Chapter 191: The 'Blinded' Cyclops
"You can withdraw the mercenaries lying in ambush around us; they are likely the hands you rely on most," Theresa said slowly as she looked at Scarface.
"This is out of respect for the Demon King. After all, besides that general, no one can truly understand your thoughts."
Scarface bowed his head to Theresa and said, "Your Highness, do you truly believe that you can change the fate of the Sarkaz this way? Are you not merely another set of pathetic souls caught in an endless cycle?"
"Once the dust settles, you will naturally have your answer."
Theresa knew exactly what he was talking about. After all, he was a Cyclops; it was only natural for him to know a little more.
"After that pyrrhic victory, we built that mobile city from scratch. It has traveled across the lands of the Sarkaz for over a century."
"We can avoid Catastrophes and foreign armies, and we have finally developed production that is barely self-sufficient. But it is far from enough. When a storm is already brewing on the horizon, we are far too slow to react, like an old beast of burden that cannot lift its feet."
Scarface smiled upon hearing this. "You are referring to the war between Leithanien and Gaul."
"Presumably, you already know to what extent that war developed back then."
Theresa's tone was full of helplessness. "Corsica I even secretly hired our Royal Court Casters as his advisors. Yet, after a long period of silence, the Witch King of Leithanien suppressed Gaul's vanguard offensive the moment he first intervened."
"And now, several decades have passed, and the development of those war machines has become even more despair-inducing."
"Back then, it was already a pyrrhic victory. If the Kazdel of today must face the same predicament again, what will the outcome be?"
"Then, Your Highness, do you remember what I told you the last time you and the general came here to liberate the slaves?" Scarface smiled and spoke with a hint of ease in his voice.
"Of course," Theresa felt it was somewhat strange. "I remember everything."
At this, Scarface recalled that meeting decades ago.
'So, you want a so-called Kazdel Military Commission?'
That was how he had questioned the merciful Demon King before him back then.
"The Old Royal Court Faction, those who refuse to give up their privileged lives within the city, are actually still disgruntled, believing you are trying to lay hands on the prerogatives they enjoy."
At that time, Theresa's gaze was firm. "A century of stability has been enough for them to temporarily forget a few things."
"Then what is the matter that is worth Your Highness condescending to come here personally? Do you treat the Scar Market as another Royal Court where the commoners amuse themselves to make a living?"
"I simply hope that more Sarkaz can join us in opposing the voices blinded by the old order."
Scarface smiled. "Your Highness, I suspect what you mean is intimidation and purging."
Theresa shook her head. "There is no need for total extermination."
"And the reward?"
Scarface shrugged. "The Scar Market isn't a real Royal Court. We can't directly command any mercenaries. We are all partners; without money, I can't persuade anyone to contribute their efforts."
"Reward?"
The Demon King let out a scoff. "The wealth and power you've seized from the flames of war, the delicacies that should have been used to reward the impoverished city-states—have they satisfied your appetite?"
"Though you once spoke with such righteousness, saying the Scar Market provides sanctuary and a way of life for countless Sarkaz warriors... the sound of you crushing their bones still echoes through this deep hollow."
Scarface remained indifferent to the accusation. "I'm sorry, but in this line of work, one must eat people without spitting out the bones."
"Scarface," Theresa called him by his name, "you are also a Sarkaz, and a part of Kazdel."
Theresa could not see Scarface's expression under his mask, but the emotions of the man before her were laid bare beneath her Black Crown.
The Royal Court—an entity that ordinary people living in Kazdel would never dare to defy in their entire lives.
But from his emotions, Theresa saw nothing but fanaticism and bloodthirst.
"You will not refuse."
"Why would I refuse? Would I be afraid of their retaliation? To me, the Royal Court holds no mystery, Your Highness; you know that very well."
Scarface narrowed his eyes. "Furthermore, Your Highness... you have indeed promised me the best reward."
"I can 'see' what kind of chaos you will bring to Kazdel. Chaos will make us stronger."
Theresa frowned. "Since you still use the name 'Scar,' it means you are still clinging to the ideas of the past."
"You said it yourself; the strength of the nations of Terra has advanced by leaps and bounds over the past century. Even if we burn a few dry Dead Souls to make the furnace fire burn brighter, we cannot bridge this gap."
Scarface spoke slowly, "Then why must we force everyone, whose races are already different, into a single rope, call them Sarkaz, and then build a massive target called Kazdel?"
"The war between those four great powers proved that the nations accept our existence in the form of mercenaries. The Scar Market simply provides the channel for them."
Scarface smiled. "You also know that the mercenary brokerage became a community, a town, because too many people couldn't integrate into those Royal Court societies filled with power-worship and bloodline theories."
"In all these years, the Sarkaz who have managed to find a new way of life with my help are not necessarily fewer than those under the command of the six heroes."
"I'm not the least bit ashamed to say that, Demon King."
Theresa did not answer. She only smiled as she looked at the Cyclops in front of her.
Ah. Scarface suddenly thought that the Demon King before him belonged to no Royal Court and represented no specific bloodline.
She was simply trying to persuade a group of Sarkaz who refused to believe that Kazdel could be established—those who had even committed crimes toward that end.
...But could such a person truly succeed in escaping those tragedies? Escaping the end that he had seen?
"Speaking of which, there is one thing I don't understand, Your Highness, although I have agreed to help you..."
Scarface was still confused. Being able to see the future did not mean he could see through the human heart. "But why don't you and General Theresis just raze this place to the ground today? If you wanted to act, I would have no chance of winning."
"Just like you did sixty years ago."
The Demon King before him had been a mere seamstress before accepting the crown, but no one would doubt her strength.
Theresa's position as the Demon King was won through bloody battles amidst the siege of four nations.
"You just said that Kazdel is only a target," Theresa said slowly. "You want to attach yourselves to the other nations of this vast land in different ways."
Scarface nodded. "Yes."
"Then, in your far-reaching prophecies, did you see the destruction of Kazdel?"
Theresa asked with a smile, "Did you see my death, the death of Theresis, and the destruction of the things you resent?"
Scarface only remained silent.
Theresa continued, "What about yourself? What does the scenery of your own death look like? Dying in agony under the torment of Oripathy? Or dying on a battlefield in a foreign land, or drowning in conspiracies and schemes?"
"Have you ever left this place to see the Kazdel of today?"
"Have you ever truly seen the future?"
Scarface was quite helpless. He knew that what he knew was worthless to this Demon King, but he still had to speak. "......My prophecies come with a price. Of course, since it's you, I'd consider a discount, Your Highness."
"Impressive courage. No wonder you were able to rebuild a paradise for mercenaries in this barren land."
Theresa shook her head. "But there is no need for a prophecy."
"Prophecies and fate are both worthless. The hour is late; I look forward to the moment you return to Kazdel."
Ah, yes. Scarface remembered that meeting decades ago clearly. How high-spirited the Demon King had been back then.
But what about now?
He looked at Theresa. "You are deeply troubled, Your Highness."
"Yes." She was clearly still the same Demon King with the same unchanging face, but after decades, an almost imperceptible trace of fatigue had appeared on her.
"Do you remember what I told you during our last meeting?" Scarface said slowly. "My prophecies come with a price."
"I also remember saying that prophecies and fate are worthless," Theresa said flatly. "What, has the Cyclops truly seen the future now?"
She assumed the Sarkaz before her wanted to use a prophecy to dissuade her.
Very much the style of a Cyclops.
"No, you are wrong, Your Highness." Scarface shook his head, the confusion in his eyes no longer concealable. "I indeed once saw the future, but that is already in the past."
"Now, there is only a patch of unknown chaos in my eyes. I can no longer see the future."
"Oh?" Hearing this piqued Theresa's interest. She briefly used the Black Crown to sense his state and detected the confusion, panic, and incomprehension within the old Cyclops's heart.
In other words, he was not lying.
"Why?"
"I don't know," Scarface said very candidly. "I truly do not know. Don't look at me with that kind of gaze, Your Highness."
"I'm not sure how it is for other Cyclopes, but I at least have completely lost the ability to prophesy."
"However... it's not like there are no clues." Scarface narrowed his eyes and looked at Theresa. "I saw a ship, one of those mobile vessels from the outsiders, and a very blurred name."
"Rhodes Island."
Hearing this, Theresa looked into his eyes thoughtfully.
He wasn't lying.
"So, Your Highness, what on earth have you done?" Scarface's tone carried an unprecedented sense of bewilderment. "Rhodes Island... Babel..."
"Decades ago, you and that general entered my Scar Market in tacit agreement and took away all the slaves to form the Military Commission, uniting the Royal Court with the bottom-tier Sarkaz."
"Back then, Your Highness, you were very firm."
"But now? It's a bit rude to say, but look at yourself now. Are you truly going to break with your own brother of the same womb?"
"No one wants it to come to this, Scarface," Theresa shook her head and looked outside.
There, someone was waiting with a sword.
"Decades ago, you and your brother came to me with the same goal, putting a sword to my throat and forcing me to agree to your plan," Scarface chuckled at this point. "But today?"
"Prince Theresis's blade... isn't pointed at me this time."
"You seem to be looking forward to our split?" Theresa tilted her head and asked.
"How should I put it... half and half," Scarface answered seriously. He was not lying, because he knew that in front of that black crown, no one could lie.
"If the Demon King and the Military Commission split, then my Scar Market will undoubtedly flourish during the war. This is naturally a good thing for me."
"But you and Prince Theresis... after all, you were once heroes of the Sarkaz. Although kin-slaying is common for the Sarkaz, it is still a great pity."
"So, Your Highness, what exactly happened?"
Previously, although the two sides had disagreed, they hadn't had any conflicts on the surface.
But now...
"The Victorians have gone mad for some reason," Theresa sighed and said. "A Duke sent a letter inviting Kazdel to Londinium. The tone was very urgent."
"As mercenaries?" Scarface was stunned.
"Yes, as mercenaries."
"Have the Victorians lost their minds?" Scarface couldn't understand. "He isn't inviting a band of Sarkaz Mercenaries; he is inviting Kazdel, right?"
"I do not wish to participate in this war," Theresa nodded, agreeing with the other's assessment, and then said, "The Sarkaz have already shed enough blood."
"But clearly, most people don't think that way." Scarface had seen everything. "Let me guess: your brother must be very interested in this proposal, right?"
"Once the Military Commission intervenes in Kazdel, no one can predict the chain reaction that will be triggered," Theresa looked at Scarface. "So, I have come."
"To stop your brother from taking away more mercenaries?" Scarface shook his head. "But you should understand, as mercenaries... they naturally stand on the opposite side of you."
"Your Highness, you shouldn't have come here. You should go to those small peripheral tribes, to the side of the bottom-tier Sarkaz who can't eat or dress well. Your prestige among them is second to none."
"But the people here are also Sarkaz," Theresa looked outside. "Perhaps... someone is willing to come with me."
"...Mercy has never been a necessary quality for a Demon King," Scarface sighed.
"But constant war will only dry up the blood of the Sarkaz," Theresa shook her head.
"Londinium is a place of shifting clouds and hidden depths. Several Archdukes are eyeing that position. If we go, we will only become pawns for them to crush each other, shedding blood for the Victorians in vain."
"Sigh." Scarface shook his head. "Your Highness, I cannot help you."
"Yes, I know," Theresa nodded. "Go and post a notice."
"See if anyone is willing to go and pioneer the wilderness with me."
Hearing this, Scarface breathed a sigh of relief.
It seemed that the two Highnesses themselves did not have the resolve to completely break apart yet.
★ ★ ★
T/N: If you spot mistranslation, do tell me.
★ ★ ★
Shilling time!
Members of my [email protected]/quickinquickout can read advanced chapters on quick-tl(dot)com—and even customize translated terms to match their preferred names and terminology!