dmims Chapter 19 Do You Really Love Troy, Hector?
Chapter 19 Do You Really Love Troy, Hector?
On the strike cruiser USS Executioner.
Salpedon, Achilles, Paris, Patroclus, and Apollo were among the most outstanding and age-appropriate contenders in this duel.
They caught the eye of the legion's pharmacists and company commanders.
When Holmes, with a trembling heart, found Hector engrossed in handling state affairs, he handed him the news that Paris had requested the Legion to transform him into an Astartes, and that the first organ and second heart had been successfully and remarkably well-suited to him.
Hector calmly accepted the report from Holmes and chatted with his sons with a smile.
But then Hector stopped talking to his offspring, his body jolting, clearly having seen words he didn't want to see.
Hector's expression shifted between light and shadow as he sat up straight and read the text word by word.
Then Holmes saw Hector put down the report with a gloomy expression.
A second later, a punch that even Holmes couldn't see clearly was thrown. Only a series of afterimages remained in the air, and the table that had served the royal family for three hundred years became history. It shattered in the middle, and wood chips and gold dust flew like snow.
Then Holmes watched as his genetic father got up, walked over, and kicked him in the chest.
Holmes flew out and became embedded in the palace floor.
Hector maintained his last shred of restraint, and Holmes, apart from some damage to his power armor, was completely unharmed.
First, the legion guards responsible for the protection heard the noise, and the little cans rushed in nervously.
"go out!"
Hector resembled a furious lion, with fierce and piercing eyes.
The little cans had just opened the door and hadn't even had a chance to speak when they heard the father of genes roar angrily.
The Legion's guards nimbly rolled out and blocked the mortal troops of the Trojan Second Guard, who, having also heard the roar, obediently slowed their pace.
The little can and the mortal stared at each other, then obediently closed the door and stood at the entrance.
They heard something being smashed repeatedly, and Hector's shouts of angrily rebuking Holmes and Paris.
"Get Paris to come see me!"
When the Legion's guards were allowed to enter, the interior was already in ruins, and the First Company Commander, Holmes, was kneeling quietly on the ground.
No one knows what happened afterward, but Hector eventually agreed to let Paris become an Astartes.
Upon returning, their former legion commander immediately summoned all the apothecaries, Moriarty, and legion soldiers responsible for recruit selection involved in the incident to the octagon.
The duel lasted for several days and nights, until Holmes roughly grabbed Moriarty's arm.
The cunning Holmes produced a cane from somewhere and began to beat Moriarty mercilessly, nearly activating the dormant meninges, the organ at the top of Moriarty's cerebral cortex that had been in a state of apparent death.
.........
.........
When the Legion's Royal Guard found Paris in the recruits' private compartment aboard the Executioner strike cruiser.
Their nominal uncle was lying soundly asleep on the sturdy steel bed, without any burden whatsoever.
Despite being a prince, he didn't find the conditions in the legion to be poor at all, and slept very neatly and quietly.
The two soldiers exchanged a glance.
Inside the Executioner's passageway, the mortal auxiliary troops and Astartes watched with complex expressions as two legion guards carefully carried Paris at a steady, rapid pace, as if he were being carried on a stretcher.
"I am the victor, the elder brother."
"I, Laurel, I," Paris murmured silently in his sleep.
Living in this recurring fantasy.
He looked at his brother's proud and honored face in his sleep, and watched his brother personally place the laurel wreath on his head, wrap him in purple and gold silk, and declare him to be his brother, the first warrior of Troy.
Paris will forget, he will forget the deep disappointment suppressed in his brother's eyes beneath his comforting tone.
Paris would forget the glory of Achilles' victory, and forget that his brother had personally crowned his opponent with the laurel wreath.
He made a promise, but it didn't have a perfect ending.
He thought his confidence could overcome all obstacles.
When an unknown nobleman told Achilles that he would become a new recruit in the Legion of Dawn, one of the giants, and fight alongside his brother in the galaxy, basking in glory.
Paris's jealousy, Paris's hatred, and Paris's yearning drive him to once again conceal his ambition from his brother and aspire to become a Dawnbringer.
The apothecary recognized Paris, but the apothecary community was more extreme than ordinary warriors.
Instead of reporting it directly, they assumed that their uncle, Prince Paris, also wanted to become a glorious, noble warrior fighting for humanity and for the Emperor.
Furthermore, the surgical risk of implanting a second heart is the lowest, and it doesn't matter if subsequent surgeries are abandoned.
So, they took it upon themselves to implant a second heart in Paris.
"Brother, brother..."
Paris is still asleep.
Hector's face, which had been suppressing anger, saw Paris's innocent face and heard Paris calling out in his sleep.
Anger turned into silence, and silence became a long, silent sigh.
He stood beside Paris. From this perspective, Paris, now a boy, still looked like the little, wrinkled baby crying in his father Priam's arms fifteen years ago.
The father carefully handed Paris to him. The little crumpled boy's wailing gradually subsided after seeing him, and he fell asleep peacefully, just as he is now.
"Everyone should have their own choices, child." Priam said, wearing a simple robe.
After learning what had happened here, Priam came here from his own palace.
"But Father, Troy cannot lose Paris. He needs to become the new ruler of Troy, and his children will also become the new rulers."
"Father, I must leave Troy eventually."
Hector looked at his father Priam's shaved head.
His white hair had been shaved off. Since that meeting with the Emperor, Priam, despite Hector's stern opposition, firmly chose to believe in the Emperor.
This is also the main reason why Hector never had a good impression of the Emperor.
The emperor always opposed people's belief in gods and in him, but he himself used miracles that should not have appeared to conquer and assimilate people at the fastest speed.
This is fatal. If one has not witnessed miracles beyond comprehension, then faith is merely empty talk and a consolation for a bleak life for almost 90% of people.
However, once something inexplicable or beyond our comprehension occurs, faith can quickly become fanatical, pathological, and extreme.
Because in their understanding, gods truly exist and walk among the world, and if you want to refute them, you have to refute that existing god.
Priam prayed fervently, reciting hymns of praise to the emperor.
"His work is great, and so are you, my child."
"You're always worrying about this and that; you haven't stopped since you were three years old."
"You make your guards your hands and feet, your army your swords, and your kingdom your canvas, waiting for you to paint and create."
"You regard the people of Troy as colors and paints, the church, the nobility... as black stains that should not exist on a perfect painting."
"I am proud, but at the same time, I am also terrified."
Priam praised, his voice slowly softening into a calm sigh.
This terrified him.
"I saw your restraint, not because you couldn't do it, but because of me, because of Paris."
"I saw the most extreme and efficient emotions and methods in your eyes. I was afraid that if it weren't for me and Paris, you would have used the most bloody and terrifying purge to kill all the nobles and criminals."
Hector fell silent.
"I saw your desire for control, which far exceeds that of ordinary people, and your indifference towards many things."
"You love every Trojan, regardless of their status, whether they are the lowest slaves in the bottom hive or the well-fed and clothed inhabitants of the upper hive."
"You love them justly, you want to redeem them, but child."
"You do not love the planet beneath the feet of the Trojan people, or rather, you do not love the culture that the Trojan people embrace."
"You hate the blood-sucking nobles, you hate all the guilty. I remember clearly that you were five years old, you were so young."
Priams mimicked the movements, trying to recreate Hector as a small child.
"You broke free from your guards, personally snapped the necks of six servants of the Ocalesis family, and personally pulled out the spine of that teenage boy."
"He collapsed limply on the ground, barely clinging to life with the help of medication, and you listened to his wails and screams."
"Smash that bloody blood and bone on his face, and you judge his crime, for he killed a family of the most ordinary Trojans."
"He pleaded with you, saying that nobles should not be punished, for the gods have forgiven them."
"Later," Priam sighed.
He didn't want to continue, and Priam saw grotesqueness and fanaticism in the child's face.
"You spent eleven years perfecting the laws of Troy, sending countless nobles to the gallows. You have been trying step by step to erode the soil of faith on this planet, and the young people of Upper Nest have almost stopped believing in the gods."
"And Zhongchao is also abandoning its faith."
"Child, it seems you have seen a more beautiful, more desirable, ideal land, the one you believe to exist."
"But I ask you, child, do you truly love Troy?"
"Do you truly love Troy, or that place you keep shaping into a dream world?"
Hector remained silent, unwilling to look Priam in the eye.
His actions, his avoidance, were his answer.
"I'm saving Troy," Hector replied dryly.
"Of course, of course," Priam smiled.
He stood beside Hector and gently stroked his son Paris, whose eyes were filled with tears but whose face was smiling.
Without hesitation, he spoke softly, with utmost sincerity and from the bottom of his heart: "I have always been proud of you, my child."
"But I am equally proud of Paris."
"Paris is my child, and also a child of the land and culture of Troy."
"Since he wants to stay with his brother, then take him with you, child."
"Whenever you can't control your anger, look to Paris."