Rasma said with a hint of regret.
"Then what do you think wisdom is?"
Bulkesso tilted his head and looked at Rasma and asked.
"It is a way to solve problems, a plan to deal with problems, and an optimal solution."
Rasma seemed to give an answer without much thought.
"Then my fist can also be called wisdom.
So you will show respect and worship to my fist?
Okay, this is not a good example because you have to respect my fist.
But you should understand what I mean, right?"
The corners of Bulqueso's mouth twitched upward.
That expression was like seeing something valuable prey.
This was the expression Bulkeso had when he saw the big guy when he went hunting with his three ancestors.
"Your fist is not the optimal solution."
The corners of Rasma's mouth twitched twice.
He finally found that the rhythm of the conversation had fallen into the atmosphere Bulqueso was accustomed to.
I just couldn't think of any good solution for a while.
"When facing a guy who wants to kill you, fists are the best solution.
Wisdom is choosing the right method in the right situation.
As complicated as you think, it's more like knowledge.
So Rasma, have you always wanted to be closer to your mother after you left her?"
As soon as Bulcasso's words came out, the first generation ancestor immediately looked at his younger brother with a serious face.
Compared to Inarius, Lilith is more dangerous...
Inarius is relatively safe until it reaches its most extreme state.
But not Lilith!
No matter what time it is, Lilith is still in danger!
Including the love of Lilith!
Lilith's love for children is also dangerous!
Knowledge just tells her what to do to get the results she needs.
But he will not tell Lilith what this approach will lead to during the implementation process.
The first generation ancestors would become cautious and wary when facing their father.
But when facing Lilith, it's just simple hostility and defensiveness!
"Rasma, I didn't ask before.
Is it true that the only thing you want to ask your mother for help is what you told me?"
The first generation ancestor began to question his younger brother again.
It looked like if he couldn't get the answer through words, he would resort to violence just like Bulkeso.
Should he be said to be the ancestor of barbarians?
The choices are all so similar...
"You are really not smart.
But it doesn't matter, I can tell you my brother.
I did ask my mother for help in other aspects.
But if you ask me this question at this time, that is the stupidest thing.
You don’t think that Bulcasso over there will join you in attacking me because of this result, do you?
He should be very willing to watch a drama where brothers have to fight because of different ideas.
If you were smarter, you would leave this question until we rescued father.
Then the two of us can fight under the witness of my father.
And no one will die, isn’t that bad?”
After speaking, Rasma let out a long sigh.
Then he freed his hands from his sleeves.
He already held a sickle in his hand.
"Pa~"
With the sound of someone hitting the ground, Inaris was thrown directly to the floor in front of Rasma.
"Here, your dad.
You can now fight in his presence.
It won’t die anyway, so I’m willing to spend some time to see it.
Let's start. I've got black bread and wine.
I have prepared snacks for watching the battle.
You don’t have to worry about me jumping on the stage to beat you two actors because I’m so happy.”
Bulkesso pushed his palm, urging Rasma to hurry up and start what he called a brotherly war.
It is human nature to watch the excitement...
There's really nothing to say about it.
"You, is there something wrong here?"
The first-generation ancestor looked at Inaris struggling to get up on the ground, and cautiously pointed his finger at his head and asked Bulcasso.
"I don't know, I don't know what is wrong with a person with an incomplete soul.
But don't worry, these are not things you need to worry about.
To put it harshly, it’s useless for you to worry.”
While Bulcasso was speaking, he sat cross-legged on the ground.
That means he has made up his mind to watch the fun.
"I take back my comment about your intelligence.
But I reserve my own opinion, I still don’t think your fists can solve everything.”
The head of the scythe in Rasma's hand hung down at her feet, and her eyes looked at Bulkesso with a little more caution.
Everything from the moment they met Bulcaisel didn't go the way they hoped.
This situation is already very illustrative of the problem.
If Rasma still thinks he can control everything, then he is the stupidest idiot.
"It's true that fists can't make someone fall in love with you.
But you can definitely make someone hate you.
But maybe fists can sometimes make onlookers fall in love with you?
The fist is my wisdom.
It solves most of the problems I encountered in Sanctuary.
Even now, he can still solve most of the problems I encounter."
For the sake of Rasma's previous words, Bulkesso said one more thing.
To be continued...