Read Novel Full Chapter 1390 Third Lesson
Chapter 1390 Third Lesson
Atticus had asked himself the same question since he met Anorah: why did he feel drawn? Why did he follow a complete stranger to her world, risking not only himself, but his people? Now, he had the answer.
Because the woman was Anorah. Because he couldn't read her with a single glance.
Atticus could see layers upon layers of life buried within her. He couldn't see through it all. What was her goal? What was her belief? Why did she help him?
He had seen it in her eyes the moment they clashed in the gilded debt, a focus and determination that belied anything he'd ever seen before.
She had a goal, and nothing could shake her determination to reach it.
That, Atticus believed, he was drawn to.
So, as Anorah began recounting the events of the past days, the spy, her ambush, Atticus found himself listening very attentively. Somehow, he wanted to find a solution to her crisis. He wanted to help.
"So… as I said, it's been quite a couple of days." Anorah said with a shake of her head.
Atticus fell silent for what was only a moment. Then with squinted eyes, he tilted his head.
"Why don't you just kill them?"
Anorah stared at Atticus in bafflement. "What is it with men and their need for violence? Why do they think it's the only solution that exists?"
"Because it's a solution that works." Atticus shrugged. "You play mind games with people deserving of it. But the others… you simply dominate."
Anorah frowned. "You mean rule my people like a tyrant."
"No. I mean rule your people."
The confusion flickering in her eyes didn't escape him. Atticus straightened slightly, his tone calm.
"My world can be considered peaceful. Do you know why?"
She shook her head.
"Because of the way I rule. I bind my subjects to follow my every order."
Her expression hardened. "You make them slaves. Rob them of their free will. That… is bad."
"You can call me a tyrant all you want," Atticus said evenly. "You can condemn me, criticize me, mock me. I don't care. If it brings me peace, if it brings my people peace, then that is all that matters."
Anorah's voice dropped low. "And what of free will? How do you expect them to ever be satisfied, to ever love, when they have no choice but to obey you?"
"That's the thing." Atticus' gaze sharpened. "In life, when you chase something, you will inevitably trample on the desires of others, especially those who want the opposite of what you seek. Otherwise, you'll never get anywhere. I strive for power, and for peace. If that means turning the whole world into my enemy, so be it."
Her eyes narrowed. "Then tell me, how would you feel if someone forced you into slavery for the sake of their ideals?"
Atticus didn't hesitate. "I'd do something about it."
"Not everyone has that luxury," Anorah said quietly.
"Then they must learn the way the world works. The powerful rule."
A silence stretched between them.
"It still doesn't change the fact that you're a tyrant," she finally said.
Atticus smiled faintly. Though her words were harsh, her tone was devoid of any judgment. It was a statement, not condemnation. Like a friend pointing out your misdeeds.
"Then take it from this perspective," he said. "I want something good for my world. To achieve it, I impose myself on the people. Yes, they're bound to my will, but I don't strip their lives bare. I restrict them only in the ways that threaten what I'm building. Beyond that, they can live, can dream… They prosper. And in return, they give me peace."
"I understand that. But it still doesn't change the truth. You are morally wrong. A tyrant. What gives you the right to assume control over their will?"
Atticus smiled, utterly calm. "Because I am their god."
Anorah fell silent.
Atticus could feel the flicker of emotions passing through her face. She was seriously pondering his words.
"But of course…" he said reassuringly. "This is simply my way. Your people are your people, and you can rule them as you like."
"I understand…" Anorah muttered. She seemed deep in thought. "It's just… enslaving people seems… evil. My father will not approve."
"Your father?"
"Dead." Anorah smiled sadly. "He ruled the resistance before me. He was a man who would stand for no injustice."
"I see. Well…" Atticus stared at Anorah's sad countenance, deciding whether or not to press. He decided to.
"…are you your father?"
A flicker ran through Anorah's eyes. Her gaze turned cloudy, as though she was contemplating.
Her father had been the greatest person she knew. Honorable to a fault. The thought of enslaving people would sicken him. He wouldn't stand for it.
Regardless, after everything that had occurred these past few days, she couldn't help but admit Atticus' words were somehow resonating with her. If she had enslaved the council and many others, none of this would have occurred.
Atticus' question sounded in her head. Was she her father?
Anorah shook her head. "We'll discuss this later," she said, suddenly rising. "It's time for your next lesson."
Atticus smiled wryly but didn't press. He nodded.
"What's the next lesson about?"
"Substitution." She moved towards the door.
"In this lesson, you will learn how to anchor yourself to a more reliable aspect than emotions."
Atticus fell silent as Anorah began instructing him on what to do. By now, he'd realized that every word she uttered was important. He'd found himself saved by her words in the last two lessons.
So, he made sure not to miss even a syllable.
As it turned out, substitution was more straightforward than the others. As she had explained, he needed to find another anchor, one more reliable than his emotions.
Logic patterns.
To achieve this, Atticus had been asked to summon his will, without using his emotions.
Unlike what many would think, it was easier said than done. Will was an extension of our being, our belief. What was belief without strong conviction? Without strong emotions to anchor it?
What Atticus had considered straightforward turned out to be even more complicated than the other two lessons.
Once again, Atticus found himself in a conundrum.