hearted heart.

He thought of the ruthless wind, cutting every inch of exposed skin like a blade, and like a long whip that beats sinners. When most people are oppressed and a small number enjoy glory, those who support the people are

The most evil people clamored to let the cold wind extinguish the sparks, but they never thought that a spark could start a prairie fire, and the flames turned into red flags and fluttered, and the embers dyed the night.

It would be great if this fire could keep burning.

Until now, He only remembers the ashes that seemed to be still warm, the ashes that were burned out.

Skoni Zaratul felt his hands and feet tremble a little. As a descendant of the most cunning families among the angel families, and as a master of secret puppets who is also very cunning, he should be more calm than his peers, but, but,

...!

But why would such a big shot come to personally interrogate their work?

"Let your secret partner fly twice over that quicksand landscape."

"Yes!" Skoni almost bit his tongue, but as a master of secret puppets, his fingers habitually moved faster than his brain, and he immediately pulled the string of the spirit body to make the sparrow secret puppet flap its wings. At the same time, on the side,

The smooth and shiny mirror, which was 1.8 meters high, also showed a piece of sand that seemed to be thick, but actually collapsed when stepped on. The nobles onlookers couldn't help but marveled, and Sconi's face couldn't help but feel a little hot.

"That's right, keep it this way." Just as Thoth was about to check the next mirror, a figure in black robes floated over like a ghost.

"Hidden Your Highness."

"Ancestor?!" Skoni was so frightened that he almost knelt on the ground. Thoth glanced at him helplessly, seeing what frightened the child, wasn't it just a historical projection... Oh, it turns out it wasn't.

"Lord Zaratul, why are you here?" Thoth couldn't hold back the disbelief in his tone for a moment, because in his impression, except for some major annual occasions, Zaratul would never use projection if he could.

Secret Puppet, if you can use it, you will never show yourself. All in all, you are very careful.

Zaratul smiled bitterly and said: "You are so hands-on that I couldn't help but feel ashamed sitting there, so I asked your majesty to allow me to temporarily excuse myself."

Thoth blinked guiltily. In fact, if he hadn't avoided Solomon, he would have wanted to go up and argue with Medici.

"Why are you so thoughtful? There are four mirrors over there. Let's go and have a look together?"

"Okay, please go first."

What rises is the mist of tea.

Just like a person who is about to freeze to death will feel hot, he thought of the Garden of Eden in an extremely cold place with the singing of birds and the fragrance of flowers. The mellow aroma of tea and the fragrance of flowers are intertwined. This kind of scene is not suitable for talking about conspiracy and games, but more suitable for talking about ordinary trivial matters.

Insignificant things.

No, maybe it's not that "irrelevant". Even if not even a single page of old history is left, the wisdom and truth it contains will not disappear. Fools will abandon it like worn-out shoes, and wise people will treat it with contempt.

Taste slowly.

"Absolute power corrupts absolutely."

After sighing for the extinguished flame, the Hidden Sage said this. Facing the Creator's approving gaze, the young god was a little stunned. He unconsciously scratched the wall of the cup with his fingers, "My dad always puts this sentence on his head.

Speaking of words, it’s probably the insights brought about by work…Have I mentioned his work?”

"You mentioned it." He took a sip of the tea, and the bitterness spread in his mouth. It would be great if they had faced this truth directly at that time, and established an organization with such a pair of eyesight, stifling greed, and self-purification.

"Whether it is a feudal dynasty or modern society, this principle is applicable. The founder of a country often works hard to govern, so absolute power will help him rule the country, but later on, the monarch begins to slack off, lazy, and treacherous officials

Gradually, most of the ministers who wanted to change the status quo were afraid of the emperor - or the power of the treacherous ministers who were acting on their behalf to make people's heads fall to the ground with just one sentence. So a dynasty was overthrown, and a new dynasty was built on its corpse. This has happened for thousands of years.

The drama of reincarnation is repeated...it is almost like a curse."

"Well, this is just my immature opinion. After all, there are many factors that can cause a dynasty to collapse."

"No, please continue, my friend." The Creator wanted to know what He thought, and wanted to know how far the little Bolshevik who took over the fire had gone.

"Since the founding of New China, some people of insight have discovered this problem. In order to prevent this curse and avoid the fate of being overthrown and invaded, one of our leaders put forward the concept of 'self-revolution'. My father's work

It is also closely related to this: through the operation of supervisory power, we constantly eliminate moths, fill in the gaps, sublimate thoughts, and ensure purity...that's about it."

It is precisely because a red line is drawn around the dark place that the everlasting fire can be reflected in the eyes of the masses.

"So I'm scared, Alec." The young god frowned uneasily, "I often hear my father describe how the poison of power corrodes the mind, and I don't think my morals are that high. My children trust me.

I respect me, but I'm afraid that they are so pious that they would turn a blind eye even if I did something wrong, or they would notice but dare not tell me, so I can only make mistakes again and again, becoming absurd and cruel.

I don’t know it. In this mysterious world, if people’s hearts are separated and their anchors are shaken, what awaits me will not be a gentle rebuke, but the criticism of foreign enemies.”

"I wonder, would I be a good god?"

In fact, what the Creator wanted to mention that day was the issue of the balance between secular power and religious power, because He noticed that belief in the Hidden Sage had become the general consensus of several city-states. After feeling the Hidden Sage's vigilance towards power,

The Creator has mixed emotions in his heart. He is happy that He will most likely not take the crazy and extreme path of medieval Catholicism and become a shackles to the progress of civilization. But he is worried about whether He can maintain his authority in front of his believers and competitors.

No matter what they think in their hearts, those in high positions must show an unquestionable attitude.

"You'd be a great god."

He had not yet decided how to say these words - a blessing or a prophecy? But the words of affirmation blurted out without waiting.