Silent Crown

Chapter 565: ReturnTranslator: Nyoi-Bo Studio Editor: Nyoi-Bo Studio

When the black warship docked, the entire port fell silent. Everyone gazed quietly at the sharp silhouette that it cast in the dim light. A strong wind with a strong stinking smell blew from afar.

Lancelot covered his mouth and coughed restrainedly. After a good while, he wiped off the blood between his fingers with a handkerchief.

A low sigh came from beside him. Mephistopheles reached out and handed him a small yet exquisite hand warmer. Lancelot did not refuse. As he held the hand warmer, his face turned slightly more rosy.

"How much longer can you stay outdoors?" Mephistopheles' blind eyes seemed to fall on his chest and look past his clothes at the lungs plagued by an old illness. "I believe that the doctor has told you not to come out."

"There are always exceptions to everything." Lancelot shook his head and stared at the silent dark shadow, murmuring softly, "I really really want to see him."

"Lancelot, so does everyone else who is here." The murky pupils of Mephistopheles which had no light in them looked forward, but it seemed as if everything was within his observation.

The pair of blind eyes overlooked the crowd, looking at the civilians, nobles, businessmen, and soldiers, distinguishing their faces one by one as if he could see their thoughts. He slowly spoke:

"Some come here out of respect.

"Some come here to display their stance.

"Some come here to put on a show…"

He paused, his blind eyes fixed on the outermost of the port, the surging crowd stretching all the way to the end of the road, and a shimmer of awe and respect appeared in his murky pupils.

"And some come here to honor the legend."

At that moment, a deep, low sound rang out. At first, it was the deep reverberation of the creaks from the hinges of steel armor, followed by the sonorous echoes of iron boots stepping on the deck. Hundreds of people gathered into a regiment and assembled into arrays. As they moved forward, the sounds evolved into magnificent roars.

The dead silent seawater was stirred by the sounds, forming waves. The cold sea breeze swept past, blowing at those who were trying hard to put on a smile until their faces turned pale.

The people who made their way to the front, wanting to make a good impression and display goodwill at the earliest time possible, were stunned. They paused where they were in the sound, and could not help but want to back away. Because in the glow of the lanterns, the bright red banners were raised once again. The holy emblem fluttered in the wind and advanced. Two rows of armored knights, who were stained black by the blood of the demons, walked out of the slowly opening door. Under the illumination of the light, a cold glint reflected off the steel helmets in a grotesque fashion.

The clergymen, who were had such burly builds that they looked inhuman, held the bright red banners high and lead the way. They wore chain hoods, and their robes were covered in heavy iron armor. As they marched forward slowly, the armor clanked, creating sonorous echoes.

The clergymen leading the way marched forward in a straight line. As if they did not see the people welcoming them approaching, their speed did not slow down, causing the enthusiastic smiles on the faces around them to become stiff and unsustainable.

The people who had approached backed away clumsily, turning the warm, welcoming atmosphere into a silent and awkward one.

"What is going on?" Several representatives of aristocrats wiped cold sweat from their brows and exchanged glances. Someone was chosen and reluctantly gathered up enough courage approach the clergyman leading the way. But the advancing procession showed no signs of stopping, continuing forward slowly. The representative standing in their way was stunned, his face becoming whiter and whiter. Finally, the footsteps stopped in front of him.

The clergyman holding the banner high lowered his eyes and seemed to be sizing him up. Under the illumination of the dim light, the burly clergyman cast a thick, dark shadow, covering the pale face of the representative, who couldn't help but swallow hard and forced out a smile.

The representative said, "I am the concertmaster of Avalon…"

"Thou shalt bow," a hoarse voice said, interrupting him.

In the clergyman's blurred outline, against the light, it seemed that a cold and indifferent gaze was cast downwards, with an iron-like majesticness. Under the gaze, he could hardly maintain the smile on his face, and cold sweat seeped from his forehead. He averted his gaze, not daring to look at the pair of eyes anymore.

The clergyman withdrew his gaze and declared it coldly, "Fear God."

In the dead silence of the cold wind, only the banner with the holy emblem on it was making a fluttering sound.

Faint footsteps sounded from a distance. Gazed upon by everyone, the thin figure walked out of the darkness, stepped on the road paved by the purifiers and entered the area illuminated by dim light.

In the dead silence, even the sounds of breathing had disappeared. Only faint footsteps echoed.

In the clanking of steel, the armored knights went down on one knee and lowered their heads as a sign of respect to the rulers. Surrounded by the clergymen, the thin young man stepped off the warship and set foot on the port. In the cold wind, he breathed into his palms and rubbed his hands, seemingly not used to the cold of winter.

A stole embroidered with black gold was draped over his shoulders and covered part of the vestment he was wearing. It was not of a crimson red color favored by Archbishops but of a deep purple.

Under the illumination of glow coming from the swaying lantern, his silver hair, blown by the wind, resembled burning mercury. In the silence, he stood on the shore and gazed at the city that he hadn't returned to for quite some time. He had only bid it farewell for the short span of four months, yet everything had become completely different.

A lot of things had changed.

Everything of the past had disappeared.

But its essence still remained the same.

Avalon…

"I'm finally back," Ye Qingxuan murmured softly. Under the fluttering, bright red holy emblem, he overlooked the crowd and raised his hand, like the emperor who arrived here back then, proclaiming the truth to mortals.

He declared, "God bless Anglo."

Tsunami-like cheers sounded. The crowd surged like boiling water. Even the earth trembled from being stepped on chaotically by countless people. Dust flew up, whirling in the air, and tremored in their shouts.

The fanatical crowd stared at the emblem and the young man's figure. Waving their arms, they swarmed forward, trying, again and again, to enter the cordoned area regardless of the attempts by the guards outside to block them. Countless people held the lanterns in their hands up, waving their arms, and shouted at Ye Qingxuan, praising him with all the words they know.

As Ye Qingxuan advanced, the banner with the sacred emblem on it was held high in the gale, and the believers became more and more fanatical, throwing themselves to the ground at the savior in front of them. The disorganized shouts gradually overlapped and merged into one, saying the same words with the same voice.

"Hand of God!" The crowd looked up at the figure of Ye Qingxuan and praised him fanatically, "Hand of God!"

"Hand of God!!!" As the shouts of countless people gathered to a roar, it shook the world.

It was like the quiet city was humming in a low tone. As if its true master had finally arrived, it respectfully presented everything in its possession, humbly imploring the arriver to bestow salvation upon it.

In the deafening shouts, the people standing in front gazed at each other embarrassedly, their expressions change slightly. Despite obviously trying to remain calm, they could not hide the shock and fear emerging from the bottom of their eyes.

It wasn't that they were unclear about Ye Qingxuan's identity and his past. At the moment of Ye Qingxuan's return, the information of his past was presented to countless people.

In the beginning, they thought of uniting to control such a powerful force. After that, when they saw how powerful he was, they eagerly wanted to establish good connections with the distinguished young man that had returned. But now, they didn't even have the courage to stay here and introduce themselves.

At that moment, they finally understood that the newcomers were not loyal soldiers, nor naive heroes, nor impressionable politicians who could be persuaded with benefits and compromises.

The clergyman told them, "Thou shalt bow and fear God."

Under the deep purple vestment and the stole symbolizing justice, he was not the young man they had expected, but the archbishop sanctioned by the Sacred City, the Grand Inquisitor who had re-established the Religious Court of Inquiry, the Hand of God who had brought iron and fire with him!

All mortals intoxicated with power and desire were like dust in his eyes.

"Another a madman," someone whispered.

…

"Lancelot, haven't you understood?" Mephistopheles turned back and looked at the dismayed Lancelot. He said, "Avalon has changed, old friend, and so has the world. He is no longer the child you could protect. I know what you're thinking, but you can't change him. "

Lancelot lowered his eyes and said nothing.

In the cheers of the crowd, Ye Qingxuan walked forward and smiled as he looked at the old archbishop in front of him. "Archbishop Mephistopheles, it's good to see you so well." Out of habit, he wanted to put his hand over his heart and bow, but just as he lifted his hand, he was stopped by Mephistopheles.

The murky blind eyes rose as if the archbishop was looking at a young man in front of him. After a good while, he smiled with a tinge of emotion.

"You are already the Hand of Gods, Archbishop, there's no need to bow to me." As he spoke, Mephistopheles removed the signet ring, which was a token of power, from his index finger, and carefully put the ring on Ye Qingxuan's right hand. Finally, he bent down and drew the young man's right hand to his forehead, which touched the signet ring gently.

"I'm already old." He smiled as if he had unloaded a burden. "From now on, all matters in the Archdiocese of Anglo will be completely under your jurisdiction."

Ye Qingxuan had never expected that Archbishop Mephistopheles would hand over the Westminster Abbey, which he had been guarding for decades, and the entire enchantment of Avalon to him immediately upon his return.

Although he held the concurrent post of Grand Inquisitor, in the hierarchy of the Church, he was still of the same rank as Mephistopheles. In fact, as a diocesan bishop, Mephistopheles could totally ignore Ye Qingxuan's opinions regarding the matters in the archdiocese.

It was a right granted to Mephistopheles by the Church. But at the moment, he handed all of it over to Ye Qingxuan.

"You probably still have many more things to deal with, I will not disturb you any further." Mephistopheles did not give him time to refuse, but simply nodded and bade him farewell, "I have prepared the encampment for your subordinates at the Westminster Abbey. I'll be waiting for your arrival there." Having finished his words, he stepped back with the aid of his retinue and left.

But when he walked past Shi Dong, he paused for a moment and seemed to nod in reverence, but it was so subtle that it could hardly be perceived.

In the end, Ye Qingxuan sighed and looked in front. He looked at Lancelot, who had been waiting for a long time, and opened his mouth to say something, but didn't know what to say. However, Lancelot clutched his cane and walked towards Ye Qingxuan, brushing aside attempts from others to support him.

He came closer and observed the young man's face like he was trying to identify the contours from the past. As if he was looking at a family member who had finally returned after a long time, his gaze became complicated and gratified.

"You're back?" he asked softly.

"Yep." Ye Qingxuan nodded and got a shock.

It was because Lancelot raised his arms strenuously and hugged him. For the first time in many years, Lancelot hugged him, but he had become weak and lacked strength.

"That's great." He said, "It's good to see you back."

Ye Qingxuan was silent for a long time. He wanted to break away, but hesitated, and did not refuse in the end.

Soon, Lancelot realized his faux pas. He let go and rubbed his eyes awkwardly. "Sorry, I was caught up in the moment. All these years, I have been hoping that you would return, It's really great that you came back."

As he spoke, he supported himself with the cane and dragged Ye Qingxuan forward with staggering footsteps. "Let's go, I will bring you back home. I have a lot to say to you, Little Yezi, a lot."

But Ye Qingxuan stood where he was, and as he looked around, the look in his eyes became one of confusion. "Why are you guys the only ones here? Where's Maxwell? The old b*stard, surely he isn't trying to put on airs, not even bothering to welcome me back?"

Lancelot was silent for a moment, put on a forced smile. "Certain things beyond everyone's expectations happened. He couldn't make his way here for now." He continued, "Let me bring you home to get some rest first."

Lancelot averted his gaze and refused to look at Ye Qingxuan's eyes anymore. "A lot has happened while you were gone. You have enough time to make sense of it slowly."

Ye Qingxuan looked at him and remained quiet for a long time. Finally, he slowly nodded. "Alright."