Although I felt that the count's order was very ridiculous. But Griffith didn't show it on his face.
After understanding the situation in this house, he began to think about a series of questions——
The noble councilors who hold power, the wizards who speak for the rules, and the wealthy businessmen who own wealth will all ask him to sacrifice a certain powerful group to the fire, so that others will not freeze to death in the increasingly cold room, and can also benefit from it. Escape from the prison.
So, are the Earl of Hill, the wizard Labienus, the wealthy businessmen and the common people present all real people? If this was a fabricated illusion of some kind of power, Griffith could have killed them all...
However, the problem is-
First of all, mysterious phenomena are like fables. They seem absurd, but they have their causes. They are either based on the human heart or originate from the collective unconscious. In any case, they are projections of reality.
Secondly, Griffith cannot determine whether they are just hallucinations created by the mysterious realm, nor can he ignore the political and reputational risks that may arise after leaving here.
If he throws the people in a certain seat to the fire and takes others to be freed from the realm. Then, after the survivor returns to reality, the rumors spread may put him in a disadvantageous situation.
Unfavorable publicity is secondary - after all, everyone present is in danger, and imminent threat to life and unknown mystery are a legitimate defense that can give Griffith and others a certain degree of justification for their cruel behavior. defend.
The more worrying concern comes from another aspect - Griffith's choice will reveal his political stance, and a clear preference for one of the noble councilors, wizards and merchants will make the other two classes wary of him. , not to mention Griffith's attempt to keep Tina and those ordinary people, which will completely offend people with power and wealth.
Even if he were willing to do so, even if he had the authority to make decisions in this particular situation, Griffith would have to worry about the future.
Griffith is not a trainee knight who has just returned from the battlefield, nor is he a soldier who silently follows orders. After that day on January 20, 1444, he was already thinking about whom he would fight for. After witnessing Roland's unimagined path and breaking free from Krista's tragedy, he was thinking about how to fight again.
All in all, I am a sword. The Kingdom, the Senate, the Arcane Council, and the wealthy people here all regard me as a sharp sword to execute their will. So do I have to behave as they want?
When Griffith thought, he was as calm and distant as a statue.
Earl Hill frowned: "Are you listening to me? Knight, you are the sword of the kingdom and the Senate. Remember your duty, otherwise, the power of the Senate will make you regret it.
"Throw those businessmen into the fire."
The count returned to his seat, and then the wizard Labienus came to talk to Griffith.
The wizard did not come directly to the main seat for an interview like the count, but led him to a side door not far away. It can be opened there. After entering, there is a small room with several tables and chairs, which is very private and quiet.
"The count does not know this place," said the wizard, "but I can interpret the hints of the fire and explore its secrets.
"Knight, look at the fire in the fireplace and tell me, what do you see?"
Griffith turned around and stared at the fire. He felt that the swaying flames were like some kind of living thing, and there was some will calling him in the dark. However, he couldn't hear it clearly and couldn't interpret it.
The wizard noticed the confusion on his face and couldn't help but smile: "As you can see, knight, this world is full of unknowns, and the boundaries of exploration are infinitely far away. We are trapped in this strange house and must be careful. If you are not careful, you will be in danger. Nobles who are extraordinary people and ordinary people who know nothing are unable to do this kind of thing.
"Compared with the monks and priests of the past, we do not blindly believe in gods. We understand mysteries better and are more creative. We are suitable for such a challenging era."
Griffith nodded, acknowledging the wizard's words.
"I think you must have not misunderstood the situation at hand," the wizard continued. "The mystery here tells us that in this small closed world, you must be in charge. If the rules of the world are that soldiers decide life and death, why Everyone thinks that the king, the Senate and the Arcane Council dominate the world? This is because without us, the world will lose order. Those mortals who cannot explore the mysteries throughout their lives, the wealth in their hands is just a false illusion, as long as one A bill, a war, and their so-called wealth evaporates like water mist. Only order and truth remain. Only we have the real power.
"Throw those merchants into the fire. Other mortals can also be used as phlogiston."
When Griffith returned to the living room with the wizard, he found that the place was in a mess.
The air became colder, frost even formed on the walls, and even Griffith shivered. Among the civilians standing in the corner, another one was burned to ashes, and another one froze to death. Tina, who was standing in the crowd, was pulling her cloak and shaking violently.
Seeing the door of the small room open, the businessmen and industrialists sitting in the middle seats swarmed up and blocked Griffith inside.
"What did the noble say? (What did the wizard say?)" they asked all at once, looking uneasy.
"Quiet," shouted Mr. Beble, the leader of the group and a shareholder in the shipping company. Everyone immediately became quiet.
"I know what they say," said Mr. Beble. "When the country had no money, they asked us to collect taxes; when we were about to freeze to death, they chopped us up for firewood. But, knight, you know, How powerful we are.”
"Is it more powerful than the elders and wizards?" the cotton mill owner asked in surprise.
"You go away, I'll talk to the knight.
"You guys, do what I assign you." Mr. Beble scolded, sent his companions away, walked into the house with Griffith, and closed the door.
Griffith and the shipping tycoon were the only two people left in the cabin. Knowing that the situation outside was already very urgent, the latter still said calmly.
"I am an ordinary person," Mr. Beble said straight to the point. "Before, I also considered taking magic potion to become an extraordinary person. That thing is not expensive and cannot be obtained. However, I did not do it in the end.
"After all, low-level Extraordinaries are too weak and are no more effective than a team of bodyguards. Not to mention the risks that come with it, such as hearing strange sounds and encountering ghosts. When I was young, I saw many people who became Poor monsters, they were once successful investors and beautiful socialites, but they lost everything just because of an arrogant idea and drank a potion that might make them stronger and more beautiful."
Griffith did not interrupt Mr. Beble, but listened to him. He felt that this gentleman was different.
“But, does this mean that I am weaker than the nobles, parliamentarians and wizards, and can I be slaughtered by them?
"No, it's impossible. In the past, fast ships on the sea had to use magic blessings to accelerate and strong hulls to withstand wind and waves. However, in recent decades, keels and hulls reinforced with wrought iron and metal have no longer been afraid of rocks. The steam engine Roland gave us makes the sea ships fly like the wind, and the coal used is far cheaper than magic circles and dust crystals. I dare say that it won’t be long before I replace all my fleet with iron ships that spit out thick smoke. Magic has to take a back seat.”
Mr. Beble looked into Griffith's eyes and said to him: "While I continue to convert my profits into new investments and expand my industry, what are the nobles and wizards doing?
"They are hunting and holding dance parties. A fox hound costs at least 8,000 silver francs. God be damned, the annual income of a tutor is only 1,200 silver langs. During the annual social season, dinners and cocktail parties are held every night , dances and plays, and also spend a lot of money to maintain their extraordinary abilities, and take knights and troops to fight in places where there is no profit. If they pay for these themselves, I have no objection.
"But Mr. Captain of the Second Assault Squadron, they have no money now. This time I came to Bijelland, they invited me. There are hundreds of factory owners, shipowners and businessmen from all over the country. The Kingdom is here The wars in Verona and Odessa burned hundreds of millions of silver francs, but did not make a few cents. Do you know that the fiscal deficit has reached an alarming level, but those nobles and wizards have to use our hard-earned money? We will use the money to subsidize them so that they can continue hunting without worries.”
Griffith didn't know much about these situations. However, he knew that the meetings he was going to attend with Sonia in the next few days would be attended by many wealthy businessmen from other provinces. This situation was different from the past.
The policies of Bjelan are determined by the king, the Senate, and the Arcane Council, and most merchants are not on the council's list.
"Actually, I have known that this day would come." Mr. Beble suddenly lowered his voice. "Someone reminded us that nobles and wizards will treat us as cows. They usually milk us and kill us when we are hungry." .
"I am not a beast to be slaughtered. We have been making preparations a long time ago. Mr. Captain of the Second Assault Squadron, I know that your identity does not allow you to take action directly. I am not asking you to do anything, I just hope that You remain neutral."
"Neutral?" Griffith asked in surprise.
"Yes, as long as you remain neutral," said the shipping tycoon, "in that small reception room outside, with everyone so close together, are our fists and daggers no match for dull swords and wands? They think we are weak, No courage. Actually...
"We have been preparing for a long time."
Griffith suddenly woke up. He listened to the movement in the living room and vaguely heard roars and screams coming from outside.
He rushed outside in a hurry.
"Wait!" Mr. Beble hugged him. But mortal strength was no match for the extraordinary knight, who hung on him like a koala and dragged him toward the drawing room.
"Don't go out! You will ruin everything! Listen to me!" Mr. Bebble shouted, "Think carefully, why did you choose to be the host of this strange house? The nobles, wizards and us, Are you here to kill one of us? If so, if you leave here and go back outside, will the others spare you?"
Griffith was stunned.
Mr. Beble, grasping at the glimmer of hope, shouted hastily:
"You are the host. According to the rules here, you are not the one who has the voting seat! As a soldier, can you decide who enters the furnace? Will the world have peace one day?"
"You want to stop the wheel of history from rolling forward, but how is it possible? The blood has already been shed. If it doesn't flow through, no one here can get out. Isn't the blood shed in vain?"
Griffith picked up Mr. Beble and threw him aside. But the latter refused to give up and still shouted: "When the dust settles, we need an enforcer and a protector!"
"Bang!"
Griffith kicked open the door and rushed into the reception room.
He saw the wizard being strangled with a belt, his eyes bulging outwards, Earl Hill's stomach being stabbed like a sieve, and his intestines dripping all over the floor. Bodies lay scattered on the ground. Others, not only those sitting on the couch in the middle, but also those originally gathered in the corners, were gasping for air, stained with blood, and huddled together.
"Who did it?" Griffith shouted. His voice was like thunder, and everyone took two steps back in fear.
There was silence in the drawing room. After a while, a small voice said:
"Didn't see clearly."
Another added:
"The murderer was also lying on the ground."
Finally, someone else said:
"Should we put them in the stove? Is there any fuel now?"
