After returning home, Allen immediately went to check on the “Dawn’s Children” and their progress with their culture classes.
Compared to last time, their enthusiasm was astonishingly high.
Allen couldn’t help but feel gratified.
This Mr. François really was terrified of losing his job again.
After Allen gave him a wake-up call, he had transformed from a stern old pedant into a humorous, friendly teacher in no time at all.
The fairy tale collection Allen had burned the midnight oil to write had also played a huge role.
Everyone’s thirst for knowledge was running high—there was no sign they’d just come back from a holiday.
That’s right. This morning, Allen had let them go watch the triumph ceremony under the pretense of “observation training,” but really, it was just half a day off.
At the same time, he’d ordered “Nightingale” Eleanor and “Shadow” Luca to secretly monitor the group, checking if anyone would try to sneak off and play hooky—a perfect chance to test the loyalty of those two as well.
Allen wasn’t actually worried about anyone running away. With Marianne there, nobody would get far.
Besides, if any traitor did show up, today’s political education class would have a real-life example of a “counter-revolutionary,” driving home the meaning of: “Whoever is not with us, is our enemy.”
The operation to purge the Thieves’ Guild was about to begin, and Allen needed to hold a Combat Mobilization Assembly for the Dawn’s Children.
He had to tell them: now that they’d chosen the road of violent struggle, they had to adopt a philosophy of black and white, with no middle ground.
In times when revolutionary forces are exceedingly weak and survival is harsh, the group faces both external infiltration and internal betrayal—the fire of revolution could be extinguished at any moment.
Even the slightest compromise, division, or leak could have devastating consequences.
The Dawn’s Children had to stick to a radical strategy of struggle—purifying the ranks, strengthening discipline, eliminating all potential threats and waverers, forging a collective as solid as iron, so that they wouldn’t collapse from within.
Of course, this kind of strategy would push the moderates, fence-sitters, and even potential sympathizers to the other side, leaving themselves isolated.
It relies on an almost perfect “keeper of absolute truth”—something that almost never exists in reality, and often becomes a tool to purge dissidents and consolidate personal power.
But Allen was different. He was the closest thing to a perfect “keeper of absolute truth.”
He came from an era that had witnessed “History’s End,” and understood the lessons of history better than anyone.
In fact, the strategy of struggle and the strategy of unity—“make more friends, fewer enemies”—were not mutually exclusive; they were dialectically unified. The key was timing, degree, and purpose.
“Struggle is the means to unity. Unity is the goal of struggle.”
The strategy of unity is often used when revolutionary forces are weak and need to accumulate strength, or when facing a powerful common Enemy, or during the post-revolutionary period of construction and governance.
The goal is to expand alliances and isolate the primary Enemy.
It acknowledges the complexity of social forces, understands that revolution cannot rely solely on a pure vanguard, and that in real situations, it is necessary to unite with all possible forces, even temporary or conditional allies.
But this is also a double-edged sword.
If you seek unity through struggle, unity survives; if you seek unity through concession, unity perishes.
If an organization cannot maintain its own purity, stick to its core principles and leadership, then “unity” becomes the pretext for losing its principles, making too many compromises, weakening organization, and having its revolutionary goals diluted by its allies.
The strategy of unity is the higher, more sustainable wisdom of revolution.
The strongest unity is always forged in the necessary struggle against all kinds of erroneous thinking and behavior.
For a revolution to succeed, it must have the necessary struggles to defend organizational purity and survival, but it also cannot do without the united front wisdom that brings about the greatest possible alliance.
Allen needed to open up these truths and instill them in the future core of the revolution.
Study more in peacetime, and you’ll shed less blood in war!
What surprised and pleased him was that, after this morning’s little field trip, not a single traitor had emerged among these dozens of people.
Instead, after personally witnessing the might of the Kingdom’s elite troops, they all felt a powerful sense of crisis.
They became truly aware of their own weakness, and were eager to learn and grow stronger. Only then could they hope to build “Heaven on Earth.”
Such is the depth of change brought by knowledge.
These former hooligans and bottom-dwellers, after Allen’s ideological cleansing, had thoroughly transformed.
Allen and Marianne watched as the burning desire to grow stronger shone in their eyes, and their lips curled into the same smile.
“Marianne, your soldiers aren’t half bad, are they?”
“It’s all thanks to young master’s teaching.”
“The real teacher here is this man-eating feudal society, not me. Society is the best teacher; any innocence will be ruthlessly crushed by it.”
Allen decided to give the Dawn’s Children a good meal that evening—after all, it might really be their “last supper” before departure.
Once the Thieves’ Guild was taken down, his “Handicraft and Labor Mutual Aid Guild” had to immediately take over operations.
Move fast enough, and they’d enjoy all the spoils; let others in, and there’d be nothing left.
These young warriors were about to face a harsh trial. Allen knew that by the time the revolution succeeded, most of them would be dead, but he had to see the struggle through to the end.
He hadn’t wanted to be a revolutionary—destroying the old world was just a stage goal.
But since he’d arranged the fates of others, he must bear the weight of their deaths.
Any death was his loss, because he was human. Therefore, don’t ask for whom the bell tolls—it tolls for all.
“Marianne, I am a very cruel person. My whims have brought death to countless people. Is it worth it?”
“Of course it’s worth it.” Marianne answered without hesitation. “Because people would rather burn out in longing than suffocate slowly in endless pain.”
“Is that so…” Allen fell silent for a moment, then turned and looked seriously into Marianne’s eyes. “Marianne, there’s something I need to tell you.”
“That Evil Being that nearly killed me this morning—it was the leader of the Crimson Spiral Cult. Before it left, it gave you a gift. Marianne, can you feel anything different about yourself?”
Marianne froze for a moment, then seemed to sense something. The next second, she vanished right before Allen’s eyes.
Allen wasn’t surprised, merely musing, “…As expected, you’ve obtained a true Engraved Mark. Marianne, are you in my shadow?”
“Yes, young master.” Marianne’s voice came from the shadow at Allen’s feet—a rather eerie scene. She reappeared, looking at her own hands in disbelief. “I… really have an Engraved Mark?”
“That’s right. That guy called it the Brand of Shadow. Its trait is perfect concealment within shadows. But I think its potential is far greater than that,” Allen analyzed.
Suddenly, Marianne felt dizzy and light-headed. She thought she’d long escaped the Cult, yet it still clung to her like a shadow, even giving her this “gift” without her knowledge.
The more she thought about it, the more pessimistic she became, almost losing all hope.
“I… what should I do? I have the bloodline of the Engraved Mark now… No, I can’t be controlled by an Evil God… I’ll self-destruct right now! Farewell, young master! I love you!”
“Don’t go killing yourself at the drop of a hat! And that last line was unnecessary!”
Allen quickly restrained the self-loathing, ready-to-explode Marianne, laughing as he comforted her,
“Don’t be afraid. The Archbishop said it himself: an Engraved Mark is a type of psychic power, a force that can be analyzed. Don’t treat it like some monstrous disaster. As long as you stay true to yourself, don’t get drunk on the power, and don’t let yourself be seduced, you can use it for your own ends.”
“But… I’m tainted now!” Marianne sobbed. “If I stay by your side, I’ll defile your sacredness as the chosen of God!”
“What sacredness?” Allen sneered. “Weren’t you curious how I knew so much about the Cult and about you? It’s simple—because in past cycles, I joined the Cult too. Why else would the leader come to me?”
“I personally killed her once—and you too. Neither of us is any sort of good person.”
Allen even joked, “If you don’t want to be my maid anymore, just go tell the King about your Engraved Mark bloodline. Who knows, maybe you’ll become one of the Sword-Bearing Nobles and bring honor to your family!”
“That’s selling out my master for glory! I’d never do that!”
With the interruption, Marianne snapped out of it, even feeling a strange sense of joy.
She finally realized that both of them had fallen into darkness and fought, rather than loved, each other.
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