Crown of Silence

Chapter 737 Mercy

What's even more frightening is that Watson's scepter has extraordinary permeability, just like an old priest teaching the Holy Scriptures, making people unconsciously convinced, changing themselves, and devoting their faith.

Fine electric lights appeared all over Ye Qingxuan's body, as if an invisible protective net was being set off, and there was a crackling sound.

He actually felt that Watson's music theory was infecting him...

It's like the power of natural disasters is contaminating others.

"Looks scary, doesn't it?"

Watson smiled happily and poured the remaining wine in the cup into the sea: "Thanks to the Inquisition, I supplemented the music theory of the sacred cauldron and achieved the scepter.

Although it can allow oneself and others to freely transform between the two parties, it is only a small way after all - music theory cannot change people, nor can people truly be saved.

Therefore, I call it - 'Apocrypha'. "

Apocrypha means that it is not in the right path.

Not the Book of the Abyss, nor the Holy Scripture, but somewhere in between.

It seems beautiful, but in fact it is extreme and radical.

Even if you can get your own way, it will still be difficult to achieve perfection.

It is obvious that taking a step forward is sublimation, and taking a step backward is degradation, but it happened to stop in the middle.

This is Watson's scepter - a madman writing a book in the name of a sage, an apocryphal book hiding malice and poison, a hypocritical and empty redemption.

As long as Watson is willing, he can easily transform black and white, corrupt the musicians of the sect, and bring divine grace to the black musicians.

But as he said, music theory cannot change people.

It is people who achieve music theory.

"You guy..."

Ye Qingxuan had a headache.

Watson's scepter is just like Watson himself.

It seems gentle and holy on the surface, but in fact it contains evil intentions.

Just like a cult that confuses people, once you are convinced by him, give up your own path, want to borrow his power and rely on his ability, you will gradually be changed by him, and you will be addicted to him under his control. Superficial redemption, not daring to face his true self, until in the end, he became his puppet.

You wouldn't believe it if he didn't do anything to help the island's musicians get rid of their problems.

He sighed and said, "Go back and ask Stone to fill a teaching position. You can go to Westminster Abbey and take up a position."

"You want me to be the next Archbishop of Westminster Abbey?" Watson understood what he meant and laughed strangely: "Do you really trust me to be a priest?"

"No, I'm not reassured at all. But as you said, music theory cannot change people, but people make music theory."

Ye Qingxuan shook his head. After thinking for a long time, he suddenly asked:

"And, are you interested in being the Pope of the Protestant Church?"

Watson was stunned.

For a long time, he laughed.

——

Ten hours ago.

Outside of Angelo, above the desolate northern sea.

After a short war, only one area of ​​​​the sea has completely turned into an inhuman alien land, and the dark green sea water is filled with a fishy smell.

Wisps of mist linger in the air like cotton wool, the lingering poison of the Cup of Virtue lingering.

In the eerie silence, the old musician stopped on the tide.

He was holding a wooden staff that was taller than him, leaning on his body, slightly hunched over, wearing a black robe, looking around at this dead sea, with a low voice.

"How long are you prepared to watch?"

He stared at the non-existent air with a cold expression, as if he saw Anubis hiding in the void.

Bitter laughter sounded, and the musician who transformed into the wolf-headed god walked out of the void and lowered his head to the old man in front of him: "We meet again, Teacher Bach."

Bach looked at him for a long time.

"It seems like you're doing well. Gaius is very kind to you."

Langdi nodded, "It should be."

"The Holy City treats you well."

Wolf Flute touched his long nose, grinned, and showed two rows of white teeth: "I can't help it, I am a child raised by wolves, and I am like a white-eyed wolf when I am ungrateful."

Bach said indifferently, "Wolf Flute, you have a name."

"Isn't all this the result of the teacher giving me my name?"

Langdi asked back, "Just like you once said - as long as people work hard, mistakes are inevitable. Sometimes I really think, if I had been living like a wolf and died like that, maybe I would Happier than now.”

Bach heard this, but was unmoved, "You made the decision as a human being, why should you use the excuse of an animal to deceive yourself?"

"The teacher taught you right."

Wolf Flute lowered his head.

"So, since you dare to use a projection to appear in front of me, are you ready to go to war with me?" Bach stared at him, raised and lowered the wooden staff in his hand.

collapse!

The wooden stick hit the sea surface, like a whip hitting iron. Although there was no splash of water spreading, it made the huge ocean tremble slightly.

The projection of the wolf whistle vibrated violently, and Anubis's skin cracked, revealing the scars inside.

But soon, the shaking stopped.

In front of a pair of bare feet.

Bach turned around and looked behind him. When he saw the young man, his expression became enlightened, "You should be Charles from the Caucasus."

"First meeting, Your Excellency Bach."

The young man nodded and saluted with a respectful expression.

Bach looked at him, "Are you sure you can beat me?"

"Although I can't beat you, can you give me some face and not go to Angelo, but stay and chat?" Charles grinned, "This is the first time we meet, so it's not good to fight and kill each other."

Bach shook his head indifferently.

A harsh and sharp noise suddenly erupted. It was a melody with countless overlapping movements. In an instant, it seemed as if the sea and the sky were resonating.

The entire northern sea area was sealed in an instant, and the heaven and earth were turbulent under Bach's will, catering to his rhythm. The Blue King's will runs between heaven and earth, controlling the elements from the etheric realm, and taking over the control of everything.

It was as if the sky suddenly collapsed and the ocean rose in turmoil.

The sea and the sky merge here.

collapse!

The sharp sound stopped suddenly.

Ciel stretched out his hand and pressed it into the void, as if he were holding down the turbulent sea and sky, forcibly eliminating the shock and crushing the noise.

It's like holding up a speeding wheel. The skin on the palm was broken, the unhealed wound was torn again, and the wound on the little finger oozed blood again.

The blood flowed out, fell into the sea water, and became infected.

Just a drop of blood made the aura of disaster lingering over the entire sea area dissipate.

In an instant, the sky was clear and the fresh wind blew from afar, so magnificent that it was almost miraculous.

Bach didn't do anything again, but looked at his missing little finger silently, his brows furrowed, as if confused.

Charles' face was already red from suppressing it, and he forced out a smile: "Mr. Bach, when my junior brother went to school, he still used your letter of recommendation. We always have feelings for each other...why is this necessary?"

Bach didn't speak, just stared at him silently.

Watching him walking barefoot on the sea without using any music, the sea water lifted him up like a miracle.

After a brief silence, Bach seemed to understand something and suddenly asked:

"Char, do you really think you are the Son of God?"

Charles was stunned for a moment, and his smile became awkward: "I don't think I look like it either. I'm so shy and droopy. If God really had a child like me, that would be such a sin."

"Is your finger hurt?" Bach asked.

Charles looked at his palm, put away his little finger, and smiled: "It's due to fatigue, just a minor injury."

"Is it?"

Bach said coldly, "You are consuming yourself. You should know - I don't know what you exchanged for it. Such a sacrifice is not normal for you and the Caucasus."

Charles was silent for a moment and replied: "Someone must solve the urgent problem."

"People's affairs should be solved by people, and people should bear the consequences, not you."

Bach's tone was straightforward without any euphemism: "Char, no matter how much you sacrifice, it will only make them understand how huge the gap is between them and you - you should know everything about your own nature.

Don't do unnecessary things. The more you do, the more mistakes you make.

Now, get out of here and stay out of my way.

If I wish I had mercy on you, this is the last mercy I can show you. "

"Mr. Bach, have you ever heard someone cry?"

Ciel suddenly asked.

Bach said nothing.

"Have you ever seen people suffering?"

Charles asked in a low voice: "Those homeless people are wandering in the wilderness, eating weeds, living like dogs, lying on the ground, looking up at anyone who comes towards them, hoping that they can save themselves.

Can you turn around and leave?

Have you ever longed for help from others?

Like me, I hope that someone will come to save me, come to help me, even if it is just to be my friend, someone will tell me that I have not been abandoned by this world, and that living in this world is not meaningless..."

"That was who I was and now I'm not - so I'm not going to give up and if I can do it, I'm going to do it and if someone asks me for help, I'm going to save him.

I don't want anyone to sacrifice for me anymore, I want to create a place for them where they can live. "

Charles stared at the silent Bach, his flattering smile disappeared, and his expression was serious: "Mr. Bach, I don't want to be your enemy, and I don't want to leave here.

But if you go on, you are my enemy. "

Huge wings of light slowly unfolded from his back, covering the sea and sky, casting a bright glow.

Behind him, the kingdom of heaven named Eden slowly emerged, reflecting the young man who was like a god and the musician who was known as the strongest.

Bach closed his eyes.

After a long time, he sighed softly.

"Do you know why the blue kings of all generations have left the human world, Ciel? It's not just to open up human land, nor to prepare for natural disasters in the dark world..."

"——It's because humans don't need gods."

Bach raised the wooden stick in his hand towards the young man in front of him, his silent eyes no longer filled with compassion, but filled with thunder.

"Now, no need to talk nonsense anymore, let 'your enemy' experience your abilities."