Silent Crown

Chapter 391: It's All a Trick

Burn to death, drown to death, freeze to death.

Flatten into a pancake, twist into a braid, burn into dust.

Turn into a demon, cremate into cinders, dig out his own eyes and heart while laughing crazily, die from a broken neck, die naturally, die from a curse, die when poisonous algae grows on his body, die from heart failure, die from high blood pressure, die from music theory breakdown, die from psychosis…

Die, die, die.

For a moment, Ye Qingxuan experienced dozens of ways to die. The hallucinations flashed past his eyes but the pain crashed fully onto his body. They were not hallucinations; they were real. The only unreal thing was Ye Qingxuan.

For a moment, he could not separate real from illusion. The difference was blurred. Seeing dozens of himself die horrible deaths, Ye Qingxuan's mind went numb. How many times did Paganini want to kill him?

"How long are you going to be shocked for?" a furious voice rose in his mind. "Do you know how much it takes for one 'illusion wipe'? Going into coherence without even asking, messing everything up and making me wipe your *ss, do you really think I'm a cheap relative?"

It was obviously Lola's voice. To be honest, Ye Qingxuan had felt hopeless when he realized how much of a scam his talent was. However, at the same time, he realized that although he was the only true Ye, there was still a 'distant relative!'

She was Ye Lanzhou's inheritor in Anglo, the moon spirit with the same music theory and path as him, the criminal mastermind of downtown, the professor of sinner cram schools—Lola!

The application goal of Heaven Ladder was the Deva blood of the Ye family. However, Deva's blood was just an inheritable product from combining music theory structure and blood. The Ye's were born with it, but that did not mean others could not achieve it.

Lola had been taught personally by Ye Lanzhou and had tailored lessons. Other than Moonlight, which was too destructive for dark tribes, she was able to absorb everything else. No music scores or theories were hidden from her. Ye Lanzhou had treated her better than his own son. Now, Lola had no other flaws except for her surname.

If this could not work, then Ye Qingxuan would have to surrender and give up his neck. Thankfully, the result was just as Ye Qingxuan had guessed. Lola had reacted quickly and instantly accepted the coherence, successfully saving everything. Ye Qingxuan had lost count how many times she had saved him.

"Aha," Ye Qingxuan laughed shyly. "You're so good to me. I'm almost in love with you!"

"I'm old enough to be your grandma! Kid, your taste is quite wild." Lola was used to Ye Qingxuan's 'flirtatious' words. She scoffed. "That's your talent?"

"Yeah, isn't it powerful?"

"What are you proud over? You're even better at making messes but I've never seen you feel bad! What are you facing this time?"

"Uh, how do I say it? This enemy's pretty significant. He has a high status and has been around for a while. I guess he's a senior. Lola, you should be prepared mentally. Don't get too excited."

"Spit it out!"

"Ha, uh, it's Paganini." After Ye Qingxuan replied, the line seemed to have cut off. Lola had no reaction and everything was still. So he added, "Yeah, the one who fell two-hundred years ago and became a dark follower."

"Ye Qingxuan!!" He could feel an eruption of fury from the other end of the Heaven Ladder. It was like an explosion. Lola screamed without any grace or ladylike manners, "Do you want to die?! If you want to die, then go hang yourself with a rope! Why are you making more trouble? You know what you're doing? Get ten of me from my strongest time and I couldn't even defeat his finger? Are you f*cking crazy?

"You're cool, huh? You just keep making bigger messes! First the Parliament, then Avalon's Shadow, and now you just go and challenge dark followers! I haven't seen you in a bit, and you go and get yourself killed…"

Ye Qingxuan listened quietly until she finished cursing and spitting out her thousand-word rant. Then he asked, "So are you going to help?"

Lola fell silent and Ye Qingxuan smiled. "Thanks, Lola. I owe you." Sensing the power sent by the other end, he opened his eyes. "Now, give me a hand!"

-

Twelve thoughts was one instant. Twenty instants was a moment. Minds could communicate back and forth countless times but it would only be one moment in reality. When Ye Qingxuan opened his eyes, he sensed his horrible situation.

Countless strands of abyss music theory had invaded him, turning his body into a demon's lair. Bugs scurried through his organs, gnawing away at him to replace him with wax so he would turn into a humanoid beehive.

This was a very creative way to die.

Light flashed and the dead Ye Qingxuan disappeared like a hallucination. An unharmed one appeared in its place. This time, he raised the Sword in the Stone. Blazing light glowed on the blade, creating golden ripples on the ground. This time, a heavy bell rang out. Wind blew from the sea, filling the temple with water vapor and smell of fish.

Waves crashed and the shadow of a pure white city rose behind Ye Qingxuan. It was Avalon from tens of thousands of miles away, hanging in the sky like the sun. In the reflection on the sea surface, the city's shadow was dark. Countless demons rested there. In the blur, an eerie and bloody moon appeared.

"As commanded by the king." Ye Qingxuan held the Sword upside down and dug it into the soil. "This is the sacred soil of the Kingdom of Anglo. Heaven will descend here!" Thus, Lola brought her broken scepter down. Heaven on Earth returned!

A cold voice rang out, dissipating the darkness. "Impossible! I already shattered Heaven on Earth! Impossible! Impossible!" Screams of disbelief came from the Garment but quickly turned into a scoff.

"You thought I would say that? Let me see… You got a broken scepter from somewhere to pair with the dead guy's weapon? From a certain aspect, it's a great match! But you think using the same trick twice will have an effect?"

In that moment, Ye Qingxuan's expression froze. He forgot about the Channeling Change. Paganini was the best at music theory changes. He could combine Modifications, Abstinence, and Illusion to create power in the abyss! He was the creator of the 'faceless actors,' the strongest man who could be disguised as a saint for decades.

Once he understood the structure and music theory and grasped the pattern of change, he could change himself flawlessly and enter into it. It was just like the countless musicians who had been invaded by the jumping music theories and fell into the abyss with him.

Avalon's image started shaking and falling apart as soon as it began solidifying. Paganini's music theory had somehow fused into Heaven on Earth until the differences were undetectable. Like a leech, it sucked on the Sword's power, turning it into its own power.

Avalon's enchantment inside Heaven on Earth and countless music theories instantly became infected. They weakened and became dull. Ye Qingxuan was powerless. He could only watch as they were corroded.

"This situation is so familiar."

He suddenly sighed and looked up at Paganini. "Thinking closely, I realized that I had experienced this before. Avalon's enchantment had a bunch of demons inside and was attacked by enemies on the outside. This situation is so familiar…" It was like dejà vu of the war in Avalon's Shadow.

"How was it solved back then?" Ye Qingxuan pretended to think for a bit. He suddenly smiled, giving Paganini a bad feeling. "Oh right…"

He paused and declared, "Let there be light!"

Boom! The Heaven on Earth shook. All music theories at the core were swept into a wild vortex. Deep inside, countless theories changed, creating an empty turbidity. An ancient scroll emerged out of thin air. It moved on the water like majestic strength even though the surface was dark.

Thus, the empty murkiness was opened. Light appeared. All was singing for the arrival of the miracle. It was the creation of the world!

"It is here," a hoarse voice said from the scroll. "It shall be here eternally!"

The countless abyss music theories froze. An uncontrolled roar burst out. "Genesis!" Paganini shook. He glared at Ye Qingxuan, yelling, "Haydn! It's you! I see. It's a trap, as expected…"

He seemed to finally understand. This was a trap the Sacred City created to capture him. They suffered extreme losses to lure him out while the saints hidden in the darkness bided the time. He instantly grew cautious. Aether waves rolled off of him crazily. All strength was put into defense. He reactivated the ritual of 'Infinite Movement,' instantly putting hundreds of shields around him, constructing an aether citadel.

But nothing happened.

Within Heaven on Earth, the power of Genesis continued running to the climax and then…it disappeared.

Paganini blanched. The light, the murkiness, the miraculous scroll, and the terrifying aura of life all disappeared like a hallucination. It was as if an actor attended a ceremony as an emperor. No matter how many gold accessories and glamorous robes he wore, he was still nothing inside. There was no need for anyone to test him. He would be found out as soon as he opened his mouth.

It was fake.

Everything was just a trick. There was no sincerity.

Under the fading light, Ye Qingxuan grinned creepily. "I don't even believe that I can create the Genesis. How come you believed me?"

Everything Paganini saw after Ye Qingxuan said "let there be light" was an illusion. If he did not feel guilty and always thought that the Sacred City was out to get him, he would not have become so nervous and be influenced by Lola's School of Mind movement.

Ye Qingxuan had just been imitating the Genesis that he had experienced. He created a paper tiger and Paganini believed him. This was the magic of illusions. Because of Ye Qingxuan's lies, Paganini missed the opportunity to kill this guy once and for all, giving Ye another chance.

Ye Qingxuan smiled. The pure white city behind him toppled. The dark city of Avalon's City rose from the surface of the sea. Above him, the blood-red moon hung in the air. That was the core he used to control Heaven on Earth.

It was Lola's scepter.

Under the scepter's rule, Heaven on Earth's territory expanded.

The red waning moon radiated with a strange aura. It had an indescribable beauty and loneliness. Like a beauty drenched in blood putting on makeup before a mirror, she was heartbreakingly gentle and terrifying chilling.

However, this waning moon was damaged. It was covered in fine cracks, revealing the slight water-like ripples. The scepter's true body was the reflection of the moon in the sea.

Yes, it was the Moon in the Water! At this moment, illusion and reality had switched positions. The broken moon in the water hung in the air. It shone, seemingly replacing the true object's position. In comparison, the entire world felt unreal.

"Within the frozen time, the flowing languages, and black fog, there is dim light…" A cold yet peaceful voice traveled vaguely like a ghost singing under the moon. "The flower withers in an instant. The flower blooms in yesterday." Under the Sword's strength, Lola's damaged scepter managed to recover and unleash the strange power of alternating between illusion and reality. It was this moon that had imitated Genesis just then. The realness of it scared even Paganini.

"You were beating me for so long. It was hard for me to get the chance to fight back." Under the moon, Ye Qingxuan looked at him with an eerie smile. "Let me show you something good!"

The temple shook. Immense pressure came from the sky, dropping onto the ground and cracking the land. Every music theory began trembling under this vast theory, almost breaking down under this solid pressure. The air was red as if it was burning. A deafening thunder came from the sky. The moon was falling!

The illusory waning moon suddenly fell toward Paganini. The moon in the reflection now radiated with tangible pressure. It crushed every obstacle, pushing down with raw yet impossible strength. It was as if a comet was falling.

It was the Moon Fall! The world was burning.

When Paganini saw its nature, he scoffed. "It's too weak. Those tricks of putting oneself in an illusion do nothing." He smirked. "You cannot find anything in the void. These cocooning music theories are even more laughable than lying to oneself!" With that, he reached up to shatter the illusion of the moon in the water. But then his expression changed. His power ricocheted.

It was real! It actually was real! It was actually f*cking real!

The moon in the reflection was tangible! It was just a damaged scepter. Even if it could realize illusions, how could it solidify such a large moon?

It dawned on him. It was the dragon breath. It was one hundred percent true dragon breath! Formless but solid, one could use only one's will to give aether shape and weight. The Moon Fall was just an illusion. The real deal was the dragon breath released by the Sword that the scepter controlled.

During the crazed falling, the air burned the waning moon until the disguise fell apart, revealing the resplendent Sword!

The temple shattered. Countless delicate statues and opulent decorations were crushed to dust. Paganini took the brunt. His Garment was shredded completely and the darkness cracked apart. It could barely mend itself.

Under the earth-shattering attack, half of Paganini's body evaporated and was pierced by the sword. The twelve Chapters of Golden Victory on the blade dazzled alternatively, restricting his body.

Paganini roared. The abyss wind tunnel opened behind him. A large object charged through the narrow tunnel crazily, dropping from the material world. He was completely furious now.

He wanted his true body to descend without caring about anything else and destroy both this strange city and Ye Qingxuan.

In a moment, the black mud bubbled and swelled. Ignoring that he was stabbed by the Sword, he reached out a giant odd hand and grabbed at Ye Qingxuan. There was a face chained to the palm. It was both happy and sad, singing a cacophonous hymn. The melody was grating and shattered all music theory.

Even the score of Holy on Ye Qingxuan's body, the top defensive territory, was destroyed under the furious attack. Next to go was the moonlight on his body. He could no longer turn the deaths into illusions.

Finally, he tightened his grip cruelly.

Crack. Ye Qingxuan's body shattered.

Paganini's expression twisted more and he roared in fury. It was fake! Everything since the beginning was fake; everything was a trick. This d*mn b*stard never fought honestly.

In that moment, Ye Qingxuan poured all of the scepter's power into the Sword, urging the dragon breath and simulating the fall of the moon. He hit Paganini's double, nailing and immobilizing him. But then he abandoned the Sword and this rare advantage. He even abandoned the hereditary weapon of the School of Stone Heart, just leaving behind an illusion and escaping.

Where did he go?

It suddenly dawned on Paganini. He looked back at the burning fire. Beside the Sacred Fire that would burn the entire world, he saw Ye Qingxuan's back.

He reached out to touch the girl in the fire without regard to his own safety. In the Sacred Fire, Elsa's eyes were empty and still. They reflected his sad smile.

"Hey, long time no see." Ye Qingxuan reached out, caressing her cheeks. "I was looking for you. Do you…still remember me?"

His hand was in the fire but he could not feel the heat. The flames were not real—they were the brilliance of countless interwoven music theories. They seeped into his body at the touch, fusing with him and lighting the aether within him. They wanted to ignite everything and turn them into flames.

"Ye Qingxuan, what are you doing?!" Lola raged after sensing the strange situation in his body.

"Probably…flirting with death?" Ye Qingxuan chuckled wryly. "Sorry, Lola. Thanks for taking care of me all this time. If anything happens, please help me take care of Bai Xi."

"You think I'm your—"

Before Lola could finish, Ye Qingxuan cut off the Heaven Ladder connection. Her angry voice disappeared along with the strength. Without anymore obstacles, the flames swept into his body. Covering every vessel, they burned at the moonlight and aether in his blood, dismantling his life from the inside out. At that moment, he finally broke through the flames' outer shell and grasped the Double Snake Time Meter floating within.

Even under the intense pain of burning, Ye Qingxuan was still shocked by the beauty. It was definitely a masterpiece countless alchemists would go crazy over. The core was created by complex music theories, even more complex than a symphony of predestination. It was compressed into a tiny square inch of space. Flowing like water, there was nothing forced. It was a true piece of artwork and inhumanly perfect.

It not only contained Faust's power. After the music score was unfolded, it embedded perfectly into the Sacred Fire, adjusting the vast structure and manipulating the powerful operations. It also constructed another alchemy array on top of it to hide its true appearance…

The three overlapped in almost bizarre way but did not disturb each other. It was a perfect three-part whole.

"Life or death, it depends on this." In immense pain, Ye Qingxuan clenched his teeth and prayed, Boss, if you have any heart, don't mess with me this time!

Taking a deep breath, he recited, "All is faded. Only the tree of life is forever green!"

After all this time, he recited the activation code for the Double Snake Time Meter. Everything stopped. The dark emblem on the time meter lit up.

[Ultimate authority · Verification complete]

There was a sound in the daze. It sounded like Elsa's voice but it was supernatural and cold.

[Controlled handover, coherence begins]

Ye Qingxuan sank into a daze. Countless wings of light seemed to sprout from his back, connecting the sky, the earth, and everything else. His consciousness expanded, covering the world.

He saw the dark aether river streaming in the underworld; the brilliant star ring in the sky; the earth, wind, fire, and wind hidden in objects…everything in the world showed him their true nature. In the end, he even sensed the Originator.

That was the source of all; everything flowed from it. It was magical and hidden yet omnipresent. For millennia, so many musicians had never reached this close distance. He could use all of the power in the Sacred Fire. Everything was under his control. He could seemingly do whatever he wanted. It felt as if he had transformed into a Holy Spirit.

"The world is created such that it can create miracles!" A seemingly familiar voice rang in his ears.

Ye Qingxuan snapped out of his daze and looked down at his hands. The time meter was slowly disassembling. Countless parts dissipated. Finally, all that remained in his hands was weak firelight, flickering in the wind. It was hard to imagine that this flame carried all of the Sacred Fire's strength and brought him to the state of a god.

Now, this unimaginable power was in his hands. It was right in his hands and yet he sank into confusion.

Was it this easy? He only had to utter a sentence and could receive such a powerful gift. It felt unreal like a dream but he could feel that he was not dreaming.

It was reality. But it was unbelievable.

Ye Qingxuan, you have received the strongest power in this world, someone seemed to murmur in his ear. Make a wish to the flame in your hands. You can have any glory, strength, or power you wish. But what do you truly desire? Think about it. Think carefully. There is enough time for you to ponder.

In the stillness, Ye Qingxuan stared at the fire. He quickly chuckled. "What I desire…isn't that simple? I just want her to live." He looked down at Elsa. "Not as a puppet or shell but live as a real girl… That's what I want." Clenching his hands, he pushed the flame gently into Elsa's chest. The power that could break the aether world's equilibrium entered the girl's body.

"Let her live," he ordered the flame. "Now!"

A hoarse voice sounded. It was filled with pity and was meaningful. The voice was fleeting and he could not tell if it came from his heart or ears.

"As you wish."

Then the firelight jumped, expanding explosively. Between the sky and earth, between the soil of the abyss and the gates of heaven, the vast power that covered everything suddenly caved in. It compressed, returning to the inside. It overlapped, converging on Elsa's body.

Inside her body, the Sacred Fire glowed, radiating in all directions. The majestic melody and beautiful notes scattered in the air. It was so gentle and yet so somber as if it carried all the mysteries of life. It represented the resting spirits and the mysteries of life and death.

First, it was the dreamy Compassion, then the awe-inspiring Furious Sun, Horn, Mercy of God, and Time of Judgement. At the peak, it transformed into Sacrifice, Holy…

"This is…" Ye Qingxuan listened to the melody coming from the Sacred Fire. He could not believe it.

This was the Requiem! The scepter inherited by all Kings of Yellow was hidden inside the fire! The King of Yellow who had poisoned the Romulusians had then left his power with them.

Within the holy melody, endless light poured into Elsa's body like a spirit returning. Inside the empty body, the burnt flesh regrew from the ashes. Blood started flowing again. Thin veins and organs reappeared in her body.

The vast power went through the aether sea, faintly connecting with tributaries of the Originator, using up this immense and luxurious strength to find the remnants of the broken memory and past.

Life and death were reversing…

"No, stop! Stop!" Paganini screamed. He was filled with fury and heartbreak as if watching an idiot control the richness that should be his. Ye Qingxuan used something that could change the world in exchange for some specks of dust!

The darkness raged. The giant body squeezed in from the abyss, breaking past all restrictions even if it was fatally wounded by the Sword again.

"Do you know what you're doing?!" He glared at Ye Qingxuan, wishing he could rip the youth to shreds. "Ye Qingxuan, stop! That isn't yours! You don't even know what it represents!"

Ye Qingxuan did not listen. He focused on the quickly dissipating flame. It had turned into countless music theories. They were woven by an invisible hand into the prototype of a soul.

Finally, it became solid and red. It was the legendary product from the School of Choir, a miracle on earth, the beautiful object that could reverse life and death—the Philosopher's Stone!

At that moment, the boundless strength was spent as if an ocean was dried without even leaving behind water vapor. All that remained was the miracle created by drying seven seas.

Among the burnt ashes, Elsa had started breathing again. As if she was sleeping, her eyelashes trembled.

Ye Qingxuan held his breath.

In that moment, Ye Qingxuan almost held his breath. And in that moment, a furious roar began. The abyss wind tunnel opened and black mud burst out like a fountain. Paganini roared and screamed. Yanking out the Sword, he revealed the ghastly hole. He was no longer a human but he still bled from the wound. As soon as the Sword was removed, the Garment wrapped around it, restraining it as if locking it inside a box. When it fell onto the ground, the blade dulled to scrap metal.

A black hand yanked Ye Qingxuan up by the throat. "B*stard, do you know what you did?!" Paganini's furious face emerged from the mud. He yelled, "Do you know how precious that thing is?! You wasted the biggest miracle in the world! You-you-you…you can't even die to atone for the sin!"

The mud spread along the hand, swallowing him. Immense pain as if falling into Hell overtook him. It felt like countless hands mashing down on his nerves. The pain poured into his limbs and body, besieging his sanity. He screamed in pain.

"Biggest miracle?" Ye Qingxuan laughed through the immense pain. He looked up at Paganini tauntingly. "You don't even know what the biggest miracle is."

"Then come to the Styx with your miracle!" Paganini smiled cruelly. "Don't worry, I won't let you die. During the rest of your long life, your biggest miracle will be 'death'."

Mud suddenly swallowed Elsa. Ye Qingxuan felt the hand around his throat tighten. His neck creaked in protest. His vision turned black.

In the last moment, his mind was empty but for some reason, a thin figure flashed past. It was an alley in Avalon. Under the dim light, a girl wore a dusty white dress. She looked back him with cloudy eyes.

"Cousin…"

Bai Xi, sorry.

Closing his eyes, Ye Qingxuan used the last of his strength to yell, "Wolf Flute!"

-

In the sky, a scorched Wolf Flute and the remaining grandmasters landed haphazardly on the floor of the iron whale temple.

"Father…" Wolf Flute looked up at Bann with troubled eyes. "He wants me to tell you that the time is up."

Bann looked down at his watch. The second hand and hour hand overlapped.

It was exactly thirty minutes. The time was up.

"Child, we will meet again in heaven." He closed his eyes sadly and no longer hesitated. Closing the watch, he tossed it into the air. It rolled on the ground and shattered crisply. Time stopped at that moment.

In the stillness, under the piercing noise, Bann stepped forward. He yanked the sword out.

Heaven's Door was activated. A sea of light blossomed above the vault of heaven.

-

As the sea of light surged, the heaven and earth thundered. Somber music played from the iron whale, shaking the world.

In that moment, Father Bann lowered his head. He supported himself with the sword and stopped breathing. It was as if he had died and became a stone statue. However, an incomparable graveness and holiness brewed inside of him.

A lotus bloomed in the sea of light. The radiant flower created by countless ripples bloomed between the sky and earth. It illuminated Paganini's confused face. His white face paled even more. He was once again illuminated by the light that appeared constantly in his nightmares—Heaven's Door… Seeing the light, his spine flared with pain as if it was going to tear apart.

Hundreds of years ago, when he fell into the abyss, the sixth pope had stabbed him in the back. He survived and removed his human body but the pain still remained in his soul. The power of judgement flowed with the music theory, engraving into his soul. It tortured him nightly and still hurt after the centuries. Now, the light cast down like a cold gaze. It was lofty and yet so disdainful.

"Ursicinus!" Paganini spat the sixth pope's name out as if wanting to gnash at his throat. "You're not dead yet! I know! I know! You're even more abnormal than me…"

The moment Heaven's Door opened, the wind tunnel from the abyss froze. It was no longer an exit. The light shone down like God's mercy but it was undeniably cold and cruel. It covered the world inch by inch. Even the Garment began trembling and cracking apart.

A vague figure slowly emerged in the sea of light. As if the door to Heaven had opened, the archangel guarding Heaven wielded a sword of light. He slowly raised his head and walked out. The world was silent.

In the reflection in the sea, the large illusory figure looked down at Paganini. Compared to this vast figure, everything in the world became as insignificant as dust. Who could bear the day of his arrival? Who could withstand his appearance? He was like the fire that smelted gold; he was like the alkali that bleached fabric.

Under the solemn melody, the angel's reflection hoisted the blade and brought it down on Paganini!

"Long time…no see!" Paganini stared at Heaven's Door. Expressions battled on his face until it settled into a look of disdain. "All that pretense is still as disgusting as always."

Paganini opened his mouth.

What he spat out was a strangely beautiful melody. It seemed to have a shape, woven by countless music theories, and transformed into an enchanting side profile. The figure was dressed in a wild yet ancient dress and a painted face. Bathed in darkness, her smile was still bright. She was ignorant to the judgement falling from Heaven. Still intoxicated by the melody, she danced. The song and dance was not demonic or wild at all.

It was just flawless beauty.

There was no so-called holiness or any treacherous feelings from the abyss. The countless music theories had constructed pure beauty. It seemed to have peeled away all pretense to reveal a desire for truth and beauty. No matter how others viewed it or how the morals of the world judged it, it would still continue down this path without any regret.

It was a thirst from the bottom of one's heart.

Thus, the sky and earth were influenced by the melody. They changed and reality transformed under the music theory. It seemed to be reconstructed after breaking apart, turning into a pure and clean world.

It was the Witches' Dance.

Throughout history, only musicians who had a pure desire for music theory could inherit the saintly title of 'Paganini.' This was why Paganini had overlooked the boundary between humanity and demons, choosing to fall into the abyss.

Hundreds of years later, his obsession of abyss music theory had faded from Paganini's core theory. It no longer rejected the Sacred City's strength but neither could influence his true nature. He used pure music theory to combine the two, removing all categorization to become a part of himself.

Under the power of the Witches' Dance, the body that he kept in the abyss was sublimated and purified. It broke free from the mud, transforming back into a vague humanoid figure. It looked like both man and woman and one could tell if it was ugly or beautiful. There was no eeriness or feelings of justice and holiness. It was only filled with the desire and reverence of music.

He had almost broken free from the abyss's restraints and transformed into some sort of product. With time, he may be able to break free from Hyakume and become a new natural catastrophe. Unfortunately, his plan for success was personally ruined by Ye Qingxuan. He was only one step away.

Now, the illusion of Witches' Dance finally clashed with the sword of Heaven's Door. In an instant, everything was swallowed by extreme light. It swallowed Paganini and evaporated the sea of light. The dozens of iron whales shook and were pushed into the distance by the wild power.

Even sound was muted by the uncontrolled power created by the collision. Any eyes that dared to look at the sky were burnt to a crisp.

The two completely different music systems created shockwaves. Within the radius of thousands of miles, all musicians who had constructed a music theory within them, felt their hearts constrict, almost destroyed by the aftershock.

Aether balls and other delicate equipment quickly shattered one by one. Even the observation cauldrons in the iron whale temple and center church cracked. The mercury within evaporated and became useless.

It seemed like eternity before the aftershocks faded.

The city was already destroyed and covered in cracks. Still, it hung in the air illogically. It was like how a light spot reflected on the wall from a mirror would still remain, even if the wall no longer existed.

It was not a true object and did not even exist. It was just a projection from the faraway aether world—an altar supplied for sacrifice and rituals.

Now, the altar had fulfilled its mission and no longer needed to exist. The projection slowly caved in and dissipated into aether.

Surrounded by the shattered statues, hoarse laughter traveled from the broken walls.

"I'm still alive! I'm still alive!" The horribly damaged figure stood atop the ruins. His body was destroyed and the music theory that made up his body was almost completely out of control. But even burnt like that, he was still overjoyed. As if he had heard the funniest joke in the world, he was bent over with laughter. Looking at the cracked sky, Paganini yelled, "You can't kill me! Ursicinus! Do you see this? Me, a sinner who had fallen into the abyss—I'm still alive! And your so-called Heaven is just an empty lie! You can't fool anyone!"

Then something sharp sounded. A blade burning red-hot pierced through his chest. His voice cut off. Behind him, Heaven on Earth had been hidden by moonlight. Now, it slowly shattered, revealing the half-burnt Ye Qingxuan and the unconscious girl in his arms. In his chest, the sub-originator had completely extinguished. There was no more moonlight.

Using the last of his strength, he gripped the Sword in the Stone. Stably and without hesitation, he stabbed the shocked Paganini.

"What a coincidence." Ye Qingxuan looked at his eyes with a tragic smile. "I'm still alive too."

The moment Heaven's Door opened, Paganini no longer had time to care about anyone else. He used all his power against the Sword of Judgement, including the Garment of Original Sin. As a carrier of the dark side of his personality, the Garment was a part of Paganini. It carried his evil thoughts and greed and was no different from an internal organ or a backup body.

The 'infinite movement' ritual instantly began. The Witches' Dance strengthened thousand-fold, pushing it to an unprecedented peak.

The Witches' Dance and the Sword of Judgement clashed. It was an explosion of destruction.

At the same time, Ye Qingxuan charged toward the Sword in the Stone. Right before the flood swallowed him, he touched the hilt. It was enough. The sub-originator, riddled with holes, was activated once again. Like a rabid horse frothing at its mouth while pulling a broken carriage, the sub-originator operated with self-destructive strength. It connected with the Sword and reactivated the twelve Chapters of Golden Victory.

The territory of Heaven on Earth was rebuilt. It did not have time to become as radiant as before. The narrow territory was more like a crude shelter. Then the world began shaking and light swallowed everything.

Ye Qingxuan closed his eyes and retracted all perceptions. He grasped the Sword and hugged Elsa, using all his might to maintain Heaven on Earth. In an instant, cracks appeared on the sub-originator that used his veins and heart. Boiling blood mixed with the moon's glow, spewing from his pores, dyeing the shelter red.

A jagged crack appeared on Heaven on Earth but it managed to recover.

For the first time, Ye Qingxuan forgot everything. He put everything into the Abstinence music theory, maintaining this small territory without caring about anything else. This was a thousand times harder than at Naica. Only a second was enough to practically destroy him.

In a daze, he had lost all consciousness but his body kept urging the Sword on, mending Heaven on Earth again and again.

After who knew how long, the destructive aftershocks finally faded. He woke from his daze but everything was black. He heard vague laughter. It dragged him from his deep sleep. Power from somewhere caused him to grasp the sword hilt and stab toward the laughter.

Squelch! Pierced through. All he saw was Paganini's shocked face.

Ye Qingxuan laughed even if he was on his last breath.

"You—how can you…" Paganini muttered in shock, "…still alive?" A sharp cracking sound was heard from his body. Like a burnt piece of porcelain, cracks snaked from where the blade was. The beastly theory within the twelve Chapters of Golden Victory acted like poison. Like the straw that broke the camel's back, it pushed Paganini's well-thought-out 'body prototype' toward destruction.

He had abandoned his human body and suffered in the abyss, gathered music theories, and worked for centuries to create this 'perfect shell.' Even as a prototype, it had withstood the attack of Heaven's Door. But now it was destroyed so easily by a sword?

Again? He was destroyed by the same person again?!

His face twitching, he destroyed the last bit of grace and calm. All that remained was psychotic fierceness. The fury from long ago took over once again—even though his body was close to collapsing.

"Ye Qingxuan!"

Slapped by a broken hand, Ye Qingxuan's body tumbled backward like an empty bag. Paganini gritted his teeth. Without caring that his body was deteriorating, he rushed forward and stomped on Ye Qingxuan's face. His eyes were cruel.

"You think I'll die like that? Don't worry. It's okay if this body dies. I can spend some time to make another one!"

Spend some time? It sounded simple but everyone knew that Paganini must pay for it. His face grew more menacing.

"Thanks to you, I'm not strong enough to take you into the abyss anymore. Are you relieved? But don't get too happy."

As soon as he finished, Ye Qingxuan screamed. The damaged Garment had transformed into a black sword and stabbed Ye Qingxuan's shoulder. Blood splattered onto Paganini's white face, making the broken face even uglier.

"I have a way to solve this problem. If I can't take your entire body back, I can just take your head. Isn't that right?"

Paganini sneered. Gripping the sword, he aimed at Ye Qingxuan's neck as if finding the right place to start. Then Ye Qingxuan lifted his heavy eyes and looked at Paganini's ferocious face.

Paganini stiffened. In the daze, he saw dim moonlight flash past those eyes. In the moonlight, he saw a vague side profile. The silhouette was so familiar and yet transient like a hallucination. "Ye Lanzhou? It's you…"

The figure in the moonlight turned around and looked at Paganini, eyes filled with pity and sympathy as if looking at a wild dog.

Sympathy? Pity? Paganini raged. Why the sympathy? Why the pity?!

"You're dead! You're rotting in a coffin!" he roared at the youth's darkening eyes. "Why do you pity me? Your tricks can't fool me!"

No one replied. Perhaps he had seen a hallucination but he refused to believe it.

"Ye Lanzhou, come out!" he yelled to all directions. "I know you're here! You arranged all of this, right? You always have a hidden card! Get out! Come kill me! Just like how you played me before! Don't you always dream of proving your innocence? You couldn't forget your wife even in death! Come out, come out and kill me! Then you can go beg for forgiveness from the Sacred City like a dog!"

Still, no one replied.

Ye Lanzhou was long dead. Or did he not want to take Paganini's life?

Paganini stared blankly at the still and broken world. In the sky, the iron whales were slowly closing in. Black dots parachuted from them and he could hear faint whistles in the distance. The Knights Templar was approaching. He had no time to hesitate.

Lowering his head, he looked at Ye Qingxuan's eyes again. He finally realized that there was no moonlight in those empty eyes. He only saw his reflection. His face, crazed like a rabid dog, was disgusting.

The insignificant reflection reminded him of his laughable state. He had abandoned his status as a saint for his desire of music theory. Falling into the abyss, he had thought he was high and mighty but without realizing, he had become so laughable.

You've already lost, a mocking voice said in his heart. Paganini, why are you still lying to yourself? You have many excuses to explain everything but you've completely lost this. You were defeated by a mere musician. You don't have any dignity left.

Gaping at Ye Qingxuan's face, Paganini seemed to be seeing him but also someone extremely similar. Finally, he buried his face and howled with laughter, laughing at himself. "In the end, you still won," he murmured.

Throwing down his sword, the craze faded from his face until all that remained was a terrifying serenity. He lifted Ye Qingxuan's neck, looking at the pale face. Ye Qingxuan looked back with difficulty.

"You win, Ye Qingxuan," Paganini stated without any reservation. His voice was dark and cold, devoid of any wildness. "I admit, you toyed with me like a cat playing with a mouse. As a failure that had fallen into the abyss, I've never felt such humiliation. This battle was filled with emotions, hard work, and victory.

"Justice won over evil; love and peace defeated greed and fighting. There are no flaws. It can practically be written into history books. What happened today deserves to be written about in your life…" He paused. His eyes grew cruel as if watching a child play with fire in the distance. "But sadly, you're dreaming."

Looking down at Elsa lying in the ruins, his voice hardened. "What do you think you're doing? All your sacrifices since the beginning were meaningless? You're doing it for yourself, thinking you're right. Even if you defeated me, even if you did everything to save her…do you think she'll have a future and be happy? Or, do you think the world will be as you wish?"

In that moment, Ye Qingxuan understood what he meant and was overcome with fear.

"Stop living in dreams, Ye Qingxuan." He tossed the youth to the ground and looked at his face of fear. He laughed. His smile was full of icy animosity as if watching a bubble about to be popped. "Time to wake up."

Under the metallic clangs from the distance, his body crumbled bit by bit. A narrow gap leading to the abyss opened in his broken body. It swallowed him and he sank into the abyss.

Ye Qingxuan fell to the ground. He was still trembling from the animosity from those words. Reinforcement was here so why was he scared? Blood flowed from his shoulder wound, taking away his body heat. Maybe it was because the fire was extinguished so now his body slowly froze to the bones. Even his lungs and heart were shaking from the sudden cold. He was terrified like a kid who was about to be thrown into the icy wilderness.

The sound of metal boots approached. The piercing sound suddenly woke him from his dream. Using all of his strength, he used his hands and crawled forward. Bit by bit, he painted the ground red with blood.

"Elsa…"

The cold statues stared at him, enjoying his pathetic state. Their broken mouths seemed to be smiling. Pale fingers pressed onto those faces, leaving behind marks of bloody pain. Ye Qingxuan crawled past them bit by bit.

"Elsa…"

He stared at the sleeping girl in the distance. As if waking up from a long dream, the girl finally startled awake. She opened her eyes, not knowing where she was or who she was. She stared blankly at Ye Qingxuan, this unfamiliar youth. She did not understand why he was in such pain and did not understand…why his gaze was so sad.

"Run, Elsa!" Ye Qingxuan stared at her eyes. His broken vocal chords emitted a distorted voice, "Run! They're here to…"

The heavy steps were closer and they could hear swords being unsheathed. Ye Qingxuan lowered his head, hiding his weak tears. "They're here to…kill you!"

"Ye Qingxuan?" Steel boots stopped before him. The priest clad in a red cloak looked down. His face was somber as metal.

They all had a blood-red holy emblem before their chests. Their arm plates were carved with the Discipline Hammer—the emblem of Witch Hammer, the Church Ministry of Information's secret institution.

These priests were known as sanctors. They were the elites left behind when the Inquisition disbanded. They were responsible for checking the thoughts of every priest, ensuring that their religious beliefs were pure and true, untainted by the temptations of the abyss. When necessary, they would burn the perpetrators at the stake.

They existed secretly even in Knights Templar so the knights could implement the Sacred City's orders at critical points without outside interference.

Now, the sanctor bent down, locking a pair of black handcuffs around Ye Qingxuan's wrists. "You were reported to be suspected of betraying your brethren during the trial and colluding with the demons. You will now be arrested for further investigation."

Around him, the priests moved their blood-red cloaks, revealing their hands wrapped around sword hilts. The message was chilling: "If you dare protest, you will be killed immediately."

Ye Qingxuan stared blankly at his handcuffs but his eyes went past them and the crowd to where Elsa was.

The priests quietly waiting for a command finally received a reply and nodded.

"Understood."

Thus, they no longer hesitated. They pulled out their red-hot blades and aimed at the blank girl.

"In the name of the Sacred City established by the nations," the sanctor announced the belated judgement, "purify this demon!"

Something shattered. Then there was a cry of pain and the youth's roar of anger like a lion. The moment the handcuffs clicked, Ye Qingxuan looked up, his eyes burning with furious moonlight. The dim moon lit up again in his chest, as blinding as the sun. The sub-originator that had inherited Avalon's enchantment's core music theory had exploded!

Blood boiled and moonlight burned in his body! This was the final desperate melody from the School of Stone Heart. He reversed the sub-originator and fully activated the aether within him. He could instantaneously break through all past restraints and receive unprecedented power.

And the cost…f*ck the costs! He didn't care if his sub-originator shattered, if his heart disappeared, or if he lost his life…It did not matter even if he burned himself to nothing!

Wild moonlight filled his empty body. Blood poured from his pores, causing his body to swell and face to bruise. He was ugly like a monster crawled out from Hell. The aether inside his body turned his bones to iron and his flesh to stone. He was transformed into something inhuman—a furious and burning piece of metal about to explode!

"Get—" He grasped the handcuffs. Metallic veins bulged on his arms, "—the f*ck out!"

Boom! The black handcuffs instantly distorted and warped. Broken shards of metal flew from his hands, turning silver-white under the moonlight. They were full of murderous intent as they broke through the air.

It was the Sword!

The red-hot blade instantly warped. Countless shields and armor emerged on the priest but then they all shattered and he flew back.

Ye Qingxuan climbed up from the ground and pounced onto the priest before him, grasping the sword hilt. The priest looked at his horrible face in shock. Ye Qingxuan grinned like a demon. Then he pulled the sword out and swung!

The red-clothed sanctor blocked reflexively but his armor twisted and shattered. He was thrown out and rolled on the ground, unable to get up.

At the same time, the other priests all attacked. The members of the Witch Hammer were chosen from the best of the Knights Templar and musicians. Not only were they skilled swordsmen, they also needed to be at the official musician level. Otherwise, they would be tainted by the abyss while fighting.

Now, the dozens of priests unsheathed their swords and a familiar melody rang out. First came the majestic trumpet. Silver-white cones shot from their waists. Zipping past the air, they linked into a chain to wrap around him.

It was Night on Bald Mountain! However, they did not get the fire and judgement that they expected. The chains wrapped around Ye Qingxuan but did not harm him. Not a bit of his power came from the abyss!

The priests froze. Within the cage, Ye Qingxuan roared! Snatching a sword from a priest, he hacked at the bars. Shards flew under the tragic sounds. Within the countless chains, Ye Qingxuan looked up, welcoming the priests' swords with red eyes.

He took one step and another. Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop! The youth was like a humanoid monster. He broke the chains, tore apart the shackles, and swung his sword down at every obstacle without hesitation.

"F*ck off!" His swordsmanship was extremely rough. He was practically waving the sword around like a stick. Anyone who was trained could block his blows with their eyes closed. But the sword was shrouded in aggressive electric light. Everything in its path burned. It was Indrah's Eye!

The moment the sword made contact, the Eye would jump into one's body from the blade. No matter what the priests did, they would be completely numbed and pushed aside!

In his empty chest, moonlight wavered and let out a thunderous boom. An invisible river surged, stirring the sanity of anyone close enough. Their visions went black and thoughts slowed, destroyed by the psychotic youth even though they also left fatal wounds on him.

Within a few steps, his body was covered in dozens of wounds. He was dyed with blood. The priest who had been hit first now climbed up. Without caring for his twisted arms, he looked at the young man's wild figure with dilated pupils.

"He's crazy!"

Crazy? Perhaps. Ye Qingxuan had sunk into a daze but he could still feel the anger burning inside. His blood and moonlight became the firewood. The fire burned furiously; he did not care even if his soul was dragged in.

In this daze, he was like a wild beast, hacking at all obstacles with a sword. In his other hand, he gripped a broken straw doll.

In this daze, he heard a girl's cute laughter. Just like that afternoon, the girl squatted before him, resting her chin in her hands, and laughed as she looked at him. Her hair was flaxen-colored. Under the sunlight, it seemed to be speckled with gold.

"I'm looking for someone…because I'm worried he'll be scared by himself… I'm like that so I know he'll be scared too. He doesn't have anything and he's scared to be alone. It's sad… I made him a doll. With this doll beside him, he won't be scared anymore."

The youth roared. Blood fell into his mouth with a metallic smell.

Ye Qingxuan, she wants to save you… She doesn't remember you but she still remembers that someone is just like herself and will be scared when alone… So she still remembers to make a doll for him. That way, he would be saved right? No longer lonely, he'll be happy even without a family. So you must save her!

Growling, he slammed down the broken blade, cutting apart the last obstacle. He dove into the man's arms. His bloody hands stopped the wrist and blade. Then he looked up, crashing upward.

Boom! The priest fell. Ye Qingxuan stepped on his body, stumbling forward. He dropped the warped sword and reached out to hug the scared girl.

"Don't be afraid, Elsa." He painfully squeezed out a smile. His bruised face was ugly like a demon. "It's me. Don't be afraid, Elsa. I'll take you home."

Elsa stared blankly at him but did not struggle. She let the bloodied man pick her up. Blood poured from Ye Qingxuan's forehead to her face. She looked up at the young man's side profile. Finally, she distinguished the familiar contours and seemed to wake from her trance.

"I remember you…" Smiling, she reached out to touch his cheeks.

But Ye Qingxuan paled and stumbled to the ground. His strength was leaving him rapidly. He could feel that, in that instant, the wildly operating sub-originator had truly collapsed. His burning blood cooled again. The moonlight dissipated from his body, dancing in the air like butterflies.

Someone walked up. Yanking his head up, the man threw him to the ground and looked down. He held a strange yet familiar sword. It was the 'anti-tune.'

Ye Qingxuan knew what it was. Ancient Revelations musicians created it to undo all enchantments. It was the natural enemy of his sub-originator, which was already at the brink of collapse.

"It's you…" He looked up at the familiar man with fury. "Colt?"

"It's rare to see you so pitiful, Ye Qingxuan." Colt smiled and patted his face. "You should feel fortunate that you have a good Father." With that, he rose and ordered to the priests beside him, "Take him away. After all…he's already useless."

They dragged Ye Qingxuan up and stabbed a needle into his neck, forcefully injecting him with tranquilizers and valuable medicine. The Choir music score maintained his life, preventing him from ending up like the sub-originator.

Three Choir musicians stood around him, tending to him as if they were scared he would die before the judgement trial. Handcuffed again, he faded in and out of consciousness.

Colt turned toward Elsa. He held the 'anti-tune' sword behind him…

"Colt!" Ye Qingxuan struggled with all his might. He roared and tried to grab Colt but he could not move. He desperately tried to awaken the Heaven Ladder but he could no longer use his talent. He no longer had anything to pay or gamble with.

"Don't kill her!" Lowering his head, he paid the last bit of his dignity. Tears flowing, he knelt onto the ground. "Please…"

Colt grabbed Elsa's hair. Hearing Ye Qingxuan's voice, he paused and could not help but laugh. He turned around, asking, "What did you say?"

Ye Qingxuan opened his mouth to speak.

Colt's blade sliced Elsa's throat. Blood spewed out. His smile was dyed red.

Ye Qingxuan froze. He gaped at the redness dancing gently in the air, dancing with the broken moonlight. The sight was cruel yet beautiful, like a flower that used up all its beauty in bloom. It died in an instant, taking away everything.

Elsa fell to the ground.

She stopped breathing.

She was dead.

As if she had fallen asleep again, her lips were still curved in a smile. She had closed her eyes, falling into a sweet dream and welcoming the coming of serenity. The eternal slumber had arrived. She was now in the final happiness. Her confused soul could finally be at peace.

"AH!" Ye Qingxuan screamed, struggling with all his might to touch her and wake her once again. But no matter how he yelled her name, Elsa replied no more.

A priest clad in red stepped forward and slammed a sword hilt onto his head. He froze, falling unconscious. Darkness overtook him.

"Little Yezi, don't be afraid." The sad voice seemed to ring from the depths of a nightmare. Like a slim hand caressing his cheeks, it was cruelly gentle.

"Be strong, little Yezi. Don't be afraid…Don't be scared… Run, Yezi, hurry and run. Never come back…because from now on, you're alone again."

-

In the darkness, countless memories surged, broke, and were put back together.

After who knew how long, Ye Qingxuan opened his eyes, waking from the long nightmare. He saw the white ceiling and IV drip. Blue-purple medicine was hung there, dripping into him from the tube and keeping him alive.

After a long while, he asked quietly, "Where am I?"

"This is the Asgardian border. You're in the hospital." Old Dominic sat beside the window. Hearing Ye Qingxuan's voice, he opened his eyes and replied hoarsely, "Knights Templar used up a lot of precious material to keep you alive. Many people came to see you but they all left. You woke up too late."

"Hospital?" Ye Qingxuan laughed. "I thought I'd be in the Sacred City's dungeon."

"Colt reported you for working with the dark musicians and betraying humanity," Dominic said. "Thankfully, many people didn't believe him. You have some good friends who spoke up for you. Miller's family is apparently influential in the School of Choir. They paid great costs to save you. Torre and Casper also did a lot. Many grandmasters from the School of Destruction were willing to vouch for you. Of course, there's also Bach's student. The new scepter Wolf Flute supported you strongly.

"They are still investigating a bunch of things but you are clean of any guilt. Congratulations, you are innocent."

"…How many days have passed?"

"Five days."

"Oh." Ye Qingxuan stared up at the white ceiling. After a long time, he asked, "What about Elsa?"

Dominic fell silent before sighing. "Don't you already know? She's dead. The Romulusians disappeared too, along with that city. After Elsa died, they all disappeared."

"Really? I see." Ye Qingxuan's voice was flat as if hearing something unrelated to him. He asked softly, "What about Colt? Where is he?"

Dominic thought for a bit and answered, "Probably on the way to the Sacred City?"

"Sacred City?"

"Yes. He was the only one who succeeded in this trial. He performed well this time and successfully stopped the natural catastrophe and abyss's damage to the human world. He received much praise and rewards from the Sacred City. They call him the star of the future. The Sacred City is probably preparing for his canonizing ritual now.

"But he announced his departure from the Rock Institute a few days ago. Apparently, he has cut off all ties with the School of Secret Keepers and joined the Church. Now he is planning to become a sanctor.

"His teacher probably wants to strangle him, right? But unfortunately, he's part of the Sacred City now. No one can do anything to him."

"Oh, I see." Ye Qingxuan closed his eyes as if falling asleep. But after a while, he suddenly said, "Mr. Dominic, can you help me? I need to send a letter."

The old man was taken aback but quickly laughed. "Yes. Before coming, the principal told me that the Sword in the Stone represents the royal authority of Anglo. As long as you don't touch the Sword, everything is allowed."

Ye Qingxuan opened his eyes. "Really? Everything is allowed?"

Dominic looked into his black eyes. He faintly saw a kingdom of the dead. A sharp light emerged in the blackness like lightning that could swallow a soul. It was just a flash but it was terrifying.

Thus, he smiled and bowed. "Ye Qingxuan, ever since you pulled out the Sword, you became the inheritor after Maxwell. You will be the next principal of the Royal Academy of Music and the future queen's minister.

"You need not have any worries. Walk the path you must, fight the battles you must, hold the morals you must. From now on, Anglo will ensure that the crown of justice is always for you."

-

Five days ago, a long yet joyful conversation in the Soul Hall of the Sacred City came to an end at dawn.

Hermes got up from the ground. "Let's end here." He patted the dust from his body and looked up at the empty ceiling. "Thanks, old friend. Ever since that *sshole Eastern lord ended things with me, it was hard to find an old friend to talk to. Thanks to the Sacred City's 'mercy,' you're still this half-dead thing but it's great to see you before leaving."

Nibelungenlied remained silent. Just as Hermes was about to leave, he called out, "Hermes, I have a question."

"Hmm?" Hermes turned around.

"During this event, you designed the future path for the Romulusians and asked the King of Yellow to extend their life and bloodline. You failed but I still have a question." Nibelungenlied asked, "Where did he go?"

"He's tired of everything already, isn't he?" Hermes smiled mysteriously. "You all know and your pope knows too. The day he rushed into the Papal Palace and argued with the King of Red, he was already disappointed in everything.

"He hates this world and yet must protect it so he wanted to get as far away as possible. He already left, Nibelungenlied. He wants some 'peace and quiet,' so I took him to a good place.

"Now, he's in a very quiet and faraway place. When he has time, he can sleep. When he's awake, he can look at the world and think about his life and the meaning of the world. As far as I know, he likes this kind of life."

"I see," Nibelungenlied said. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. But I do have to warn you, don't spend more effort on observing. What will happen next, ha…" Hermes shook his head. "There's no point."

"Aren't you curious about the result?"

"There won't be a second result." Hermes looked away. "Have you ever seen an angered dragon?"

"Are you speaking of the 'Dragon of Destruction'?" Nibelungenlied seemed to have some thoughts. "Do you think the youth is someone terrifying enough to rival the Dragon of Destruction?"

"No, the Dragon is scary but it's still just a beast." Hermes chuckled and raised a finger. "I'm comparing him to the third King of Red, the crazy one who beheaded the Red Dragon, even though the cost was burning half of the Sacred City down."

"You know, a crazy man's lovable trait is that he lives in his own world. He's only loyal to his own ideals. He has a principle, a bottom line, and ethics. He's basically perfect. You can hate him or fear him but as long as you stay away, he won't mess with you. But the most annoying trait is that…once he wants to murder, no one can stop him."

In the stillness, Hermes pushed the door open. Wind and snow swept in, landing on his shoulders. "I didn't know it snows in the Sacred City too," he whispered, disappearing into the snowstorm.

It was a bustling afternoon. In Ouistreham, an iron ship stopped at the busy port.

Hot afternoon sunlight shone down. The man beside the window found it annoying and pulled the curtains, blocking the noise and eyes from outside. Inside the dim cabin suite, the young man looked back at the old man on the other side of the table.

The old man placed an opened letter on the table and pushed it over slowly. The young man yawned lazily and looked up. "Grandmaster Bono, what is this?"

"This is from the dean." Grandmaster Bono stared coldly at the young man. He said hoarsely, "Take it, Colt, and the Institute will not forget the past."

Colt lowered his head. Looking at the letter, he rubbed at it and laughed. Pushing it back, he replied indifferently, "Grandmaster, I already wrote very clearly in the letter that I am not the suitable talent for this school. I have no ability to bear the school's expectations so I choose to back out. Why must the Institute be like this?"

"Do you know what you are saying, Colt?" Grandmaster Bono's eyes darkened. "For centuries, there has never been a precedent. The day you inherited the School of Secret Keeper's music theory, you swore that you will be a member of the School for life. The only way out is death.

"You are still young and do not understand the cost of this. We are willing to forgive you as long as you take this letter back." His voice was eerie. Even the air became stinging but Colt was still unmoved. He looked at the old man with a mocking smile.

"Forgive? That word sounds so nice." He shook his head, chuckling. "I never heard of this word when I was still a nameless musician. Now that I'm famous, the entire world became merciful and filled with gentle love. But sadly, it's too late!" He flicked the letter back into Bono's arms. He stated, "Please go back, Grandmaster Bono. I will never return to the School of Secret Keeper. Or…" He paused, his smile growing meaningful. "Will you choose to take me back by force?"

Bono frowned. Something chilling flashed past his eyes. In the stillness, he tapped his finger lightly but it froze in the air. In the silence, the air of the empty cabin seemed to stagnate. Faint buzzes of swords came from either side of the cabin. After a long while, he lowered his finger slowly and glared at Colt. Forcing down his anger, his eyes darkened. "Colt, do you think you can arrive at the Sacred City safely?"

Colt laughed. "Do you dare touch me?"

After the Auschwitz battle, Colt had become famous for his hero image. He had saved many musicians without caring for himself. Grasping the opportunity to wound the fallen saint Paganini and many other events had added another halo to his image.

He was the hero who protected humanity against the natural catastrophe, a shockingly talented musician as shown from the trial, and he had received the music score 'Emperor' from the Sacred City. He was moving smoothly toward the scepter level and would become a saint in the future. Now, he had joined the Ministry of Information and was well-trusted. He was given the position of confidential secretary even before the official ceremony and had a bright future.

Under this situation, even the School of Secret Keepers or the Rock Institute would need to consider the Sacred City before acting. Otherwise, Colt would be facing the Secret Keepers' assassin rather than grandmaster Bono.

Colt knew better than anyone that the School could do nothing!

"Us?" Grandmaster Bono looked at his arrogant smile and shook his head. "Colt, you should know who truly wants to hurt you. Otherwise, you have no reason to hide your tracks, disguise yourself as a noble, and hide in a ship full of immigrants. Even the School needed to use the Lighthouse to find you. Who are you hiding from?"

Rather than replying, Colt just waved his hands in disinterest, practically dismissing the grandmaster.

"Since you insist on the wrong direction, I will not waste more time here. Hope you will receive what you wish for, Colt." Grandmaster Bono did not lose his temper. He rose indifferently and left. The moment he pushed the door open, he glanced behind Colt. It was empty of any belongings. Sneering, he closed the door.

The grandmaster clad in gray was like an elderly traveler. He walked up the deck with his cane. He brushed past the sailors transporting objects and food, and went past the sunbathing immigrants and merchants with their products. He walked off the ship and entered the port market.

Soon, the ship behind him whistled and left the port. Bono watched as the ship faded into the distance. His lips moved slightly under his white whiskers.

"Did you hear that, Heisenberg? That's your student."

Thousands of miles away, Heisenberg opened his eyes in the silent room. He had been observing Bono through the Lighthouse and had naturally witnessed everything Colt had said.

Smoking in silence, he sighed. "It was my mistake. I never thought that this dog would have a wolf's blood. I underestimated him."

"We must clear him out," Bono said coldly. "The Lighthouse's secret music theory is the heart of the School. We mustn't let it out."

"No need." Heisenberg closed his eyes again. "A dog that becomes a wolf will seem impressive and enjoy the fame but once his ambition is satisfied, he'll start to feel scared… Believe me, Bono, he'll regret this. Soon."

-

After Bono left, the cabin returned to silence. Colt stood up and bowed respectfully to the air behind him. "Thank you for your help, grandmaster Philip.

Two burly priests clad in blood-red walked out from the two sides of the suite. Their right arms under the red robes were metal prosthetics. The technology from the Chainsaw Fraternity had given them unimaginable strength and an almost undefeatable body. They guarded the door with their heads down, silent as a statue.

A frail old man walked out of the illusion before Colt. He was hunched and leaned on a cane. He was all skin and bones and his loose skin was covered in wrinkles and spots. However, his eyes were pure white. Those eerie eyes seemed to see every person's secrets and were chilling.

"No need to thank me. It is my duty." He coughed. "It is the Ministry's first time to accept an outsider in all these years and you are a future saint. It is rare to find such talent so we must be careful. I will send a warning letter to the Rock Institute under the Church's name. You need not worry." He paused and his voice grew dangerous. "However, I hope this type of thing will not occur in the Ministry, understand?"

Colt's smile did not change and he lowered his head further. "Please do not worry. Is there any place for me if I leave the Ministry?"

Philip's expression grew satisfied. He patted Colt's shoulder. "No, no. Colt, you are young and talented. You will shine wherever you go. It is our honor that you chose the Ministry."

The two met eyes and smiled but both knew deep inside.

Soon, someone knocked on the door and passed in a letter. The footsteps faded away. The two guards looked at the mark and gave the letter to Philip. Without saying anything after reading, Philip handed it to Colt.

Colt's expression grew ugly. "He…woke up so quickly?" His eyes changed but quickly returned to normal.

"Are you worrying over the new sword bearer of Anglo?" Philip asked. "If he used the Sword in the Stone without caring for the consequences, it would truly be a problem."

"No need to worry about that." Colt shook his head. "From what I know, he inherited the theory from the School of Stone Heart. Everything is built on the sub-originator and he's useless after it shattered. He might not even be able to be an official musician, let alone use the Sword."

"Oh?" Philip nodded. "Anglo must hate you."

"Even so, they are powerless." Colt snickered. "I am the best of the new generation of musicians now and the future saint that the Pope had rewarded. Will they hurt me for a useless man and risk the accusations of the nations and punishment of the Sacred City?" Despite his words, he still felt fear. He sat in the chair and tried to find the source of the fear. All that he could think of were those empty eyes.

Under those shackles, the youth's face had been ghastly pale. Reflecting the girl's blood, those empty eyes seemed to have been dyed red, like a womb after a miscarriage. Something scary was born at that moment.

A knock on the door made his shoulders shudder as if startling awake from a nightmare. He glanced at the door instinctively with menace. The two guards exchanged glances and one went over to check.

"Who is it?"

It was a server who managed to dress properly. However his shirt was threadbare and his pants had faded from washing. In the steel platter that he held were two heated steaks and some food that could only keep one from going hungry and nothing more.

"Sir, the dinner you requested is here."

The guards exchanged glances. One held his sword and stood beside the door. The other opened it. The server handed the food to the priest who looked like a true server. But when the door was about to close, the server suddenly reached out to stop the door. His other hand went into his pocket.

"Wait…" he said.

The priest who had taken the food looked up. Coldness flashed past his eyes. The one behind him unsheathed the sword soundlessly and stared silently at the door. He could stab the server's skull in an instant. The atmosphere was chilling.

"Anything else?" The priest looked at the server coldly.

He gulped and sweated profusely. Sticking his neck back subconsciously, his forced smile stiffened. He awkwardly pulled out a colorful card. "Sir, would you like some service?" Hands shaking, he offered the card drawn with a scantily clad girl. "Hot Burgundian girl for only six-no, forty pounds…" As he spoke, his words became smoother. Finally, he put on a knowing and lustful smile, oblivious to the fact that he was at the brink of death. "If you have any needs, we have younger ones too!"

"No need." The priest coldly glanced at the card. He tore it apart and threw it into the trash before slamming the door shut in the server's face. Then he took out a black toothpick. After testing for poison, he brought the platter over.

Colt took a few bites of the steak blankly before losing his appetite. He kept thinking through the details for anything that could reveal him. He still could not pinpoint where the feeling of danger came from. Then his finger trembled. Looking up, his expression was drastically different.

"No!"

This ship was a crude put-together short-distance ship. It relied on transporting poor immigrants and even the highest class cabin suite was old and smelled of mold. Rich people would definitely not go on this ship. They could choose safer and more comfortable ones.

Who would spend forty pounds on a prostitute?

"That card!" He spun toward the trash can. "Where's the card?"

The two guards quickly rifled through and found the pieces of paper. But after investigation, they could not find anything abnormal. There was no poison or tricks. It was just a regular piece of paper.

"Relax, Colt." Philip looked up from the old sofa. "There's no need to be paranoid. I am here."

Colt's face alternated between green and white. It was hard to tell if he was frustrated over his mistake or embarrassed over his fear. "Sorry, I'm overthinking."

As soon as he finished, there was a crisp sound.

The god of death had arrived.

-

Twenty minutes ago, the ship was about to set sail. Under the loud whistle, grandmaster Bono brushed past the sailors who were transporting food and grains. He walked off and disappeared in the sea of people.

The bare-chested sailors smoked and happily exchanged crude jokes. Lipstick stains remained on their sweaty bodies. Boxes full of grain and products went from carts and their shoulders to be transported to the bottom hold. However, some men snuck into the messy ship and disappeared.

A few minutes later, someone walked into a sailor's room. After tying up the owner and stuffing him under the bed, he politely changed out of his clothes, stuck on a rubber mask and stuffed a brothel card from the trash can into his pocket.

He looked just right. Studying himself in the mirror, he made a few faces and walked out, satisfied.

"Second floor, suite room C2." A sailor slacking off squatted in the hall to smoke gave him the address. "It's the best room right by the captain's room. They're really careful and can see every change. It's hard so you better be careful."

"When do we ever get easy jobs?" The 'server' stuffed a stack of money into the sailor's pocket. "This is yours. Have you made the holes in the lifeboats?"

"Holes? Do you want me to stuff some candles into it too?" The sailor grinned, somewhat mockingly. "No need. I've been here for six years and no one's ever fixed up the lifeboats. That *sshole captain's sold everything himself. The two lifeboats are dupes. They're gone if they touch water. Honestly, if you wanna do something big, you don't have to do all this. Just wait until we get to a yellow zone and," he mimed an explosion, "no one'll know."

"Some of the people here have sinned but do not deserve death. They should have a chance to atone for their sins before going to hell," the server replied. "Anyway, the client requested to try not to hurt the innocent."

"So professional," the sailor said in awe. "You talk like a priest."

The server smiled and left without replying. When he reached the cabin, the man behind him said, "Say hi to Mr. Holmes for me. I don't owe him anymore." He looked back to see the sailor snuff out his cigarette and leave.

Ten minutes later, the door slammed in his face, flattening the leering smile. He bent over and cried out in pain dramatically. His finger dabbed the paint on his sleeve and discreetly drew some red dots on the cabin wall. When his arm was stuck in the door, he had used the brass button on his wrist to see all their positions clearly.

At the corner of the hallway, he brushed past a group of passengers. When he rubbed his nose, his lips moved slightly.

"One is three steps, the other is six. They're musicians and two more are at the door. They have armor under their clothes."

The group walked away while laughing and talking happily while the server returned to his room.

In a few other rooms, the dust cloths covering the furniture and beds were lifted the moment the door closed. The men and women of various ages took off their jackets, revealing the skintight leather clothing underneath.

The dust clothes revealed various alchemy parts which were put together quickly into a large machine. A black crossbow car, practically half a man's height, was lifted under their teamwork. The carpet was moved aside, showing a space they had prepared. Bloated screws were put in to anchor the car in place.

"Adjust the angle." An engineer with glasses tore off a few pages of notes scrawled with calculations and pasted them onto the car.

"Nine o'clock, adjust sixteen degrees. Twelve o'clock, left eight degrees, sixth level cabin. Seven o'clock, coverage attack."

Under the messy clothing in the suitcase, they completed the setup of an arrow as wide as a child's arm. It was placed into the car, embedding into the machine as the gears turned. As the car moved, it refracted the afternoon sun from outside the window onto a somber face. It created a chilling metallic sheen. With the angle adjustments, the car aimed at the men in the suite through the cabin levels. The final checkup was complete.

Under a mind-numbing muffled sound, the car's coils were pulled taut. With a click, the final protective measures were removed. The fatal arrow would shoot forward with one move.

In the stillness, everyone's faces were calm and serious. They lowered their heads and half-knelt onto the ground, praying under the engineer's guidance.

"The mourning bell will soon sound. For you, my lord." Their voices were low and grave as if melting into the stone. "Please release your judgement so that the sinners would receive punishment, so the ones who received punishment would be saved in hell. We will carry out your judgement and let their souls fill the river flowing toward you for eternity."

The engineer lowered his eyes and drew the holy emblem before his chest.

"Under the name of the holy city, the holy spirit, and the holy son… Shoot!"

Boom! First, the trigger moved and the springs clicked. The gears began turning and steel wires whistled in the air. The heavy black arrow broke through.

As if in slow motion, the sunder arrow tore through the air, leaving behind water-like ripples. It broke past the cabin walls gently like water going into sand. The cabin exploded with a gaping hole. White waves of air surged. Every piece of glass shattered and dropped into the sea. The arrow roared and pierced through the cabin floors like a dragon.

One level, two, three, four… Finally, it tore apart the walls of the suite, entering as a cold metallic flash behind the priest clad in red. The unmoving priest suddenly shook. His metal prosthetic emitted hot steam. Electricity shot from his sheath like a sword, slicing down.

It stopped.

Then the blade shattered. Shards dug into his chest, cutting him. The bones underneath were ghastly white. The arrow continued forward without weakening. It pulverized his chest, spine, and made a tragic hole in his body. Finally, it embedded into the wall, the arrow quivering.

Right before that, Philip's face changed. Cold light shot from his eyes. He put his hands together in prayer and the apparition of the holy emblem appeared behind him, enveloping him.

Pure white light shone from his hands. They shot toward Colt like shooting stars, covering him. In the next moment, the light shook, clasping around the whizzing arrow.

Staring at the arrow only a few centimeters away, sweat poured from Colt.

In that instant, countless arrows suddenly exploded.

Like flowers.

The arrow seemed to have been made from fine steel and compressed into shape. However, it was actually countless pieces of paper-thin metal wrapped around a frame in layers. The frame was constructed with fine details. It could break at a light push. However, its speed was too fast. In just a moment, it was already past layers of obstacles. But then in an instant, the frame bent. The countless steel plates snapped open in response, curling up like an angered snake.

However, the curled plates did not fly out. They remained on the frame and shook wildly, going through thousands of reverberations in an instant. They turned into thousands of 'needle reeds.' The trembling air whistled and the rising noise joined, creating an almost solid cacophony.

The aether in its path shook, going crazy. This was like a miniature version of Zhaodang. It used countless reeds to create disordered aether waves. The piercing melody chased away all aether, transforming the tight space into a temporary 'aether vacuum.' Then the cabin wall rumbled and shattered!

A warrior in heavy armor burst through the wall. The moment the iron giant appeared, Philip's expression changed. "Knights Templar? Bann, you dare—" But then he stopped. He knew where this armor came from. Anyone with eyes would know!

The warrior's armor was nothing like that of the Knights Templar. It seemed to be made of raw metal and forcefully put together and smelted. The shell still contained nails and signs of repair. There was nothing delicate or majestic about it. It was as ugly as a beast, a crazy giant, or a Frankenstein. It was pure aggressive menace.

At the warrior's shoulder, black paint created the combination of gears and the holy emblem. It was an abnormality that had split from the Church a century ago. It was a school that used pure human power to cross the Dark World and develop new land—the Chainsaw Fraternity!

This group of priests who had struggled in the Dark World never shied away from dirty trade. They accepted money for any job, killing and setting fires without any fear. In battle, they could hold a sword in their left hand and beat their enemies with a bible in their right hand. If the god that the Sacred City worshipped was merciful, then the Chainsaw Fraternity carried out the god's cruelty. There were no musicians, aether, or warmth in their world. They only had the bible and machinery, only had miracles made of machines and the cruel battlefield.

Now, the iron priest picked up the heavy 'shower.' The bone-white and blood-red shark on his mask grinned menacingly.

Philip gasped involuntarily.

The fog machine shook. Black oil was forced through, transforming into crushed oil fog. It poured out of the 'shower' with air pressure. It was nice and cool…not!

What came out was aggressive dragon breath! Blazing red fire swallowed the entire room instantly. Other than the warrior, everything else was bathed in the fire. It greedily burned at every molecule of air. The low air pressure fed the fire until it filled every corner.

There was no oxygen, no breathing, and no sound. In the heavy and muffled heat, only the 'shower' rumbled as it operated like demonic laughter.

Philip was buried within.

In a place without aether, killing a musician was as easy as killing a chicken. But unfortunately…Philip was not a chicken. Thirty years ago, he was youthful and strong. He was the Ministry of Information's executioner, a psychotic killer, a fervent believer, and the master swordsman of the Witch Hammer!

In the fire, under the burning red robe, a sword was unsheathed. The frail old man stepped forward. His chest puffed up and he roared like a crack of thunder. The flames shook.

A tragic beam of light shot from his wrist. It cut apart the fiery dragon breath, tearing through the mass of red. The bright sword whistled up and down; it was only a moment before it was held in the air. That moment, the blade was fleeting like a bubble. Cracks followed it.

A straight crack spread. It cut through a wrist, the shower, a chest, and the Chainsaw warrior's mask. Everything was cut in half! Then the hoisted sword beheaded the man.

The flames separated!

The redness was cut into two parts.

The Chainsaw warrior's looming figure split from the middle, iron crumbling, and flesh falling to two sides. It revealed the old priest bathing in fire behind him. His white hair was dyed red and his white eyes were filled with cold menace.

He leaned on his sword. His half-burnt body quivered, almost collapsing to the ground.

The next moment, the aether that had been chased away returned. It transformed into a halo that glowed upon him. He shed his decayed flesh and burnt marks, turning back into an old man with light in his hands.

Arrows whistled from the cabin across the hall like a thunderstorm. However, they froze in mid-air, locked by the light.

A somber prayer chant resounded through the entire ship. The burnt and dying priests on the ground began convulsing. Blood flowed in reverse and flesh regenerated under small noises until the body was complete again.

They screamed from the pain of rebirth and climbed up. Grandmaster Philip waved and the flames went still as if they were put into amber. The arrows shot backward, tearing through the layers of cabins, piercing the entire ship and creating a large, gaping hole.

However, there was nothing behind the broken cabins, other than the automatic crossbow car.

"Stay here," Philip ordered.

The ring of light expanded behind him. It turned slowly and countless voices began singing as if angels had arrived. With support from the symphony of predestination 'God's Punishment Incarnate,' he flew with his sword. He instantly flew out of the hole in the wall and hovered above the deck. His white pupils scanned the crowd but could not find the assassin.

He huffed. Spinning around, he looked into the deep sea. Blazing light shot from his eyes, illuminating the darkness as well as the quickly escaping figures dozens of meters below.

Grunting, he raised his sword and brought it down, hacking the sea surface. With a rumbling explosion, the ray of light was buried into the deep sea. It went up and down, slicing the figures. But even after a long while, there was no blood. The figures had disappeared like bubbles. Only a few dozen strange fish floated to the surface.

"What the h*ll?" Philip frowned. But then the abnormal fish suddenly swelled and exploded. Sickly green smoke spewed from the cracked fish. It swelled in the sea wind and shrouded toward Philip.

The old man huffed. The holy light rose like a wall. Outside of it, the green smoke sizzled and a few strands almost seeped in. It was a rare poison. A mere strand could decay the entire ship into a watery tomb but it could not pass through. However, there was a muffled snort.

Sticky blood flowed from Philip's nose, trickling down. He murmured, "Illusion? And poison…is it the Voodoo Crypt? Do you dare challenge the Ministry of Information?!"

When the poisonous fog covered everything, the assassin's illusion fulcrum had already been included. Instantaneously activated, it would drag the enemy into the illusion. If there was a slight mishap, the barrier would come undone and the enemy would die. However, the poison was also part of the illusion, raising the danger of the originally weak illusion.

The two complemented each other, changing the usual shortcoming of the School of Illusions, turning it into a terrifying attack. Only one group had this technique—the Voodoo Crypt!

"Huh, there's a grandmaster? The client gave some wrong information…" an annoyed voice said in the poisonous fog. "Threatening me with the Sacred City? Wow, I'm so scared. But you guys haven't come to the Northern Islands in all these years."

Philip's face darkened.

The Northern Islands and boundless ocean had always been bases for the School of Illusion. It was comparable to the 'Mirage School' of the desert. They had created the legends of the 'siren musicians' and the 'ship of the undead.'

These musicians who controlled reality and illusions ruled the seas. They controlled many smuggling and illegal trades and never stayed put. All of them were unclean and were responsible for many messes.

They were also informative and would disappear at the slightest hint of trouble. There was an adage among the sailors: every shell in the sea may contain a hiding Illusion musician. No one knew where they would hide.

Therefore, even though they knew that the target was from the Sacred City, some desperate musicians still wanted to take the risk and make some money.

After all, it was just to slow them down. The client had good credit as well. He paid the deposit quickly and never delayed the final payments. Only an idiot would pass up this job!

"I don't know why you angered him but he wants to mess with you guys so we can't do anything about it." The old man in the poisonous fog laughed. "So how about you guys stay here for five minutes and I'll let you go? You'll be unharmed and I can finish my job. How about it? I swear on the Originator I'm honest."

What he got in reply was the light of discipline!

-

"Colt…oh, Colt…"

In the messy ship, layers of solidified flames had transformed into a forest. They bloomed with such red flowers, beautiful yet tragic like fine pieces of art. But Colt, still unrecovered from his fear, heard a hoarse voice.

"My friend, where are you?" The raspy voice echoed among the broken flames, murmuring in his ear, "Can you come closer? It's so dark here. I can't see you…"

The two priests lifted their swords. Countless black shadows slowly emerged from the crystallized flames.

Cruelty flashed past Colt's eyes. He took out the 'anti-tune' and sliced through the air. The music theory on the blade instantly changed. Revelations music theory expanded, fusing into the chaotic theory. With this sword movement, the flames withered and shattered. All music theory connections broke apart. The black shadows screamed until they disappeared.

"Just a bunch of scams." Colt frowned and suddenly felt a wet hand on his shoulder. Someone had silently pressed up to him, laughing in his ears. "I'm right here. Can't you see?"

Colt spun around in shock. He saw the shattered body that had climbed up from the ground. It was only half of a body. It choked and cried. Raising its head, it revealed the cut up side. The flesh was a mess.

"Don't be scared," it murmured and giggled. "I'm just sending a message…" The cracked skull opened its mouth to murmur. Then it shattered, blood splattering. With a muffled thud, the remaining body was nailed into the wall by a sword. It vibrated and shook like an endless sharp laughter.

There was a scream. A vague figure wrapped in green poison disappeared in the distance.

Philip, burning with phantom fire, returned to the cabin. The other priests helped him shave off the burning flesh. He quickly recovered, becoming old but complete again.

This fast recovery seemed like exceptional healing but it actually consumed a man's vitality and potential. Even a grandmaster of the School of Choir was unable to save the lifespan Philip had used up. He was only sixty years old but already looked ancient.

"Let's get off at the next port." Philip's expression was dark. "It seems like we've already been tracked. Those lunatics dare to attack the Sacred City!"

Colt remained silent. He gaped at the body on the wall, shell-shocked. He could still hear the corpse murmuring in his ear as if the dead had truly come back for a greeting.

"I came back from hell," he said. "I'm still alive."

Five days later, the rail carriage parked at a station in southern Asgard. Afew minutes later, a light carriage departed from the station, bypassing the peripheral of the city and finally entering the manor along the mountain path.

The door opened and soon closed in the night.

Lola pushed open the door and heard the tide.

People in the big manor were hurrying to and fro. Everything was illuminated. Someone hurried down stairs of the doorway. He reached out to help Lola get off the car like a thoughtful and gentlemanly housekeeper.

"Professor Lola, it must have been a tiring journey!"

"Richard, did you ever smile so warmly when you were in college?" Lola said gently. "Alas, your smile is too fake and disgusting like your boss."

Richard's face twitched. He looked away. "I am just a temporary public employee. I haven't even signed any agreements. Please don't embarrass me."

"Really? Then shall I go to the Fifth Department to talk to your boss?" Lola asked in return.

Richard did not dare to respond but just walked a half step ahead to show her the way. He looked carefully and cautiously as if the person beside him was not a noble maiden but a cannibal or an aether bomb that would explode at any time.

Recently, many people had been suffering because of this event. He would absolutely not want to become one of them. Even Maxwell had to control his temper, let alone a small employee like Richard.

As early as the day after Ye Qingxuan's event happened, the principal found that when his personal barber was about to shave for him, the shaving cream in the box was replaced by green drugs of the most poisonous kind… The threat was quite palpable.

No one knew how many hints this woman would plant for self-destruction. If she went crazy, half the Anglo would have to jump into the pits of hell with her. Fortunately, Ye Qingxuan did not die, so she had no chance to go mad.

All the way, Richard's whole body was chilled by that cold sight from behind. He had to speed up, walking forward along the manor's road and corridor. The sounds of the tidal waves approached with the cold winter wind. The green plants on both sides of the road were covered with a layer of white frost, gradually withering.

"He's waiting for you inside." Richard opened the door for her, took a few steps back, and left quietly.

The light behind the door fell on Lola's face. The gloominess and madness in her eyes disappeared. Her look changed, hesitating like a timid little girl.

"Lola?" a slightly hoarse voice sounded from behind the door. "Don't stand at the door. Come in." The room behind the door was empty. The heavy scent of disinfectants still lingered. The crash of waves came from the window. Lola walked in and realized that someone did live here.

Finally, she looked at the terrace. There, a thin figure was sitting on the chair, silently watching the tide outside the terrace. His white hair that reflected the moonlight had become so long without her realizing. They had been apart for just half a month but it felt like much longer. Lola could still faintly distinguish his appearance but he had changed a lot.

Sighing softly, she took a thick blanket from the chair and covered him. Ye Qingxuan's wrists looked skinny and pale. There were still traces of pinholes there. Perceiving Lola's sight, he hid his wrist under the blanket.

"Sorry, I was supposed to be better today, but the doctor was not willing to give some effective medicine. I can only recover slowly like this."

Lola did not speak. Of course she knew what kind of medicine Ye Qingxuan wanted. Those drugs that seemed to be surprisingly effective were always at the expense of body and life. If it were for other times, she could understand. But now, with his condition, Ye Qingxuan would die if he took any of those drugs.

Not receiving a response, Ye Qingxuan smiled and changed the topic. He reached out to the railing. In the distant sea, the surging tides made faraway and quiet sounds when collided with each other. The lights of the seaside city in the distance were like stars. When the lights reflected in the sea, it was as if the stars had fallen into the sea, majestic and serenely beautiful.

"This is Maxwell's private property. Cool, right? I didn't expect that he could enjoy life in this way until now." He sighed. "No wonder he always says how poor he is. If I were him, I would definitely embezzle school's funds to buy such a good manor too. If we need money, we can write a report to the royal family. We can get a bonus too."

Lola pursed her lips but didn't speak. She looked down at Ye Qingxuan and reached out to touch his white hair. Ye Qingxuan look back at her with silent eyes. He did not look like the young boy she had first met anymore. Now, he was like a stone statue with chiseled features, silent and quiet. He was neither naïve nor weak anymore. Somehow, facing that pair of eyes, Lola couldn't help but feel sad.

"As long as you're alive." She reached out to stroke his hair and hugged his shoulder from behind. "I wanted to hit you before I came. If you listen, I won't hit you anymore."

"I know." Ye Qingxuan nodded. He reached up and patted the back of her hand. He just let her hold himself, silently gazing at that broken moonlight in the sea. After a long while, he hesitated but asked softly, "Lola, Can people live without a heart?"

Lola froze and looked up at him. After the sub-originator was broken, Ye Qingxuan lost his heart. It would be very difficult for him to live, let alone be a musician.

The Knights Templar rescued him in all force. They had spent a lot of precious materials to save him from a dying state. The doctor told her that it was a miracle that he could survive. But no one knew how long this fragile balance could last.

Everyone was waiting but how long could Ye Qingxuan wait?

Ye Qingxuan looked at Lola with pleading eyes, waiting for her response as if he was waiting for the final trial.

"Yes." She gazed at Ye Qingxuan and whispered, "You just have no heart. Believe me, Yezi, you can live."

"Really? That's good." Somehow, Ye Qingxuan smiled and looked comforted. "That would be great. I was worried about being treated like a freak." He stretched out his hand to lift the thick blanket. Untying the coat, he revealed his chest. Dense stitches remained where the heart once was. Underneath the sutures, a faint red glow burned silently. It replaced the heart in his chest, sustaining his life and breathes, helping him escape from death and hell.

"What is this?" Lola looked at his chest blankly. Her sight penetrated the flesh and fell on it. She saw the scarlet crystal that was embedded in his body. It was a substance condensed from myriad complex music theories. It was the organ that had replaced the organ. She could not believe it and almost stopped breathing.

"That's probably what's keeping me alive," Ye Qingxuan pressed his chest, whispering softly.

It was the crystallization of miracles, the legendary creation, and the power that all alchemists had dreamed of for so long. It could transform metal into gold and give life to dead things…The Philosopher's Stone!

Ye Qingxuan closed his eyes and once again recalled that young face, that girl who had woken from the dream and looked at him with smiling face. She had reached out, wanting to touch his face.

"I recognize you."

She had recognized him, so she put the Philosopher's Stone in his arms.

"Don't die. Ye Qingxuan." Those were the last words that she had whispered in his ear.

So Ye Qingxuan survived even without heart, even with a broken sub-originator, because Elsa gave him a new life.

"Help me up, Lola." Ye Qingxuan buttoned up again and raised his hands. "The time for rest is over."

Lola pursed her lips. She reached out and pulled him from the couch but she felt little weight. His body was as light as withered wood.

Ye Qingxuan put on his coat and held the wall slowly to lead the way. Finally, he pushed open the downstairs door.

In the spacious hall, everyone was bustling around quietly. A dozen hurried recorders leaned over the corner table to record, looking up the files that brought from the archives by carts. They left manuscripts all over on the floor and labeled on a huge map on the wall.

On the other side of the hall, half of the wall had been forcibly dismantled. The original unified style of exquisite decoration was destroyed. A giant tuning instrument that had just been delivered took up the space.

The tuner wedged into the ground like a monument. Its metal wires attached to the outside of the manor wall and extended to the sky, catching the complex signals from the aether sea and delivering the messages. Several discipline musicians were debugging it to make sure it works.

Richard came forward and gave him a letter he had just received. The letter was sealed with black wax. Ye Qingxuan frowned.

"The Whale Hunters failed. They couldn't keep him."

Ye Qingxuan nodded. "After all, they are the maritime smuggling regiment. We can't have too much expectation when they disembark. What did they say?"

"They would have wanted the remaining half of the money." Richard shrugged. "But after your deputy, Mr. Watson, cut off their leader's nose, they returned the advance payment."

Ye Qingxuan took a knife to open the letter. After reading it, he understood the situation. "They want to make money but don't want to get into trouble, so they decide to deal with the easiest side… Richard, we gave the money so readily that they thought we were weak. I'm afraid it's not enough to just cut a nose."

Richard seemed to know a lot about the 'ex-medic.' He smiled wryly. "Since you said so, I'm afraid that other parts of that guy, like his nose, that can't be left behind."

"We all know that this is a work to trade lives with money. If the money is earned, then what's the point of keeping the life?" Ye Qingxuan lowered his head. He tore the letter into pieces and threw it into the trash. "Where are our guests now?"

He looked up at the huge map before him. On the map were many red dots as if someone used blood to mark out a tortuous road. From south to north, the road twisted and turned toward the center of the world—the Sacred City.

So close…

"You're almost there, Colt. You must hold on."

Ye Qingxuan smiled and leaned on the chair. Closing his eyes, he put himself into the huge map. He reached out to move the chess pieces, full of anticipation.

He whispered softly, "You must…hold on a little longer…"

In the darkness, Philip dreamed of a butterfly. Fluorescent light sprinkled down as it flew in the red sky. He slowly opened his eyes. His sword hilt was warm from his body heat as he gripped it tightly. Heavy curtains covered the window, blocking the hot light. In the dimness, he saw Colt's eyes. They were bloodshot as if he had not slept in a long while. His hair was messy as well and he looked like a beggar.

"What time is it?" Philip asked.

"One in the afternoon."

"Oh, I slept for so long," Philip murmured. He reached out and opened the curtains a crack. Sunlight fell on his old face, illuminating some fatigue and weakness. The veins under the skin were dark green. It was the toxic poison that had seeped into his body and lay on his bones like maggots.

Assassins had not stopped since their attack on the ship five days ago. Each attempt was crazier than the last. Fortunately, they had decided without hesitation to go by road rather than sea. No one knew how many traps could be hidden in the sea. But unfortunately, going by land was difficult as well. The killer seemed to have smelled their blood and tracked them. There were so many tricks, from attack to poison to secret attacks. Once, he even received help from a caravan smuggling illegal weapons and met them face on…

There were many undignified musicians. They had to fight off strange tricks of every school. The two red-robed priests had already died. Philip did not even know how one of them died.

When he discovered something was wrong, the assassin disguised as the priest had already stabbed his back with a poisoned dagger. Gravely wounded, Philip had fought out of the besiege with Colt. Using the night and noise as cover, they had gone underground and finally found a safe spot along the river.

They finally had a chance to breathe.

Footsteps approached and the door was cracked open. Someone timidly walked over, metal clanging crisply.

Colt raised his bloodshot eyes. Holding his short sword, he pounced on the shadow, putting him in a chokehold. "Who is it?!"

With a clang, the copper plate fell onto the ground. A few pieces of bread fell into the dust. The young man collapsed. Looking at Colt's fierce expression, he paled. "The F-father told me to bring some food. I'm s-sorry, I didn't mean to…He said you're sleeping so I didn't want to disturb you…"

"Sorry, child, for scaring you." Philip helped the young man up and helped him get rid of the dust on the robe. Finally, he picked up the bread, prayed quietly, and began eating earnestly without caring for the dust.

Colt watched the young man run away. He held the bread but did not eat. "Can we trust the people here?" Over these past few days, he had witnessed too many betrayals. Even an observant Revelations musician could not pinpoint where the truly fatal poison was.

"Don't worry," Grandmaster Philip said. "The priest here graduated from the Sacred City's Trinity College and is a fervent believer. He was originally an ascetic monk but voluntarily came to this faraway town four years ago to do missionary work. His loyalty to the Church is definite. He and his student are the only ones in this church. No one will know we are here."

Colt did not reply. Still suspicious, he carefully lifted a corner of the curtain, looking at the poor church outside. It had not been maintained in many years.

At the church entrance, the ragged priest quietly encouraged the sad-looking student. Then he picked up a bible and left quickly.

Colt narrowed his eyes.

"He is going to teach the local children for donations to repair the church." Philip seemed to know what Colt was thinking. He said calmly, "I told him to do everything as before. Other than giving us water and food, just pretend we are not here."

"This church is too poor."

"This land is directly administered by the Church. It is protected by the Clock Tower and no one would be able to see inside. Rest up, Colt. We are setting off tomorrow."

Colt dropped the curtain. He lay in the corner behind the door, gripping the blankets, but he could not sleep. His eyes were testy. "Is there still no reply from the Ministry of Information?"

In recent days, all their messages to the Sacred City had no replies. It seemed that all messages were locked as if an invisible hand snuffed all of their pleas for help, isolating them. Later, they would gradually be held in the palm of the assassin and suffocated slowly. Colt knew who could do all this. That was why he was panicking and…full of hatred.

His teacher…

His nails dug into his palm, his eyes filled with resentment. It must be you, Heisenberg, Colt thought angrily. Other than the School of Secret Keepers, who can do things to this extent? You truly just want me to die!

There was the sound of teeth cracking.

"Reinforcement will be here soon." Philip chewed the dry bread calmly. The raspy voice had awakened him. "Even if they seal the aether sea, there are other ways to send messages. Don't worry, Colt. This will be my last time comforting you. The Ministry of Information is not like before but should not be overlooked." Before he finished, there was a knock on the door.

Colt tensed like a frightened bird. Philip rose. He opened the door. Outside, a priest clad in red had arrived silently. The middle-aged priest had two long swords and light armor under his robe. The Discipline Hammer was carved into his arm plate. His features were average but lightning seemed to brew in his narrow eyes.

"Teacher, I received your letter and hurried over," he reported, kneeling on one knee. "I brought over the other members fulfilling missions nearby. There are five Purgatory musicians and sixteen members of the Witch Hammer. We await your commands."

In the courtyard, armed priests stood silently like statues. Many musicians were hidden within them. They were quiet but music theory as cruel as purgatory brewed within them. They were the hidden stars of the Ministry of Information. They were the cream of the crop. Even a century ago, a team like this could completely wipe out a satanic sect, raise columns of stakes, and burn the sky red.

"Colt, do you see? Do not feel regret. You made the right choice." Philip patted his shoulder. "God's power cannot be humiliated. Sinners will always pay for their actions. From today, they will be your followers and protect you with their lives. The Ministry will give you much more than the Secret Keepers. From today, you have the status of a saint!"

Soundlessly, the Purgatory and Witch Hammer members half-knelt on the ground and gave Colt their respect.

Colt gaped at the priests and musicians before him. After a long while, a smile appeared on his blank face. He laughed. Lowering his head, he kissed the holy emblem on Philip's ring.

"Everything for God!"

His lowered eyes were blank but seemed like a furnace. There, resentment, hatred, and anger acted as firewood; something terrifying was burning.

-

In the courtyard of a woodworker's home, the recitations came to an end.

"Children, the class will end now." Father Lucca closed his bible. "After going home, please read the section taught today again and copy it. If you have anything you do not understand, ask me next time."

The two-hour reading and writing class was finally over. The playful children cheered and scattered. Looking at the mess, the priest sighed. He bent over, picked up the broom in the corner, and started sweeping.

Perhaps he did not have a talent for preaching. After being here for a few years, there were not many new believers and he definitely did not have enough donations to repair the church. The students were mostly children of poor artisans and farmers. He even relied on the woodworker for the classroom. There was no hope for repairing the church. He sighed but felt someone tug on his robe.

"Father," a young voice said.

He turned around to see a boy hug the heavy bible with pure and curious eyes. He smiled involuntarily. "Little Mueller, you didn't go yet? Did you not understand today's class?"

The boy scratched his head in embarrassment.

Father Lucca chuckled. He pulled a stool over and said gently, "Today's lesson truly is a bit complicated for children. It's normal that you don't understand."

The teaching material all came from the bible. In order to keep the children from feeling bored, he would choose the more interesting stories. Today's lesson was about sinner Lazarus who was brought back to life by God. This was hard to comprehend for adults, let alone children.

Mueller was Lucca's favorite of the students. He did not mess around and studied carefully and seriously. Lucca planned on training him as an apprentice in a few years. With a new apprentice, he could relax a little more. Thus, he taught Mueller without holding anything back.

"Father, Father, why was Lazarus brought back?" Mueller asked curiously. "He sinned so much."

"Because of God's mercy, child." Lucca bent over to pat the child's head. He said kindly, "God loves the people. Even sinners can live. Lazarus had seen Hell; therefore he knew the value of life and the beauty of justice. As long as he lives, he will atone for his sins."

"Then what about kind people?" Mueller asked with a cocked head. "Kind people can't be reborn?"

After a pause, the priest managed a smile. "After death, kind people go to heaven."

"Heaven?" Mueller repeated in confusion.

"Yes, heaven," the priest answered. "Heaven is a place without evil."

Mueller nodded, seeming to understand but not really. After asking a few more questions, he left.

Seeing him off, Lucca sat on the bench and began praying with his eyes closed. Frantic footsteps sounded in the distance.

"Father! Father!" His apprentice from the church ran in. He was out of breath and drenched in sweat as if he was chased by a pack of wolves. Leaning against the door, he panted and could barely speak. "Donation—our donation…"

"What happened?" Father Lucca sighed and said gently, "Everyone has hard lives. It's normal that no one is donating. At these times, we must help each other and—"

"No, no!" The boy interrupted him and stuffed a crumpled piece of paper into his hands. "A kind soul gave this to us… He didn't even leave a name behind!"

It was a check.

Father Lucca took a glance and was shocked by the long number. It came from the 'Central Bank of Asgard,' the national Asgardian treasury. There was no name on the check. This meant that anyone could withdraw such a large sum whenever and wherever.

Confirming that he was not dreaming, Lucca fell into ecstasy. He was as happy as a child. He hugged his apprentice and jumped, laughed, and prayed excitedly.

"Thank you, Lord! Thank you, kind soul! Our church can finally be repaired!"

The apprentice could not help but shake his head. "Father, with that money, it's more than enough to build a new one—"

Boom! He was cut off by an explosion.

The ground shook and cracks snaked through walls. Swept by the furious wind, a black cloud rose up slowly like a mushroom. Under it, red flames shot up, adorning the scene of destruction. But sadly, no one was enjoying it.

-

"What a pity. The entire church was flattened by an underground explosion. Thankfully the priest and apprentice were not there so there weren't any deaths."

A young man in a wheelchair on a hill outside of the town put down his binoculars and tsked. Behind him, his follower gave the other check to the man beside him.

"There will be a ship waiting for you all at the nearest port. Hurry and leave." The man on the wheelchair waved. "Go to the East, the Southern islands, India, wherever. Just don't come back within ten years."

"This…" The frail old man looked at the check and his eyes twitched. It was three times more than what they had agreed on! He carefully put the check away and finally smiled in farewell. "Thank you for your kindness, Mr. Watson! Thank you, powerful 'Saint' Holmes!" After spouting praises, he finally left.

"'Saint' Holmes? You can become a saint by giving money?" Watson held his chin and muttered, "He'll probably like this new nickname."