Silent Crown

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

"Father, it's been a long time," said Ye Qingxuan.

Amid the killings and roars in battle, specks of blood and shattered pieces of iron shot through the air.

In an instant, everything seemed to be have left them.

Only the knight remained standing in front of Ye Qingxuan. He took off the cumbersome laurel and helmet on his head, revealing mottled gray hair and a face that was as determined as iron.

No trace of melancholy and weakness could be found on it.

"Yeah, it's been a long time." Bann gazed at the child he raised. "I remember that you used to pursue righteousness as a child back then. Are you also intending to do something wrong now?"

Ye Qingxuan thought about it, then laughed. "Probably yes?"

He finally confirmed his answer.

The old priest nodded, and he seemed to have left, leaving only the old knight with iron-like determination standing in front of Ye Qingxuan, his gaze cold.

"Then you must be more careful." Bann bent down slightly, lowered his center of gravity, and supported the heavy sword with his arm. The nicked and scratched blade aimed at the face of the young man from his past. "Don't expect me to be soft-hearted like Abraham."

He had gotten ready to strike.

It was the first step in his routine, something he had done thousands of times.

And so, he began to make a deathly strike.

A biting chill abruptly spread from his body. In an instant, all the knights of the Witch Hammer on the battlefield turned back suddenly, shocked by the terrifying tenacity that was so heavy that one could hardly breathe. They rushed back to help their leader, disregarding their own safety, and threw themselves before Ye Qingxuan, wanting to block the way of the blade. However, they were pestered by the Knights Templar, and it was difficult for them to turn back to help.

Watson squinted, a trace of viciousness and gloominess flashing across his eyes, but Ye Qingxuan held him back by pressing on his shoulder, making it inconvenient for him to react. He turned back in shock and saw Ye Qingxuan wave, interrupting the musical movements of the purification musicians.

Then, he unsheathed his sword and walked to the knight in front of him.

He intended to fight his opponent one on one.

He challenged the Captain of the Knights Templar, the Laurel Knight of the Sacred City, with his inept sword skills.

It was so ridiculous that it made one feel like laughing.

But when it was Ye Qingxuan who did so, no one could force out a laugh.

He might win.

Just as such thoughts appeared in the minds of the others, they saw Ye Qingxuan stabbing the sword in his hand into the ground. His hands empty, he walked towards the enemy in front.

It was as if he was seeking death.

"Actually, I have already thought about such a situation before coming here. The Sacred City can implant controls in my teacher and force him to kill Charles, so it would be unreasonable to assume that they would treat me anymore nobly, right?"

He gazed at the old man in front of him, looking at the unfamiliar wrinkles that had grown on his face. His gaze softened. "I am actually somewhat scared, father. You are a person I look up to. Father, if you become my enemy, I will be afraid to die.

"But later on, I figured it out. If you, father, become my enemy, then you must be thinking that I have done something wrong." Ye Qingxuan stepped forward and spread his hands without taking any precautions and showing any resistance. He calmly walked to Bann. "In the world, only you can make me doubt myself. Back then, you saved me and taught me, making me who I am today.

"So, father, if you think that I have become an incorrect person, then come and kill me.

"Destroy the last evil in the world, do it. Father, I will not resist if you are the one to do it."

He stared at the enemy's face, watching the man's aged eyes that were no longer like how they looked in the past. He moved forward, step by step, welcoming his death. He continued until a faint trace of sadness flashed across the enemy's eyes.

"You have always been the child that makes me feel at a loss, Little Yezi." Bann closed his eyes.

"Always."

It was his final sigh.

At the moment, the will of iron lit up in the aging eyes, captivating souls. It tore all the weakness and reluctance apart, and an almost non-human murderous intention erupted from them.

Steel roared.

The blade screamed and cut through the air.

The gleam of iron moved forward, straight.

Everything seemed to have become fleeting as the blade struck, like a bubble-like dream.

After a long time had passed, it once again brought the coldest wind and snow from the winter back then. The priest in black moved forward in the illusory blizzard, tearing the cold wind apart, shattering the phantom of the young man was left behind in the past. Then, he turned into burning light, rushing towards the present.

At the moment, the tenacity of man revealed a power so terrifying that it distorted the world. It was as if Bann wanted to wipe out the old days of the past with a strike, burning away all the memories, be it the pleasant ones or the unpleasant ones, not leaving any room for himself, and no one could stop him!

The mighty war seemed to have lost all meaning before the sword.

At the moment, everything was frozen. Only the one step Bann took forward shook the various countries on earth. It shattered the iron-like earth, causing the clouds to shake and the sky to tremble.

After the brief moment ended, time, which had been distorted, flowed rapidly once more.

After taking one step, Bann was already standing behind Ye Qingxuan. He lowered his head, putting his blade back into its sheath. A clear, low whistle burst forth as the sword scraped against the sheath.

He kept his head low, sighed heavily, and closed his eyes.

His iron-like determination shattered.

His exhaustion was clearly visible.

Then only did blood flow out of Ye Qingxuan's wound.

Bright red liquid dripped down from the side of the face, falling on his pure white sleeves. It blended into the ash and dust, dyeing them a little scarlet.

Ye Qingxuan raised his hand blankly and touched the right of his face. He touched the scar that stretched across the side of his face. It was quickly healing, but it scar couldn't really fade.

It was the trace the sword left. It seemed to be able to cut through time, but it did not take away his life, and merely left an obvious scar.

Ye Qingxuan couldn't help but laugh softly. "Thank you, Father."

Behind him, Bann sat down on the steps tiredly. It was as if the aging process that he had been waiting for decades had begun in an instant. It drowned him, taking away all his power. He lowered his head, recalling how the boy in the snow looked back then.

It had been so many years, yet the memory was so clear.

The child was so flustered, walking lonesomely in the snow, like he had been abandoned by the whole world. But when he talked about his ambition, his eyes would shine.

"Little Yezi, have you realized your dreams back then?" Bann asked.

"Sorry, father." Ye Qingxuan replied softly. "I have forgotten such things a long time ago."

Bann was stunned, and after a long time, his expression became bitter. "Is it so?"

"Yes, it is so." Ye Qingxuan nodded and stepped forward.

Bann was left tiredly sitting in the ruins, his eyes closed.

Torrents of steel whizzed past him.

It was just like how the old days had gone.

…

Amid the fights and turmoil, Ye Qingxuan walked up the steps one by one, pushing open the door of the Apostolic Palace. In the midst of innumerable wary, alert Knights Templar, he embarked on the road and headed for the sanctuary ahead, as if he was entering uninhabited land.

And at the moment, the mighty bells sounded from the top of the Sacred City.

The trial regarding the Son of God was about to begin.

This time around, he wasn't late after all.

Regardless of what was waiting for him behind the door, he was already ready.

He would take Charles away from this place.

He did not care about what price he must pay was, even if it meant that he would become an enemy of the whole world!

At the moment, the final door slammed open in front of him.

So, the thick bloody smell in the air hit him in the face. Winding scarlet flowed out from behind the thick threshold, seeping beneath his feet, trickled down along the steps, and crawled on bit by bit, just like life passing away.

Everything seemed frozen.

Ye Qingxuan walked forward stiffly, stepping on the viscous blood under his feet, and entered the sanctuary.

But no more breathing could be heard in the room, and the only things left were countless corpses lying in their seats in a disorderly manner. They were originally the positional sacrifices of their nations, the die-hard members of the Church, and the few remaining brave men in the College of Cardinals.

They were mentally prepared to be killed by Ye Qingxuan in his rage. Here, they would represent the world to witness the trial of the Son of God and Ye Qingxuan's ending.

But at the moment, everything had yet to start, but they were already dead.

For a moment, blood was bestowed with life, freeing itself from their bodies and seeping out of every pore, like a silkworm breaking free of its cocoon. The endless blood converged into a shallow river, flowing down from the seats located higher up the steps, and finally flowed towards the door, winding.

Only dry corpses were left in their seats, traces of blood vessels that had bulged left on their skin, and they still maintained their painful posture from the moment of their death. No eyeball could be seen in the withered eye sockets, leaving only heart-rending empty spaces.

And at the highest point, directly facing the door, where one could look down at everything, Ye Qingxuan saw the last King of Red.

The old Pope wore his crown, holding the scepter which once represented supreme authority in one hand, his expression majestic and cold as he looked down at the defendant below. He maintained such a position attitude, but he was no longer breathing.

One need not deliberately investigate.

He was already dead.

The filamentous fungi of Nibelungenlied could be vaguely seen extending outwards from his nose and mouth, but the fungi had all withered, no longer alive.

From the human body to the deepest part of the Sacred City where the huge system of roots connecting countless brains was located…

Death had descended here.

In an instant, all traces of life were erased from the inside out.

Only empty bodies were left.

An incredibly great chill engulfed Ye Qingxuan.

Ye Qingxuan stood frozen, looking sluggishly at the center of the sanctuary, at the prisoner who was surrounded in blood on the dock, at the deformed and bent-over figure.

He lowered his head, and tears seemed to fell from his cheeks into the blood under his feet.

The faint sound of the water droplets echoed in the silence.

"Charles?" Ye Qingxuan gazed at his figure, unable to believe what he was seeing. "Is that you?" He wanted to walk forward, but his footsteps stopped abruptly in a pool of blood. From the flustered figure, he felt a certain indescribable vibe.

It wasn't grotesque, nor was it gloomy, but it felt so distant.

It seemed that he could not reach where Charles was in his whole life.

"I seemed to have had a long dream…" He heard Charles' voice, sharp and hoarse, as if the incomplete vocal cords were convulsing in pain, whining forlornly, producing human language. "I can't remember what I have dreamed, but I can't help but feel very upset."

"Later, I finally remembered it." As he whispered, Charles turned back. Ye Qingxuan saw Charles' deformed body convulsing and twitching beneath his prison garb, and the side of his face, which was covered in tears.

"Our teacher is dead…" Charles covered his face, choking, and wept silently.

Ye Qingxuan pursed his lips and went forward, wanting to hug him, but he couldn't cross the short distance. The blood blocked him off, stubbornly refusing to let him walk forward, turning the short distance into that between the heaven and the abyss.

He was stunned.

He looked at the figure sluggishly, as if… he had finally understood something.

Ye Qingxuan finally heard His last sorrowful whine.

"In the end, Charles died too." In the long silence, the Son of God, the catastrophe, raised his eyes.

He looked down at the ugly world in front of him. Looking at the white-haired young man in front of him, his gaze became one of realization. "Little Yezi, are you here to kill me as well?"

Ye Qingxuan opened his mouth and wanted to say something, but Charles withdrew his gaze indifferently.

"It doesn't matter." Charles said, "Whatever." And so, in the sound of bones breaking, he propped up his hunched body, letting the deformed bones break. On the body which was barely covered in a layer of skin, the muscles and internal organs surged, and the broken bones mended again, returning to where they should be.

His sores peeled off, his long, withered hair was cut off, and it grew back. The loose skin ruptured and was regrown. The nail and shackles wedged into his skull fell off.

Everything that had once grown distortedly returned to the right track.

After shedding off the ugly body of a mortal, the perfect person who seemed to have gathered all the brilliance in the world reappeared, but he was completely different from the past.

On the empty and chaotic land, the abyss was dark, and the spirituality of God coursed through his blood.

He finally descended onto the world.

And so, He stepped forward, passing by Ye Qingxuan, and walked out of the grave-like sanctuary.

In front of him, on the burning square, the remaining blood suddenly rose, and a huge skeleton grew out of it, followed by strands of muscles, internal organs, nerves, and finally, pitch-black scales covered the behemoth.

The Terminal Dragon, that had already died a long time ago, opened its eyes. It lifted its vicious eyes and howled at the sky. Then, it tamely lowered its head in front of its master, letting him step on its head and board its back. Then, as countless pairs of fearful eyes looked on, it spread its wings.

The shadow shrouded the earth.

"Charles!" Ye Qingxuan roared, shouting his former name.

The godly man on the dragon's back turned back and cast him a lofty and calm look.

"I want to change all this, forever."

It was the final goodbye.

Then, the Terminal Dragon flew up, flapping its wings. It set off Föhn wind and fire rain, and flew away in the sky.

And so it left.

It disappeared from his sight.