by Feng Yue
The market was still crowded, filled with merchants, farmers, butchers, beggars in the sewers, civilians, and workers squatting in the corner. They were still in their original spots with no differences. Everything seemed to have stayed the same. But they were not speaking, only standing there silently. The people who had been among them had disappeared without a sound.
Replacing them were the crowds, gradually gathering from all directions. They came from the alleys, the big roads, the rubbish heap, and the magnificent carriages. The crowd gathered in silence.
Some of them were old, and some were young. There were also beggars and children. In the past, they laid in the ditch like garbage, looked down upon by everyone. But now, their eyes were terrifying.
The day had begun in the morning, but now it seemed that all of downtown had finally been awakened from a nine year sleep. It was as if an old beggar, who had gone through a long winter, finally opened his turbid and cloudy eyes, and gazed coldly at those who were stupidly attempting to take power. Their eyes were ruthless and downright vicious!
-
Everyone that had gathered seemed to be waiting feverishly, staring in the direction of the tavern. When they saw Alberto before the window, their eyes became scornful. They’re lips were cracked open with a mocking smile.
Under their stare, Alberto’s lips trembled. The blood in his face drained bit by bit until he became ghastly pale.
“How is it? Are you satisfied?” The Shaman stood behind him, holding down his shoulders. He leaned over and smiled, and murmured in Alberto’s ear, “See? They are my dogs. I don’t need to recruit anyone, and I don’t need to bargain with you. If I want to fight with you, then I will.
“If I say I gave you an opportunity, then I did.” He patted Alberto on the face and shook his head. “Unfortunately, you missed the chance.”
The Shaman passed Alberto and stood before the window. His eyes were full of pride as he inspected his troops. He opened his arms as if to embrace them. The wildly enthusiastic people began to cheer. The sound was like a rushing tide, making even the ground tremble, startling countless birds. The tide-like cheer resounded in the still area. It was as if a king had reappeared, shaking the entire city with the will of a single person!
Amid the deafening cheers, the Shaman raised his right hand and asked the cheering crowd, “My sons, my knights, tell them who is your master! Who is the true master of this place?”
“Shaman!” the people roared. They raised their right hand and responded, shouting out the name, “Shaman! Shaman! Shaman!” It was a will that did not need to be described in words, an enthusiasm that could be felt without outright expression, an invisible crown and scepter of supremacy. The former Dark King, the Shaman, had returned!
In the incomparable frenzy, the Shaman turned. Seeing the three pale faces, he smiled, genial and tolerant. “Don’t be afraid. Today, I just brought my children with to say hello to you all. I will not do anything to you, but there is just one thing I want you to remember. Go back and tell your new master, Mr. ‘Robin.’”
The Shaman held his head up as high as he overlooked the parliament in the shadows. Eyes haughty and icy, he warned,“Avalon’s Shadow is not something you can touch. Don’t play with fire.”
—
Soon, everything was over. The people who should have left did so, and the crowd that had gathered disappeared per the Shaman’s command. Stillness returned to the tavern.
Behind the bar, Ghosthand carefully wiped a glass and brought a shot of tequila to his master. “Sir, you have just returned. Is it okay to declare a war on parliament?” Ghosthand commented on his master’s declaration of war without restraint, “After all, they’re all important figures in Anglo. If they drive you away again, I’m afraid we’ll have to wait many more years. The next time you come back, you might find my tombstone.”
“Don’t worry! Even if that’s the case, I’ll take your tombstone to battle.” The Shaman shrugged. “Remember to make your tombstone a little lighter than usual. Otherwise, I won’t be able to carry it.”
“I’ll tell the craftsman to make the tombstone look like a turtle shell, so it can double as a shield.”
“Your loyalty is really comforting,” the Shaman sighed. “I can’t wait to carry your turtle shell to battle.”
Ghosthand downed his glass. Rolling his eyes, he asked, “The more you do this, the more they’ll try to speed up the search for the Blood Path. What if they do find the way, and open Avalon’s Shadow?”
“That’s impossible. Avalon’s Shadow is the power left behind by King Arthur in this world. Only King Arthur’s will can activate the Blood Path.”
“But King Arthur is dead.”
Shaman smiled. “Do you really think that there is nothing else left in this world that can represent King Arthur’s will?”
Ghosthand fell silent. After a while, he whispered, “Do you mean the sword in the stone?”
“Yes.” The Shaman nodded. “Crazy King Arthur created it by imagining the sea demon, Leviathan, the king of all natural catastrophes, as his enemy. The souls of sinners and the dragon were sealed in the sword. They wail every night, never allowed to rest in peace.”
“Isn’t it a royal seal?”
“Not entirely. The most important part is now lost.” The Shaman seemed to be drunk, speaking casually, oblivious to the fact that he had just uttered a deep and dark secret. “You know, King Arthur was a psycho. In the beginning, he was known as the Virtuous King, but later, he became Crazy King Arthur.
“At that time, his had begun to crumble, and he was unable to harness his immense power. The sword in the stone went out of control. The power that could fight off natural catastrophes went crazy. Nine-tenths of that power was controlled by Arthur’s remaining strength, but the scabbard was lost.
“That’s the most important part of the sword. It’s not the most powerful, but it represents the scepter and will of King Arthur. Since then, the royal family lost the key to the Blood Path and could no longer inherit the holy name of Arthur.”
Shaman downed a cup full of liquor and burped heartily. “Over the years, the royal family has been entrusting the church to secretly search for it. They finally found it somewhere, secretly took it back to the human world, and sealed it.
“But because of the advent of Avalon’s Shadow, the scabbard was secretly sent out of Avalon again. Unfortunately, there was an accident on the road, and the scabbard disappeared.”
Ghosthand stared at Shaman, completely unable to digest the complex information from the past.
Seeing his confusion, the Shaman laughed joyfully. “It’s a really sad story, isn’t it?” He poured himself a cup and drank it in one shot. He murmured in regret, “What a pity. Even if an ordinary person gets it, he can instantly inherit the name of Arthur and the power of the sword in the stone. It won’t be impossible to become the king of Anglo in one day, right?”
134 Bolero
When Charles said, “Isn’t the notebook there?” a bad feeling arose in Ye Qingxuan instinctively. When he looked in that direction, his heart sank and he fell into silence.
Charles had pointed to the corner of the living room. There was a painting on the wall; a cupboard; two chairs; and a finely-decorated, well-made, high-grade, amazingly warm and comfortable…dog bed!
The long-missed Old Phil was sprawled out on its bed, side-eyeing its first and third servants. Its eyes were arrogant as if he were the emperor in his palace. As it enjoyed the stupidity of mankind, it chewed on its breakfast—a leather-bound, beautifully made, and familiar…notebook?
“Senior, am I seeing things?” Ye Qingxuan asked after a long time. “Why am I seeing Old Phil eating my notebook?”
“Ah, that’s right!” Seeing that Ye Qingxuan was close to breaking down, Charles decided to give him a push. “He’s been eating it for half a month! He doesn’t even eat dog food these days. He just eats two pages per day. He’s finally finishing it today! Old Phil loves studying.
Junior, you can’t lose to him!”
“…I feel like I’ve lost at the starting point.” Speechless, Ye Qingxuan bent down to pick up the shreds with shaking hands. In the end, fate’s cruel arrangement pushed him to his limit.
“Old Phil!!” Putting the dog in a choke hold, Ye shook it violently. “How can you just eat it? This is a relic that my dad left behind for me! A relic! A relic! How can you just eat it? At least tell me! Do you know how hard life is for me? Y-you…spit it out!” His features twisted as he tried to open Old Phil’s mouth and save the last shred of paper.
Old Phil’s mouth opened and then closed.He closed his mouth tightly around Ye Qingxuan’s leg, causing him to fall down with a strangled cry. Old Phil was Old Phil after all. He never displayed any mercy when he was biting. His mouth could definitely go down in history. It had never failed, from biting the crown prince to its servant!
And this b*stard had chose the meatiest parts to bite, ensuring that one bite was enough for a scarred mind, and two bites were enough for mental trauma…no one could hide from it!
With that fatal bite, Ye Qingxuan practically passed out, and just rolled to the other side of the living room.
Taking advantage of this, Old Phil walked over to stand on Ye Qingxuan. It slapped the youth without any hesitation, making sure that Ye Qingxuan would never talk back to his ‘boss.’ His action was so furious and straightforward, sending chills down one’s spine, but it was understandable! Ye Qingxuan had broken the rules and offended his ‘boss!’
—
When Ye Qingxuan woke, it was already noon.
“Hey, Junior. You awake?” Charles squatted beside him, eating a durian. Smiling, he asked, “Want one? It’s fresh! I just got it from the backyard of the Royal School…”
“What just happened?” Ye Qingxuan asked in a daze. “Why am I here?” He looked around and realized that he was lying on the living room floor. There was a mess around him, and his body hurt as if he had been beat up.
“Oh, you forgot?” Charles gave him a sympathetic look. “This morning, you tried to steal Old Phil’s dog food and got punished. Even though you were beat up pathetically, I respect your courage! Come, good man, have a fruit!”
“…” Ye Qingxuan refused with a polite shake of the head.
“Oh right, Professor said to go to the library after you wake up.” Charles pointed at the closed library door. “There’s something important to discuss.”
—
Ye Qingxuan walked to the library nervously. He was ready to be scolded by the Professor for not going to class for the past few days.
However, Abraham seemed to be busy, seated behind his messy table with a giant stack of revised drafts. He did not look up until Ye Qingxuan coughed. “Oh Yezi, you’re here? Sorry, I was working…”
“It’s okay, it’s okay!” Feeling guilty, Ye Qingxuan had the urge to rush over and give his teacher a massage. “Professor, I shouldn’t disturb you, but what are you writing? You look so focused.”
“Oh, this…” Abraham chuckled shyly, though a glimmer of pride appeared in his wooden expression. “I got new inspiration for the translation method. I realized that if I use this method to decipher Voynich’s Manuscript, I might be able to translate the fragment at the end. If I’m successful, I can apply for a bigger budget! And then our budget won’t be so tight…”
“Voynich’s Manuscript?” Ye Qingxuan was stunned. “Professor, you’re going to be big!” The Voynich Manuscript had always been an important piece of literature for researching the history of the Dark Ages. Deciphering it had been a challenge for many scholars and Revelations musicians. Unfortunately, other than the scholar, Champollion, from centuries ago, and Miss Lola from recent years, nobody else had made progress on it. Others would go astray or be seen as fakes…
If someone were able to use another method to decipher the remaining passages, it could be significant enough to shake up the entire academic world. Abraham’s translation method would receive the sacred city’s recognition and become its own discipline. The idiots at the School of Revelations would not be able to belittle them anymore.
Maybe Abraham would receive commendation from the sacred city, and the academy’s funds! If the Church thought this method was an innovative breakthrough, he would definitely become a master musician!
As his student, Ye Qingxuan felt honored as well! He might have been doubtful if someone else had said those words, but he believed Abraham completely. With the Professor’s wooden personality, he would never lie. He would never say anything he had no confidence in either. Since Abraham had said so, it would work!
Thinking that Abraham would not be abject, and would receive recognition by everyone, riding the School of History of its awkward status, Ye Qingxuan could not help but feel overjoyed. His happiness at his successful robbery from the night before was nothing compared to this good news.
“Professor, you’ve hit gold!” Ye Qingxuan cheered. Then fluttering his lashes, he said, “Let’s eat a good dinner tonight! Senior keeps asking for meat. I can go out and buy a kilogram or two and make something good!”
“Uh, there’s no need. It’s not very certain yet,” Abraham said, a little embarrassed. “Wait until I publish it. What if I miscalculated? It’ll be bad to celebrate for no reason.”
“Professor, don’t be so modest. I believe in you!” Ye Qingxuan danced, already planning a celebration.
“Let’s talk about the important matters first.” Abraham organized his notes and coughed. His expression turned serious. He studied the youth. After a long silence, he finally said, “Yezi, Charles said that you’ve already grasped the performance of complex notes. Have you thought about what school to follow in the future?”
“Huh?”
“Look, you are considered to a Rhythm level musician now. You have to plan for the future.” Abraham scratched his head. “I don’t have that much experience, seeing as Charles has been stuck on the Rhythm level all these years. I feel like…he’ll be stuck for a few more years, so I haven’t prepared anything in that aspect. But if you have any schools you’d like to research, we can discuss it.”
“Uh, to be honest, I haven’t thought about it…” Ye Qingxuan felt cold sweat forming. “There isn’t a school that I really want to learn. Other than Black Friday, which I somehow learned, I haven’t looked at the music scores from other schools. So I want to wait until I have a sturdier foundation.”
“Reinforcing your foundation is one thing, but the earlier you choose your school, the better. Don’t be like me and waste half your life before finally becoming a musician,” Abraham said, a bit ashamed. “I was the best at the School of Abstinence, but I signed a confidential agreement with the military for this material, so I can’t teach it. I started researching the School of Revelations halfway. You can see that I haven’t accomplished much now. Don’t be like me!”
“Professor, I think you’re really awesome already. If anything, just let me learn Revelations with you. Our major is with the School of Revelations anyway!” Ye Qingxuan shrugged carelessly. “I can read and decipher ancient texts easily, so I can be a scholar in the future.”
“…” Abraham knocked the side of Ye Qingxuan’s head. “This is about your future, not some meaningless thing. Yezi, be more serious about it.”
“Or you can just teach?” Ye Qingxuan suggested. “I’ll learn whatever you teach. I’m just at the Rhythm level now, and there’s still a long time before I get to the third level. Maybe I’ll find something that suits me as I learn.”
“That is very irresponsible, but I guess there isn’t a better solution.” Sighing, Abraham warned, “But you must keep in mind that different schools have opposing principles. You can’t venture too deep when you’re still experimenting.
“Take the School of Mind and Summoning for example. The first focuses on will and humanity, while the latter focuses on instinct and the beastly nature. If you learn the two at the same time, they will contradict each other,
and you’ll make no progress. The same applies to the School of Modifications and Illusions. One researches substances, and the other, emptiness.
“Compared to those, the differences between the School of Choir and Revelations aren’t too obvious, but the former focuses on the nature of life, while the other focuses on the outside world. It’s difficult to put them together as well.”
Hearing this, Ye Qingxuan became curious. “What about Abstinence? Is there nothing that contradicts the School of Abstinence?”
“It opposes every other school,” Abraham sighed. “That’s why I don’t want you to be like me.” With that, he pulled out the blackboard and began to write with his prosthetic arm.
“The focus of the School of Abstinence is on the nature of aether, so it contrasts with other schools. I am best at countering and deciphering, which is why I can find something similar in the School of Revelations. Other than these two fields, there isn’t much I can teach you.
“Here is a score that I’ve deciphered myself. It consists solely of common basic runes, which is rare. Musicians from any school can learn it. It can help you form your foundation.” As he spoke, he wrote the name of the score on the blackboard—Bolero.
135 Interpretation Method
In the basement, a gentle melody sounded from the youth’s fingertips. The instrument’s strings vibrated softly. The melody was like fine dust floating in the sunlight, peaceful and melodious…
As Ye Qingxuan’s played, strands of water vapor slowly condensed in the air, latching onto his body and fluttering out in all directions.
Across from him, Charles whistled while eating a fruit. The corner of his lips curled up into a smile. “Good job! You succeeded on the third try?”
Ye Qingxuan controlled the threads of water floating in the air and replied. “The melody is quite simple and only uses basic runes. The notes itself are difficult to understand, but you can use the interpretation method to figure it out. It’s not so difficult in the beginning.”