Chapter 34 809M30

Chapter 34 809.M30

Morse chose to walk to the Grand Theater on his own.

This is not because he is diligent and energetic and is willing to burn the calories he consumes by walking, but he does not dare to use any means of transportation that Lokos currently uses to move around the streets, making loud noises and excessive bumps. Compliment.

He avoided the crowds of people, kept the loud music away from his quiet-loving ears, and also avoided the excessively bright direct sunlight. He shuttled between slightly darker shadows until the outline of the Grand Theater appeared completely before his eyes.

The combination of gold, jade and white stone makes the ring-shaped structure dazzling. The main entrance of the theater is carved with pure transparent spar to reflect light and shadow, while several side entrances are hidden in hidden visual blind spots, making the theater as a whole unique. While making it appear more complete and complete, it also helps visitors to relieve their psychological pressure and leave appropriate vacancies.

In the early years, Morse walked on the streets and could often hear people boasting about the brilliance of the Grand Theater everywhere; later, Perturabo made the Grand Theater more stylish every year, and in recent years, Lokos Whether it is meetings, courts, assemblies, performances, art, or celebrations, they all have to be held in this huge civil facility. Instead, citizens have gradually become accustomed to the existence of this amazing thing, turning it into an indispensable embellishment in their lives. I pass by its main entrance carrying fruits and vegetables every day.

Nowadays, only foreigners from far away can express deep shock and surprise when they see the theater.

As for what the Lokos people are talking about now, it is actually the latest automatic water circulation creative public bathhouse built in Perturabo.

Morse stepped into the theater and found his seat - obviously, when the Tyrant's family was seated, the empty seat made of vines and gold wire next to Perturabo would not belong to anyone else.

He originally had the boring idea of ​​sitting down quietly and frightening Perturabo, but Perturabo discovered him at the first moment. The young man pushed aside the dancing crowd between the columns, placed the wine glass in his hand on the passing table, and walked straight towards him.

Perturabo wore light armor and didn't eat much, which was incompatible with the entire festive atmosphere. His melancholy and thoughtful nature makes his seriousness as eye-catching as steel. I am afraid that even if fairies from the mountains and rivers offer him wine, he will only overturn the banquet of the gods.

After all these years, Perturabo never became a true Lokos, or even an Olympian.

But Morse never saw anything wrong with that. He waved to the young man and asked him to sit down, and couldn't help but wonder how tall Perturabo would be now if he hadn't stripped him of his extraordinary abilities.

In another vision, the indescribable energy that constitutes Perturabo's form is erupting with extremely dazzling light from time to time. This is the visual proof of his infinite potential and majestic essence, and it was also designed by Morse for him. The external phenomenon that the chains will be naturally released.

"How?" Morse asked. "Have you thought about your speech yet?"

Perturabo nodded and sat on his seat - another steel instrument, cold and huge, the exquisite design style blended with the coldness of the iron stone itself, and at the same time, it also more clearly highlighted the relationship between Perturabo and The whole joyful scene is different.

After he sat down, thanks to the height of the steel seat itself, he was finally half a head taller than Morse.

"I don't need a speech," Perturabo said, staring at Morse. "This will be an announcement."

"Is this sentence part of your performance?" Morse grinned, picked up an unnamed fruit from the table in front of him, held it in his hand and admired its red skin.

"No." Perturabo said, and then the young man looked away and devoted more energy to observing the people in the theater. During this period, a soldier sent a short note to Perturabo, which caused a brief flash of anger on the young man's face, and then he replaced it with a calmness after disappointment.

Morse didn't ask.

As Perturabo grew up, he increasingly lost interest in participating in everything in Olympia: it was nothing more than a duel between humans and humans.

He had planned to return to his mountains and trees after Perturabo's natural power returned in the future, and occasionally listen to the changing situation in Olympia in order to write a sequel to his play.

Calliphon raised his glass to them demurely from a distance across the theater's circular stage, followed by the tyrant and his two sons. It's almost equivalent to some kind of prologue where a conductor raises his hands and looks toward the orchestra.

The tyrant grasped his scepter and stood up with the tip of the scepter touching the ground. The attendant immediately handed the miniature loudspeaker invented by Perturabo into his hand.

The ruler's breathing quickly spread throughout the theater, and through the theater's efficient and exquisite sound transmission structure, it rang clearly in the ears of all those who came to participate in the ceremony.

"Our revered Lord of the Legion, the Iron Blade and Steel Scythe of Lokos, will be christened today." Damex gave a powerful pause, bringing more attention and ritualistic silence to Inside the amphitheater.

He continued: "Ten years ago, he came to Lokos, and his choice brought glory to Lokos. Now, he wants to make his name even more glorious."

"For thousands of years, the Lokos people have cast themselves under the shadow of glory in the name of great men. We inherit the names of our ancestors and heroes as if we inherited their glory. Some of you may still remember that my name comes from My ancient ancestor, my eldest son chose his name from one of the founders of Lokos."

"This inertia made me never imagine that a person, a glorious, noble person who would change Lokos, would refuse an inscription that had been engraved in stone tablets, statues and history before the arrival of our legion leader."

Perturabo sat up straighter.

The tyrant took a breath, fully paving the way for what he was about to say: "And now, I have to admit my limitations with guilt."

"When I went to his workshop," Damex deliberately avoided mentioning the name for the time being, "I respectfully asked him which hero of Lokos he would inherit a name from. I let him know what great achievements our ancestors had made, and how our glory was passed down from generation to generation."

"And the answer the legion lord gave me is unforgettable to me. He said: His achievements will be greater than any hero, and his greatness will be greater than any previous one. "

"Who is qualified to change his real name? Why can't his real name be the most dazzling one among heroes, inherited by future generations? He was born extraordinary, not because of his noble birth, but because of the welfare he brought to Locus and the peace he will bring to Olympia. "

"Now, it's time to choose your name, our lord of soldiers, lord of banners, lord of craftsmen and makers of all things."

The tyrant raised his cup high to Perturabo and drank it all. The tyrant's children applauded one by one, and Calliphon's smile was particularly conspicuous.