“Heh…
rest assured, at least for now, aren’t I still alive and kicking?” Seeing this rare, adorable expression on Hysilens, Gwyn couldn’t help but smile, though his expression immediately turned serious, and his tone shifted abruptly.
“Compared to my injury, I would rather apologize first.” “?
Why are you apologizing to me?” Hysilens’s heart skipped a beat, and the worry on her lovely face turned into confusion.
“When we met Nikador earlier, I proposed that deal without discussing it with you first.” Gwyn sighed, “Because I didn’t know if that would be my only moment to propose this idea, so…
I’m sorry.” “So that’s what it was.” Upon hearing this, Hysilens’s expression relaxed, and she shook her head gently.
“If it weren’t for you, I might have overlooked this point, or even realized it was possible to do so.
Besides, you did this to better resist the Black Tide.” “Hmm…
it’s getting late, shall we have dinner together?” Seeing that Hysilens’s attention had been diverted, Gwyn glanced at the sky outside the window and asked with a smile.
“Hmm, sure.” Hysilens looked at Gwyn’s smile and nodded with a smile of her own.
After a full meal, Gwyn began to explain his plan to Hysilens.
“There is a tradition in the City of Xuanfeng: if someone can emerge victorious in the Hanging Blade Festival and defeat the old King, they can bathe in the blood of the old King and ascend the throne as the new King.” “Must one really bathe in blood?” Hysilens asked, her brows slightly furrowed as she listened to Gwyn’s description, sounding somewhat hesitant.
“Of course not, that’s just a figure of speech.” Seeing that this was what Hysilens was focused on, Gwyn shook his head and chuckled lightly.
“The point is to defeat the opponent; as for bathing in blood, it’s more of a metaphor.” “Hmm.” Hysilens nodded, her expression returning to calm.
But after meeting Gwyn’s gaze for a moment, Hysilens felt that she shouldn’t just have that reaction, so she asked another question: “Do you want me to seize the throne of the City of Xuanfeng?” “Yes, at least while Nikador is still in its prime, this system of succession can be implemented.
By winning the Hanging Blade Festival, we can legitimately influence and control this city-state, which possesses the greatest military power in Amphoreus.” Gwyn nodded and asked in a deep voice, “Are you willing to participate in the Hanging Blade Festival?” Hysilens’s core issue lay in avoiding problems and avoiding making decisions.
To change this, one needed to start small, letting her begin and get used to making decisions, even if at first they were just leading, binary questions.
“Hmm, I’ll listen to you.” Hysilens nodded, without any hesitation.
“Well, after that, we will first proceed as we have in the past, launching wars to break the city-states on the edge of the continent, forcing them away from the lands about to be eroded by the Black Tide…
Among them, there might be some city-states that worship Fagina, but our goal is to better resist the Black Tide.
Regarding this point, are you…
able to accept it?” “There are still city-states in the world that worship Fagina?” Hysilens blinked, surprised.
“…” Gwyn looked at Hysilens’s surprised expression, blinked blankly, and became a bit uncertain himself.
“There should be—the war between the City of Xuanfeng and the coastal city-states has a long history and has not stopped to this day, and there should be many coastal city-states that worship Fagina; there should still be many now.” “…” Hearing the reason Gwyn gave, Hysilens lowered her eyes slightly, looking somewhat troubled—compared to attacking those city-states, she wanted to know more whether those city-states had the endless feasts promised by Fagina.
“…” Seeing Hysilens remain silent, Gwyn knew she was hesitant, and perhaps even psychologically inclined towards those coastal city-states.
He gathered his thoughts and asked, “Hysilens, do you know how the beautiful Golden Age in stories turned into the current Age of the Strife, where war is everywhere?” “Because…
at the beginning of the Age of the Strife, Nikador forged the world’s weapons, seeking to take the heads of the pillar Titans?” Pulling her thoughts back from her imagination, Hysilens answered somewhat hesitantly—she had heard people say this before.
“That is the reason passed down by word of mouth, but it is not the fundamental cause.” “What is the fundamental cause?” Hysilens asked, unusually eager.
“It is the human heart—” Gwyn tapped his own chest.
“As time passed, nobles and the Council of Elders gradually emerged in the various city-states.
Once their positions were solidified, they began to vie for power with the priests who conveyed the divine oracles.
To seize power, the former would create all sorts of incidents to suppress the priests, and even unite with foreign states to obtain high positions.
And the greed in the human heart is endless; once they stand at the pinnacle of their own city-state, they want the wealth and power of other city-states, to rule over more people, and to obtain more treasures.
The land, which was originally as peaceful and tranquil as the seabed, gradually turned into what it is today.
And Nikador only became the target of public opinion because of the strength of the City of Xuanfeng and its strikes against other Titans.
In fact, even without Nikador, the world would have gradually shifted from the Golden Age to the Age of the Strife.
One could even say that the appearance of Nikador kept the wars on this land at a certain intensity, rather than becoming even more unbearable, for example…” Gwyn tried to let Hysilens gradually understand the source of the suffering of this land.
“Hmm…
so are those coastal city-states like that now too?” Hysilens asked after a moment of silence, not knowing how much she had taken in.
“I have not been there, so I cannot be certain, but this is a common phenomenon in all the city-states of the continent, and the coastal states are likely no exception.
Especially since…
Fagina has fallen in order to resist the Black Tide, the priests of the coastal city-states have likely already corrupted themselves—” “What do you mean?” The Siren Princess, who could run to Fagina’s knees to cry because she didn’t have the beautiful singing voice of her clansmen, didn’t quite understand what Gwyn meant.
“Let me give you an example—”
Maybe it’s not a big deal now… maybe it will be later.
“And If you’re enjoying it, drop a Power Stone for me!”