Silent Crown

Translator: Nyoi-Bo Studio Editor: Nyoi-Bo Studio

In front of Ye Qingxuan, Lancelot's armor had already been burned red. It exuded a furnace-like heat, and was as grotesque as a demon. But the demon was bound in the huge net.

Innumerable dim and slender perception threads were wrapped around him. Like spider silk, they entwined and shrouded him. Every perception thread was so fragile that it would disintegrate at the slightest touch, but at the moment, thousands of perception threads of moonlight extended from all directions, and wrapped themselves around Lancelot's armor.

Every joint, every inch of armor, everywhere…

Even though the Lance of the Dragon Slayer could cut through music theory, but when faced with such a large number, it was still extremely difficult for the lance to break free in a short span of time.

Before he realized, Lancelot had been deeply trapped.

The perception threads that were so slender and dim that they were almost non-existent extended from every corner of the battlefield. They originated from none other than the swords of moonlight that had been smashed up by the Lance of the Dragon Slayer.

The fragments that had been smashed up by the Lance of the Dragon Slayer did not dissipate, and they remained connected to each other. As Ye Qingxuan overloaded his attack, Lancelot was already entangled in them.

The perception threads that had evolved from Bolero possessed excellent extensibility. When stretched to the limit, their thickness would be even lesser than one percent of that of spider silk.

Their excessive slenderness also led to excessive fragility, and they could be cut with the slightest movement without even using any strength.

Even if millions of perception threads were gathered together at the same time, it would merely be a bundle thinner than a little finger, and its tensile strength would by no means be comparable to that of ropes.

But at the moment, it was such perception threads that were so weak that they weren't even worth mentioning at all that bound Lancelot to the net.

When Ye Qingxuan awakened the nature interference applied to them, their own adhesiveness and tensile strength would skyrocket. However, such properties were still not worth mentioning as compared to Lancelot's power, and it would only take him a moment to break free.

But when used against an armor that had been accelerated to a speed that was ten thousand times faster, the perception threads would produce a horrifying effect.

Under relative speed, even air friction would produce a high temperature like that of a furnace.

Even colliding with pieces of gravel would bring an impact no lesser than the hit of an iron hammer.

Lancelot's own speed was too terrifying, so terrifying that before it had time to pull the threads apart, in the short instant before they break, the terrifying speed of the armor would have been completely exhausted by the tugging force from the perception threads themselves.

In the end, the terrifying speed that was fast enough to chase after light stopped abruptly.

The horrific consequences of the two-stage acceleration erupted from the armor.

In the purgatory-like heat, the intense pain of internal organs shattering came. Two consecutive times of extreme accelerations had almost caused his body to disintegrate.

If not for the protection of the Firebird, at the moment, Lancelot would have been burned to ashes.

Then, Lancelot heard Ye Qingxuan's hoarse voice. "Now, it's my turn…"

Under the moonlight, the silver-haired young man continuously weaved a large number of perception threads with one hand, and his other hand slowly lifted.

The pure white moon rose from behind him. As the moon rotated, a sharp sound of steel scraping against each other burst forth from it. It was the technique of sword-throwing that had been superimposed for dozens of times in a flash!

Innumerable swords that had been bestowed with a metallic nature produced moonlight arcs of trajectories, whistling as they struck towards Lancelot.

Not having time to pant, Lancelot lifted the Lance of the Dragon Slayer once more.

After his terrifying speed was stopped by the perception threads, in such a horrifying heat, Lancelot surprisingly still had enough energy remaining to fight back. All his blocks and parries were perfect, without any trace of slowing down or distortion due to physical exhaustion.

Even though the armor no longer brought him any assistance at the moment and was a scorching cage that imprisoned him.

Such terrifying willpower surpassing steel in strength was unprecedented… It was as if he must defeat the enemy completely even if he could only lift one finger.

However, this time, under the constant charging of the swords of nature interference, his movements were also becoming slower and slower.

He grew exhausted, struggling to keep up his line of defense, and could hardly counterattack. It wasn't even necessary for Ye Qingxuan to turn the blades into light, as the ones of metal nature were already enough to make Lancelot's efforts to parry more and more strenuous.

Bang!

A heavy hammer smashed the defense of the Lance of the Dragon Slayer open and landed on Lancelot's shoulder, causing the melting pauldron to cave in. Then, another long sword struck, cutting a formidable gap open on the breastplate.

The crack intersected with his old wounds, almost cutting his chest open.

Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!

Low sounds rang out one after another.

It was the sound of a body being torn apart.

Blades clanged as lances, axes, and swords pierced through his limbs and chest, nailing him to the ground.

The victor had been determined.

The scorching helmet drooped slowly.

In the silence, the roars of beasts rang out.

The shrill noise reverberated through the battlefield.

The pitch black Firebird spurted out of the broken body.

In the immense pain, he broke free from the underworld close at hand, and returned to the battlefield that belonged to him.

The loud noise of steel scraping against each other burst forth.

Clenching the weapon in his hand, Lancelot stepped forward, letting countless swords and knives strike his body, until the armor was damaged beyond recognition.

All the while, the pair of indifferent eyes looked straight at Ye Qingxuan.

He was still alive.

It seemed as if he experienced no pain and was still as complete as ever.

Even though he had been ignited…

The armor whined forlornly, falling apart.

A burning Lancelot walked out of it, as if the ashes that remained after the fire had burnt out were pieced together with iron. His past looks still vaguely remained on his face, but it had been replaced by something more grotesque.

At the moment, he no longer looked like a knight, but some kind of enraged demon, waving the Lance of the Dragon Slayer and tearing all the swords of nature interference apart.

"Terrifying indeed, Lancelot." Ye Qingxuan lowered his eyes and sighed regretfully.

Boom!

In the moonlight, a heavy spear emerged suddenly. The iron gleamed and struck at Lancelot.

Bang!

The spear hit the Lance of the Dragon Slayer, producing a loud bang. Lancelot paused, and the spear shattered. He stepped forward once more, but heard the clatter of countless swords, as they whistled in a low voice while striking towards him from all directions.

Ye Qingxuan waved, and 16 lances and epees emerged from the moon. He did not once hesitate because of their relationship, nor did he show any mercy because of the other party's injuries.

Aiming towards vital parts all over the body, the 16 swords of nature interference struck mightily!

The sound of steel shattering rang out continuously.

The burning knight was advancing, the Lance of the Dragon Slayer roared, shattering the attacking weapons, or letting them pierce into the burning body. The wounds were torn, but they could not delay his footsteps.

The terrifying tenacity that was almost non-human had surpassed the pain and suffering. Even though Lancelot was so severely wounded, as long as he still had an inch of iron in his hand, others would shudder in fear at the sight of him.

It was as if nothing in the world could kill him. And as long as he was not dead, he would advance to gain victory.

The mere sight of his grotesque posture was enough to prompt one to flee.

Ye Qingxuan lifted his hand again. The sound of steel scraping each other burst forth from the moon, and a cold murderous intent targeted Lancelot.

This time, it would completely chop him up into pieces!

"Don't even think about it!" In the distance, besieged by the Witch Hammer, the principal conductor of the Royal Musician Division suddenly lifted a hand. In the cold, forbidding melody, music theory was woven, opening a crack leading to the realm of aether. Huge shadows swept through, crushing the armored knight blocking the way into pieces, and charged towards where Ye Qingxuan was.

The countless changing shadows were like quagmires. They opened their big, stinking mouths and swallowed towards Ye Qingxuan.

"Get lost!" Ye Qingxuan waved impatiently.

At the moment, the moon rose again.

It hung high.

The Symphony of Predestination operated at full might, and the solemn melody reverberated between the heavens and the earth.

The sound of horns that announcing the coming of dawn sounded from it and rumbled.

This time round, what emerged from the moonlight was no longer knives or swords, but a huge, grotesque outline. It was a stake that emerged from the moonlight.

With the moon as the furnace, and aether as firewood, the Symphony of Predestination propelled the alchemy process, creating various complex alchemy arrays. They were attached to the incorporeal outline of the stake, and nature interference bestowed upon the stake the weight and texture of iron.

Then, the stake descended from the sky!

A forlorn whistle burst forth.

Turbulent waves of air swept across, and frenzied flames rose towards the sky.

— Night on Bald Mountain!

The stake was deeply wedged into the earth, nailing the squirming shadow firmly to the ground. The flames from purgatory turned into torrential rains, descending from the sky, with a fury seemingly intending to burn everything down.

The flames turned into torrents, covering the shadows. They flowed backwards, and even poured into the crack, causing a sharp scream of pain to ring out from the crack.

The shadows broke off and disappeared without a trace.

Then, countless swords whistled as they sailed through the air, and the faceless principal conductor staggered backwards. In the distant sky above, the main battery of the Mountain of Nomadism lit up with fiery flares, aiming at the royal musicians resurrected from death, and punishment descended from the sky!

"Deus vult!!!" The knights of the Witch Hammer roared furiously, and the ground shook. Amid the rumble, the torrent of steel consisted of armored knights swept through once more.

While Ye Qingxuan was distracted for only an instant, Lancelot, who was suppressed, had already entered the area about ten steps away from Ye Qingxuan. The Lance of the Dragon Slayer was lifted again. Even though Lancelot had been deeply wounded, the hands holding the weapon tightly were still as stable as steel.

In a flash, a forlorn whistling sounded.

Ye Qingxuan's left hand reached out and grabbed the fiery brilliance of a molten gold color, letting the blade tear his palm apart and cause severe pain, holding the body of the lance tightly.

He let it shake in anger, causing wounds to crack open on his palm, and the color of his bones was exposed. Countless strands of music theory of the Symphony of Predestination forcibly infiltrated, sealed, and suppressed the lance, constraining it in his hand.

Even though the blade was only one inch away from his heart.

Then, Ye Qingxuan lifted his right hand, balling it into a fist.

Towards the face close at hand…

He threw a punch!

Bam!

As if it had smashed on iron, a dull echo sounded.

Lancelot's gaze was still cold and hard, not shaken in the slightest. In the almost shattered body, a violent force re-emerged. The Lance of the Dragon Slayer shook once more, almost breaking free from Ye Qingxuan's hand.

"Say something, Lancelot!" Ye Qingxuan raised his fist and smashed it down on the man's face once more. "Don't you have a lot to say to me?"

Bam!

A breaking sound rang out, and its source couldn't be determined, be it from Ye Qingxuan's phalanges or Lancelot's face. Lancelot's eyes were still indifferent, not having changed in the slightest.

Even though they were so near each other.

"If you don't want to speak, let me do it." Ye Qingxuan looked at his face, and suddenly laughed, his voice hoarse. "Coincidentally, over the years, I also have a lot of questions that I haven't had time to ask you…"

"Still remember your sister?" He looked into Lancelot's eyes. "Have you ever thought about what happened to her after she left Avalon?"

He saw it.

In the indifferent, empty eyes, something flashed past.

But Ye Qingxuan's smile changed, becoming so grotesque, as if the fury had been engraved into his bone marrow. He lifted his hand and gathered up all his strength, throwing a punch at the face that was once noble and solemn in the past!

Bam!

Lancelot's skull shook, and his steely face was broken. Under the punches, it crumbled. The hoarse voice, with the pain and despair of the past, sounded in his ear

"She was humiliated!" Ye Qingxuan reached out, pulled out a long sword from the moon, aimed at Lancelot, and struck!

The blade tore the body apart, and dark red blood spurted out.

"She was scorned!" He flipped a dagger and stabbed it into Lancelot's heart, until the entire blade and handle entered the man's chest.

A tremendous force pushed Lancelot back, until he was pressed against the broken wall.

"— They called her a whore!" Ye Qingxuan shouted.

A heavy axe struck, breaking Lancelot's bones. The Lance of the Dragon Slayer fell out of his hand and clattered as it rolled onto the ground, like a forlorn whine.

"She was driven out of the shelter by other people!" Ye Qingxuan stepped on his face and smashed the hammer in his hand down with all his might, roaring in rage, "She knelt on the ground begging for the last dinner she deserved…for my sake!"

Bam!

Lancelot's chest caved in, broken pieces of internal organs flowing out of his mouth along with extravasated blood. He made a vague sound in his throat, wanting to speak, but couldn't say anything.

Only the sound of bones breaking rang out.

In the end, he was violently lifted from the ground by a hand.

"Yet you still have the nerve to say that you have a lot to tell me?" Ye Qingxuan looked down at him, and demanded coldly, "Lancelot, and how are you going to pay her back? Speak!"

After a long time, Lancelot raised his head with difficulty, his dry lips moving, and he breathed painfully. "Christine, that child… she is innocent, she doesn't know anything about it." His voice was hoarse and weak, barely breathing. "The Knights of the Round Table… were manipulated by me… When I have died, go and look for Tristan… He will pledge allegiance to you… All these should rightfully be yours, take it."

"What do you consider this to be?" In extreme fury, Ye Qingxuan laughed. "A ransom for your life? Or belated repentance?"

In Ye Qingxuan's hand, Lancelot coughed violently, coughing up crimson blood and fragments of his internal organs. He held Ye Qingxuan's hand tightly, using up all his strength. "For so many years… I have always… wanted to bring her home… very badly, Little Yezi, really very badly…"

Ye Qingxuan looked at him silently and let go. He coldly watched on as Lancelot knelt on the ground, panting painfully, clearly not having much longer to live.

In the end, Lancelot heard Ye Qingxuan's indifferent voice. "Over the years, she kept waiting for someone to bring her home. Unfortunately, the person she was waiting for was not you."

Lancelot was stunned.

"So that's how it is…" He lowered his head, his shoulders trembling.

His cracked lungs made a sound like a broken, choked up sob, but also resembled a torn-apart laugh. The laughter was hollow, full of bitterness and self-mockery.

After a long time, the laughter disappeared together with the panting.

Lancelot lifted a broken arm and carefully wiped the viscous blood from the corner of his mouth. "What are you waiting for, Ye Qingxuan… Do what you should, send me on my way to death."

He looked at Ye Qingxuan, his gaze full of calmness, with no fear or cowardice, and just quietly waited for his end.

He yearned for relief.

In the silence, Ye Qingxuan quietly pulled out the Lance of the Dragon Slayer from the ground, lifted the blade, and aimed it at his heart. "Farewell, Lancelot."

"Mhmm." Lancelot closed his eyes.

A brilliance flashed and disappeared.

The blood rain fell from the sky once more. On the blade, grayish-white dust fluttered in the rain and flew into the distance.

They dissipated without a trace.

…

On the chaotic battlefield, Ye Qingxuan held the Lance of the Dragon Slayer in his hand, raised his head, and looked up at the Firebirds battling in the sky.

The black Firebird turned into a scorching sun, entangling and struggling together with the golden ocean.

It was like a deadly battle between the black dragon and the golden dragon, with their teeth, wings and bones as weapons, tearing the other's body apart. Blood spewed out from within, falling towards the ground, and turned into heavy rain.

When the battle on the ground finally came to an end, and the last royal musician was turned into ashes in the light of purification, the battle in the sky was also finally about to be concluded.

The light was torn into pieces.

The sun of darkness devoured the vague phantom in the light greedily, swallowing it up bit by bit. Following Arthur's ecstatic laughter, a horrifying aether wave radiated from the highest point of Avalon once more.

The path of godly ascension was about to open again…

Behind Ye Qingxuan, the herald who had half of his body stained with blood went down on one knee. "Your Honor, your order please."

"Take care of the wounded, and go back first. Someone must guard Her Majesty after all." Ye Qingxuan gave a wave of his hand. "Your battle has ended temporarily.

"As for what comes next, just leave it to me."

The herald was momentarily shocked, but did not dare to disobey his order, and nodded. "Yes sir."

"Also, if Her Majesty asks about my whereabouts, tell her…" Ye Qingxuan picked up the Lance of the Dragon Slayer and smiled, but his eyes were not smiling. His pupils were pitch black and seemed bottomless. "After all, I've harbored so many years of deep hatred, let me go meet the has-been emperor first… and have a proper 'chat' with him."