The Secret Code of Monsters

Chapter 726: Dragon Sect

If it were someone else, in any other situation, this question would be somewhat 'ignorant' - Roland understood Herrera's concerns.

It is natural for a believer or Holy Flame who has ideals, but not lofty ones, to be disappointed with the Inquisition of the past (or present): they have been abandoned not only by their brothers and sisters and their own Chief Judge, but what has actually abandoned them is their faith.

Although he never mentioned it from beginning to end.

Everyone present could see it.

According to Ms. Blade, Jerez is a person as 'naive' as Fernandez.

"I don't like this naivety, Roland. Political ambition and a future truly worth pursuing usually require people who are far from ideal."

the next day.

Ignore the two drunken men snoring in bed.

Blade, Cinder, and Roland woke up early and wandered around the town.

The mornings here are fresher.

London has long been rotten.

"I don't understand you, ma'am."

Roland was not wearing his religious uniform.

The early morning in the coastal town was still a little chilly, so he put on an extra small cloak.

Shandel was on the other side of Roland. When Blade talked about Fernandez and Jerez, the gray-haired girl also cast a curious look at her face - Miss Library was not very clear about this topic.

“Power is cruel.”

The woman held a cigarette between her teeth and looked at the women passing by and the children walking barefoot in the mud.

"It's just like the game between the church and the man in the palace. In essence, it has nothing to do with good or bad, nor is it a matter of justice or evil. There should be no cultists on both sides of this war without the smoke of gunpowder, let alone the so-called 'trial'."

"The church wants to maintain its theocracy."

"Victoria wanted to go in the opposite direction, using the power of political parties and Darwin to weaken the influence of the church to a certain extent. This was not something that could be achieved overnight. It required a long struggle, constant compromise, pulling or testing, and gradually moving the scale that had perhaps never fluctuated for thousands of years."

The woman spoke calmly.

Her purpose in talking about this to two people who were too young was obvious.

It takes too long and a gradually dying heart that is not afraid of pain to learn and understand the dirtiest but most hopeful part of this world through repeated collisions.

“That’s the nature of power and politics.”

"Like the Holy Flame that has reached its end - cold and cruel."

Shandel and Roland were thoughtful.

Frankly, Wrench has made similar jokes before.

Roland had no answer at the time.

"…about the train, right?"

Blade was stunned: "What?"

"I mean, a friend of mine once told me about a train problem. Is that... like this?" Roland thought for a moment and repeated the question to the woman: "One train, two tracks."

Five people on each side.

One person on each side.

Blade listened quietly and smiled: "Good question, Collins. In fact, you have hit the nail on the head - a good monarch, the gentlemen involved in the decision-making of this "Imperial Ship", can only choose "one person" to be correct. "

Roland nodded: "You mean, kill a few people and let the majority survive."

"Of course, Collins. Do you think this has something to do with good and evil? Or does it have something to do with cultists, judgment, and the Holy Flame?"

There was a barely perceptible hint of sarcasm in the woman's smile.

“Guess what Fernandez will choose?”

Shandel held Roland's arm and spoke in a clear voice.

"Get in front of the train."

Blade gave her a startled look.

"You really know your captain, Kratov. Yes, Fernandez, or Jerez, or other 'pious' executors in the Inquisition - I think they will make the same choice."

"Actually, that wasn't an option in the question, and that's a really sneaky way to put it."

If we were to answer the question in this way, it would be better to say that the people on both tracks had completed a grand ceremony and were not afraid of being crushed.

"That's what I'm saying."

“It is essentially a cold choice without the warmth of conscience. It requires calmness, even cruelty, logic, and precise judgment—but there should never be a person with an ideal who uses his burning mind to decide the direction.”

The two young men understood what she meant.

"It seems that you don't like Mr. Devinson very much," said Shandel, his eyes twinkling, "but the Holy Flame is destined to be like this."

"To be honest, I quite like him."

Blade shrugged, walked past a roadside stall, and paid for two bags of French fries and fried cod for Roland and Cinder.

——She won it from the gamblers in the tavern last night.

"I just don't like the way some people say it. It makes me think of someone who is as stupid as a donkey."

The woman lifted her hair and blew out a long, thin stream of mist.

"That's the kind of person Keshhai is."

Breaking away from the Inquisition, forming the "Holy Flame", and carrying out so-called "punishment" and "judgment" - in Blade's view, only a very, very small part of this world can be judged by "justice" and "evil", "darkness" and "light".

A very small portion.

As small as the unmined slit of a twelve-year-old girl.

For the vast majority of the rest, it is difficult for you to judge.

It usually depends on which track you are on.

Or in the car.

Hatred, forgiveness, joy, pain.

It all comes from here.

"That doesn't sound very interesting."

Roland held a French fry in his mouth and walked closer to the harbor. The stronger sea breeze made him look even paler.

"This world is boring and full of trouble, Collins. I'm afraid you are also one of those who stand in front of the car?"

"No, I'm from the Dragon Clan."

"What?"

"Wouldn't it be more interesting if the two tracks were tied with six dragons instead of people?"

Blade laughed.

"You're making trouble for the people who make the choices! Bad boy!"

"'This world is boring and full of troubles', right?"

…………

…

The salty sea breeze carries the smell of burning coal.

The morning mist has been torn into wisps by the sunlight.

The shirtless porters muttered curse words as they loaded standard wooden boxes onto the wide carts docked at the port. The short man in the striped suit held a gold-plated pocket watch in his hand, lowered his head from time to time, and scolded those who were slow and lazy.

Shandel covered her nose with a handkerchief to avoid the sweaty workers, and before Blade became interested in the fishing rod, she pulled Roland to the other side of the dock.

Here there is the lady holding a parasol and wearing pearl ornaments, her husband traveling with her, the painter sitting casually on the stone, painting in the morning light, and the curly-haired gentleman walking his brown curly dog ​​- the longitude and latitude of society are invisible but precise.

"A brief date."

Shandel held Roland's arm and, like other couples, they strolled slowly along the stone railing.

"You wouldn't fall in love with a woman like this, would you?"

She stared at him like a magnifying glass covered with a layer of human skin, as if the meaning of life was to understand every inch of the person in front of her, every breath and the emotions hidden in the eyes under the blinking eyelashes - she wanted to know, and if she couldn't, she would cut open his belly to see clearly.

"I thought you were going to ask about trains."

Shandel laughed: "That's not a problem, my love. For me, the only thing that bothers me is how to crush the people on both tracks at the same time - I mean, should you keep your distance from her?"

Roland squeezed her soft hand, pressed down the brim of his hat, and made a dirty joke.

"It has been in your mouth for more time than it has been with me, Shandel. You don't have to use me as an excuse if you hate someone. I don't believe you can't see how Lady Blade treats us."

Shandel looked charming and opened her mouth.

Roland heard overlapping sounds.

Mixed in the sea breeze.

"Hello, my fellow countrymen."

Someone leaned over his shoulder and said.