Silent Crown

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

To an ordinary musician, the realm of aether was simply too mystical and illusory. Most people would not even be capable of imagining the existence of the realm of aether or physically touch that secretive region hidden behind nine layers of the sea of aether. Long ago, some people even thought that 'the realm of aether' only existed in the imaginations and perceptions of musicians.

A world that was purely made up of aether, which was a material that did not exist? Unimaginable.

There was only one world after all, right?

For the longest time, countless musicians tried to explain the difference between the two worlds to their own students, but very few of them were capable of giving a clear explanation. Therefore, they had no choice but to create the new concept of a 'physical world' in order to explain the world that humans could see.

At the end of the day, the things that humans could perceive were too few and far between. It was like a dwarf who was unable to appreciate a beautiful scenery because it was just too tall for him or the insect who would never be able to understand the cold weather of winter because its environment was always in the summer.

Humans had always been very restricted by their five senses. Many scholars predicted that possibly more than 17 dimensions existed in this world but humans were only capable of interacting with three of them.

This was why musicians yearned to make use of aether to gain a broader appreciation of this world. This was the biggest misunderstanding that most people had. The realm of aether was not a dimension that hid behind another dimension, nor was it a bubble that existed beyond another bubble, nor was it a world that was created from aether; It was a world as 'perceived' by aether.

To be more exact, the actual term was "seeing the world through aether." By transforming into extensions of aether, humans could break through their own limitations to become one step closer to the reality of the world and grasp even greater power. The only catch was that this was only useful for musicians that were at least of distortion level.

One's body could only be "aether-ized" after aether circulation had been formed within. One could only delve deep into the realm of aether by utilizing the Symphony of Predestination as the carrier of one's consciousness and character, and possibly even to form one's own scepter. It was even possible to possess the "nature" of a particular existence and turn it into an "element" in the realm of aether, so that it had completely surpassed the level of humans.

This was precisely why the level of Masters was so mysterious, why scepters were so tempting, why the origin of catastrophes was so secretive and why the existence of the Originator had attracted the pursuit of countless musicians.

But now that this power had been clamped down by the Wheel of Balance, any scepter-level users would be banished from the upper tiers, which was also the realm of aether, to become ordinary humans once again!

To lose immortality and unlimited power only to be trapped within an insignificant body.

This was the real terror of the Wheel of Balance!

It was an obstacle that had been set in the sea of aether, and a door that guarded against musicians from crossing over to the realm of aether from the physical world. No amount of scepters would matter if one could control it. When the realm of aether and the physical world have been forcefully separated from each other, only the physical body could be used and the power that could be wielded would be close to pathetic. By then, under the attack of tens of thousands of soldiers, even saints would not be able to do much!

Right now, it merely existed and was forcing the physical world and the realm of aether to be held in a balance. It might not have been completely sealed, but within its domain, all the musicians felt as if they were wearing an extremely heavy shackle, so much so that they would never be as relaxed and free as they were in the past.

In an instant, everyone was shivering in fear. Soon after, countless beams of light streaked across.

In the instant that everyone understood its nature, almost all of the Masters dashed towards the Ultimate as fast as they could. At this moment, the Ultimate was no longer an advantage but a potentially fatal problem.

If it was an artifact made for killing, then countless people would have rushed head-on into danger; if it was an artifact made for protection, then a number of Schools would go all out to gain control of it for their own protection. But now, the impact of the Wheel of Balance was too overwhelming. It was so terrifying that no one dared to interfere.

For the longest time, all musicians had enjoyed the privilege of being treated like Gods. But with the appearance of the Wheel of Balance, everyone knew that all of this might just change completely. Its mere existence was a shackle on the musicians.

No matter who managed to gain control of it, this person would highly likely be attacked by all the other musicians. There were very few people with the abilities to accomplish such a feat. One would have to rely on absolute power in order to gain complete control over it and turn it into one's own source of power, otherwise, it would just become a problem.

The further it flew, the more fearful they became. Before it flew beyond hundreds of miles, the Wheel of Balance was still able to exert influence over their powers. The power that had been summoned from the realm of aether seemed to be passing through heavy rubber and was difficult to control. The shackles seemed to have been loosened slightly.

The Masters turned around and looked behind them. There was a collective sigh. Terrible light was rising from within the Ultimate and there were heavy and dense aether waves from a hundred miles away. They felt an indescribable sense of relief. If they were one step slower, they might not have been able to escape in time.

"It has finally begun…" All the Masters looked at each other. Their hearts were heavy and they could barely breathe.

"Since we were lucky enough to escape, let's not think too much." A Master shook his head while laughing bitterly. "We should count ourselves lucky to still be alive." For some reason, his voice became thin and high-pitched all of a sudden. He was stunned as he became conscious of how everyone was looking at him. Shock, confusion, and even… fear?

"What's wrong with all of you?" the Master asked but before he could finish his question, his body began to spasm in a queer manner. His old and frail face began to disintegrate, as if a ball of clay had been flattened and was about to be shaped into something else again. Slivers of grey fog rose from his pores, until they eventually shrouded him completely. White hair turned to black and his wrinkles had completely vanished.

He was returning back to his youth.

But he was not at all happy with this transformation. Instead, he sank into despair as he began to scream. When the screaming stopped suddenly, he raised his head again. The expression on his face had changed completely.

Paganini!

All the expressions of shock, blank and confusion were all frozen. Very soon, similar spasms spread like a plague amongst them. Their screams grew louder and louder until they stopped very suddenly. By the time it was silent once again, all of them wore the same expression on their faces.

…

Infection.

The terrible infection was spreading like mad within a circumference of several thousand miles. In the instant that the Wheel of Balance appeared, the musicians that had entered the Ultimate before or even approached the Ultimate had been under the control of that queer violin sound. The bizarre music theory that had been embedded in their bodies was now beginning to grow and replacing all their powers inside out.

In the blink of an eye, the infection was spreading at a terrifying rate. Even those Masters, who had been purified by Ye Qingxuan's purifying music theory and had signed contracts with the court, were not spared. This was despite the locks of purification instantaneously exploding within their bodies to completely seal the "diseased region" of the infection and igniting the flames of destruction.

The entire Sovereign was filled with the foul smell of burning. Flames that were usually hot enough to burn an ordinary person into complete ashes could not even kill them, but the pain was more than enough to break them. What made this even more terrifying was that the 'lesion' would live and die with them. They had completely fused with their Symphonies of Predestination so much so that they could no longer be separated.

Mable had no choice but to command the Firebird to seal them by force and keep them frozen completely. They might not be dead but they were not truly alive either. Although they had tried to prepare themselves for this scenario, the terror of Paganini was still beyond their expectations.

Even outside of the Ultimate, countless musicians were being transformed as they howled in despair. No one knew when did Paganini plant the seeds of the Changing Music Theory in them to turn them into disease carriers. Prior to the disease finally acting up on them, the Changing Music Theory in their bodies had already spread to countless others.

The teachers and their disciples in the institutes were being destroyed together while the elders and students in Schools were falling… the terrible plague was spreading!

"These are… the four knights!" The old musicians looked at the 'black spots' that were surfacing in their scepters. They finally understood why their defenses were completely ineffective. Only the four knights that had been created by Hyakume were capable of transforming Changing Music Theory into poison to be spread like the plague!

This was similar to how he managed to cause the downfall of half of Sacred City back then. Even if the sages were guarded against him, he was still able to infiltrate with his four knights by infusing them into his own scepter.

"It's very simple, isn't it?" A gentle voice rang beside his ear, "It may seem difficult, but all you have to do is to set a simple target."

No one knew when had Paganini's power infiltrated the lens. At this moment, he was clad in a green robe and was riding on a green horse. He did not come closer. He merely continued to stare from far away, even as the black spots began to spread. The old musician was in a daze. He felt as if he was being split into two. One of him was degenerating rapidly and was in incredible pain, while the other seemed to be awakened in the darkness. It was growing rapidly while hungrily devouring whatever rationale that was left behind so as to switch to Paganini's scepter eventually.

The old musician raised his hands helplessly and pressed them on his forehead. He was going to kill himself. He could not live like this. There were too many Asgard secrets in his head, and these included the codex of Asgard and even the design of the most powerful object on earth, which was the giant armor Hercules. Even if only one-tenth of these secrets were leaked, Asgard would still be in big trouble.

Fortunately, in order to protect this information, he had preset a command in his own scepter that would destroy everything with the slightest trigger. Everything, including himself.

The moment he sensed that he was in danger, streaks of angry lightning shot out of God's eye.

"How dare you!" Endless lightning streaked into the lens. The illusion of Odin appeared and struck Paganini with a devastating blow. There was turbulence in the elements and Paganini's face began to crack.

This Asgardian knowledge and information had been accumulated and passed down by musicians for thousands of years. Based on the ability to cause damage alone, no catastrophe would be a match for Odin.

"Your Highness! Don't come over…" The old musician knew that he was about to be saved but there was no joy in his eyes. Only fear. "His target is you!"

…

Time had come to a standstill and no one knew just how long had passed. Nevertheless, only a moment had passed in the outside world. And in that single moment, the lens was broken.

The Second Prince shot up into the sky and set himself above the lightning throne and transformed into Odin. With a single wave of his hand, countless bolts of lightning struck. The nature of God in his left eye was burning furiously but his right eye, which was originally blank, had lit up with a mysterious glow…