by Feng Yue
“I’ll stop them.”
Philip reached out to Colt’s shoulder. The Choir song sang from thin air and fell onto Colt. It chased away the maggot-like curse and transformed into vague wings in his back. It was sacrificial aid.
“Colt, run.” He looked into the distance at Naberius and grasped his broken sword. “Go toward the Sacred City. Go as far as you can.”
Finally understanding something, Colt paled considerably. He almost collapsed onto the ground but he clenched his jaw and abandoned the carriage. He turned and left without daring to look back.
Under the aid, his speed was incredible. He disappeared in an instant.
“These believers are so narrow-minded. They don’t even care about their lives.” Naberius sighed. “Why don’t they want to live? They don’t see themselves as people and don’t see others as people… So how are they different from us dark musicians?”
No one replied to his taunting.
Staring at him, Philip raised his broken sword and brought it between his brows. “I vow to destroy the demons,” he said.
The score of discipline rumbled. Majestic light emerged behind him. The cracked halo of light burned fervently. The blue fire seemed to come from purgatory; it was terrifying. The cries of countless sinners traveled from it.
In Purgatory, countless sleeping eyes opened. The figures clad in red gazed at the dirty world and cried in unison, “I vow to destroy the demons!” The voices roared like an avalanche, like a hurricane.
In an instant, the silent bell in the Sacred City rang. The stone coffins in the dark corner of the Holy Spirit Hall shook. The sleeping spirits awoke and opened their eyes, looking into this direction.
Thus, holy light fell from the sky. The white-gold light was so hot, so pure, and clean to the point that it could bear no tainting. Everything that touched it was vaporized.
Under the pouring of light, Philip expanded until he was a two-meter tall giant. The halo of power spun behind him. It rumbled, calling for lightning to transform into wings. In an instant, even the sun seemed to dim in comparison.
All that remained in the world was this pure and flawless light.
“F*ck, Holy Spirit transformation…why do you guys keep doing this stuff?” Naberius swore. “No wonder he gave so much money. They’re waiting for me here.” Then the light sliced his head off. The head opened its mouth and sneered.
-
The moment the Sacred City bell rang, the young musician praying in the hall opened his eyes. He quickly walked out of the hall and ran through the Papal Palace. Passing through the doors, he walked along the hall and entered the depths. He knocked on the door.
“Enter,” someone behind the door said.
The musician entered and bowed his head politely. He did not dare look at the bishops sitting around the table. He offered a map. “I found grandmaster Philip! He is not far from the Sacred City, only a few hundred meters away, but he used the Holy Spirit transformation. He may, unfortunately, be…at risk.”
In the dim room, heavy curtains blocked the light. The room was filled with the thick odor of medicine. The priests had been discussing quietly for an emergency meeting. Hearing the musician’s words, they froze and stared at each other.
“I did not expect the situation to be so grave.” An old priest in red nodded and looked into the depth of the room. Behind the drapes was a coughing and frail figure. “Archbishop, let me go.”
Behind the drapes, the figure opened his mouth but quickly started coughing. “This battle is truly difficult,” a hoarse voice came brokenly between coughs. “Through the years, the Ministry of Information has been declining with no hope for rising again. New blood is rare… Father Will, please take them back.”
“Yes, Father.” Will nodded respectfully.
“The others…” The figure hacked and doubled over. He uttered painfully, “The others…just clear them out.”
“Yes, Father.” Nodding, Will rose.
A servant came over with his sword and armor. He rushed out of the palace with his sword. Soon, a ray of light shot into the air and sped toward the distance.
Silence returned to the dim room. The only sound was the coughs behind the drapes.
“Archbishop,” someone asked cautiously, “how should we deal with this?”
“This?” The man did not seem to understand.
Which event? During these past few days, too many things had happened and all were major events… No one would have thought that a new mess would arise before the betrayal of the Romulusians truly ended. The craziness of Anglo’s new sword bearer had shocked everyone.
So many people had gotten up and fought secretly because of this. It had affected so many people and even the Sacred City’s dignity was involved. Some people had definite stances while others were not. The most frustrating fact was that the Papal Chamber did not say anything. Even the Silent Authority had started investigating…
So how should this be dealt with?
The man behind the drapes only coughed.
-
The beam of light flew across the Sacred City with scary speed. Flying in the half-aetheric state, it was comparable to the speed of sound. Within a few minutes, it had crossed the long distance. However, the closer he was, the stronger the sense of danger in Will.
He instantly appeared within the location marked on the map. He was amongst an endless mountain range. There was a large mine under his feet. Machines rumbled and countless people bustled around.
“Here?” Closing his eyes as he sensed, the light descended.
As the people screamed in terror, he brought his sword down. Breaking apart a boulder, he revealed a scrap of red cloth. It was from Philip’s robe.
Will’s face darkened. He closed his eyes and sang a hymn. After a few measures, the prediction score from Revelations sent a sign.
Sixty kilometers to the north.
The light flashed and appeared sixty kilometers away. In the wilderness, a clump of burnt hair hung from a branch. Frowning, Will sang again. The revelation said: thirty kilometers to the east.
Will did not move. He sang once again and another revelation appeared: nineteen kilometers to the south. He continued using the music score to track Philip but they pointed in all directions with dozens of different results.
Boom! In anger, the blade gouged the earth.
Will was livid as he finally realized that someone was using the ‘medium misleading’ of Revelations to disrupt his perceptions. All Revelations music scores would lead to the wrong result!
To strengthen the effect, someone had probably scattered objects with Philip and Colt’s aura all around the Sacred City! If Will put effort in to look deeply, he could sense the differences between the media, but in a hurry, he could not tell. He could only rush in the wrong locations.
And now, someone had probably already isolated him. He was late…
As veins bulged, Will roared in anger.
-
The true battlefield was in the distance.
The wilderness had been scorched. The earth was wounded and turned to singed soil. It was as if giants had been fighting here and destroyed everything. A mountain in the distance collapsed. A tragic crack had opened in the land as well. Deep inside, lava shone vaguely. It was the scar left by the Sword of Judgement. The disordered aether created a turbid mass. The music theory here had become tangled and would not recover for years.
In the center, Naberius with a chest riddled with holes crawled out of the lava. He roared in pain, “This time…really is a loss…”
404 A Sword on the Ground
“Mordy, how many times have I told you that you must be careful with the dragon breath?” Naberius was out of breath. “If Uncle didn’t complete the symphony of predestination two days ago, I would have died from that.”
“Oh…” Mordred nodded, half understanding, creating a gust of wind.
Before Naberius was a menacing beast. It had its back to the sun and cast a terrifyi
ng shadow. Countless scales glinted with cold light like blades. When it spoke, it spat out sulfur and fire, creating gales of wind and sparks. It was a giant black dragon!
“Thankfully I just completed the symphony. I really would’ve died.” Naberius raised his mostly-complete left hand and climbed up the dragon from the nose and head. He stabbed himself. Looking at his riddled body, he could not help but feel sad.
“Since when did grandmasters die so easily? Seems like it’s still better to hurry and create ‘Legend.’ Being a scepter is much more reliable. Ah, let’s go. Hurry!” he urged. “Remember to eat all the evidence.”
“Yes, uncle.” Mordred opened his mouth and inhaled. A hole to the Dark World seemed to open up. Everything in sight was swallowed. His dragon breath surged. It swept across the land and the soil overturned, burying everything under. He specialized in killing and setting fire, burning all bodies and traces.
Naberius felt around his scorched pocket. He took out some seeds and scattered them carelessly. He sang a Choir song to urge growth. Soon, a few seeds sprouted. Dots of green appeared on the ground and began growing.
It looked odd upon inspection but at least it was not as much of an eyesore as the original barren land. The wilderness was so large. Even if the Sacred City investigated intensively, it would still take forever to get results.
“Finally finished the task.” Naberius chuckled from the back of the dragon as they soared. “I hope that friend won’t be too naïve.” He looked in Colt’s direction and squinted. He murmured, “Sometimes, the way things develop are not always as one wishes…”
-
After waiting long enough, the priest disguised as a merchant finally found his target. It was the dark saint of Avalon, the controller of more than half of the smuggling between the East and West, the heir of the Shaman, the new sword bearer of Anglo—Ye Qingxuan’s…agent.
In an emptied tavern beside the port, Watson sat at a table and poured a glass for himself. He looked up at the dusty traveler.
“Mr. Watson, I’m sure you know why I am here.” The newcomer lifted his collar, revealing the emblem of the Ministry of Information. His expression was coldly serious. “I request to see Mr. Ye and speak directly to him. This is the last chance. I hope you will value it.”
On the wheelchair, Watson nonchalantly picked up the glass. Without adding any salt or lemon juice, he threw his head back and downed the glass. Then he placed it on the table lightly.
“You don’t qualify,” he stated. “Just tell me. I’m the one in charge of the violent crimes. Does the Ministry have some dirty work for us? I’m pleasantly surprised and flattered.” Despite his words, he was not pleasantly surprised at all. His tone was mocking. Anger flashed past the priest’s face but he forced it down.
He took out a letter and passed it to Watson, who removed the seal. He scanned it over and, seeing the signature at the bottom, his expression grew serious. It was a guarantee from a Papal Chamber’s archbishop.
“We can let go of past wrongdoings,” the priest uttered, studying Watson’s changing expression, “but Colt must live.”
Ever since the Inquisition was divided by the nations, the Ministry of Information began declining, just like the leader’s health. Being pushed to the side and dissolved was just a matter of time. Under this situation, they needed an achievement more than anything.
Now, they finally received new blood in the form of a musician with a bright future close to becoming a saint. Their comeback was so soon. But then Ye Qingxuan slapped them in the face and tore apart their last shred of dignity. What could the furious Ministry do?
“Actually, there’s something I’m curious about…” Watson said in a low and careful voice. “Do you really not know what Colt did before? Or…do you not care?”
“You need not worry about our own matters,” the priest replied indifferently. “No matter what, Colt is the hero who saved the War of Romulus and the only one who passed the trial. He was rewarded by the Pope and is a future saint. We cannot allow him to be treated like so.”
“And you’ll do everything to uphold his image, right?” Watson laughed. “Otherwise, if his image is tarnished, everything you’ve done will become meaningless, right?
“Back then, you accepted Colt’s request without asking the Papal Chamber’s opinion and now you realize he’s a hot potato but you can’t toss him away… If you admit defeat now, your reputation will be ruined completely.
“I’m sure you’ve been hesitating these past few days, right? Otherwise, you would have come the first day my boss went crazy.”
The priest did not reply. His expression grew livid until he finally said, “I believe that my presence and the promise in the letter is enough to express our sincerity. I hope you will stop before it’s too late. Stop the personal fight now. Otherwise, no one will win.”
“Personal…fight?” Watson scoffed. “Just move your lips and the result is set, as simple as when you convicted criminals back in the day. Sadly, I don’t take that. The Papal Chamber hasn’t released a statement yet. What are you so impatient over?”
“If you stop now, things can still be salvaged. You should know that you’ve already attacked a church and killed a reverent priest! We can let this go but if you take advantage of our kindness, Anglo will be unable to report to the Sacred City!” The priest raised his voice, “How will you end things at that time? Not even the royal family can save you!” He paused, his eyes growing meaningful. “Or do you think Anglo will still support you?”
Watson frowned. He sensed something strange and had a bad premonition. “Be straightforward, sir,” Watson said coldly. “Don’t just come with a mild letter of apology. Show me your true cards.”
The priest smiled mysteriously. “You’ll see,” he said.
Soon, someone hurried into the tavern. He bent over to whisper in Watson’s ears. His expression darkened immediately. “Are those his original words?” he asked.
“Yes.” The follower lowered his head. “He wants you to stop.”
“Is he crazy?” Watson raged, glaring at the man. “If Colt makes it to the Sacred City alive, the consequences will be endless. Doesn’t he understand?”
Stared at by those furious eyes, the follower paled. Watson quickly pushed down his anger and waved him away.
“How is it?” the priest asked with a half-smile.
Watson glared coldly. He pointed at the door. “You’ve won, sir. Scram now.” He said indifferently, “Colt will reach the Sacred City alive. Those are that idiot’s original words. I don’t know what you used to convince him but if that is his decision, I will follow it.”
Thus, the priest smiled. He rose and extended a hand. “Then, we shall cooperate happily.”
Without looking at him, Watson turned his wheelchair and left.
-
Ten minutes ago, Ye Qingxuan sat in a secret room and glared at Maxwell. “Why?” he asked.
Maxwell sighed. “St. George’s spear. The archbishop of the Ministry promised the royal family that he’ll retrieve the lost St. George’s spear from the ruins.”
“Just for that?” Ye Qingxuan sneered. “Maxwell, I see I didn’t wrong you. You are a qualified merchant. I’m impressed at how easily you reaped in the profits.”
“Ye Qingxuan, Anglo has never needed that weapon as much as now. We can only have the possibility to defeat Leviathan with it,” Maxwell said seriously. “This isn’t just for me! Do you know how many people will die without that weapon?”
“So you’ll overlook ‘justice’?” Ye Qingxuan gazed at him in disappointment. “You’ll just pretend Colt never did those things?”
“Ye Qingxuan…” Maxwell looked at him with troubled eyes. After a while, he sighed weakly. “I’m sorry to disappoint you. You only compete about beauty in a child’s world. In the adult word, we compete for dirtiness.
“I’m begging you, alright? So what if you let him go now? You are the sword bearer of Anglo, the inheritor of the sword that c
hooses the king, the next minister of Anglo! You’ll have so many chances to kill him! Why must you insist on it now?”
There was long, long silence.
Ye Qingxuan laughed. Lowering his head, he seemed to be laughing at himself. “I understand.” He closed his eyes. “Tell Watson to stop and let Colt return to the Sacred City.”
Maxwell managed a smile but there was no joy. There were so many things he wanted to say but didn’t. Finally, he rose and said, “I owe you.”
Without replying, Ye Qingxuan pointed at the door. Maxwell sighed and left.
The door closed. In the dim light, Ye Qingxuan closed his eyes.
-
“Please give me the courage to fly.”
Black rain fell from the sky. Colt saw a girl in a white dress walk in the rain. She dragged her small bag as if it contained her entire world. She sang in the rain and walked to somewhere far away.
“Test my heart, don’t say you regret it… The old house is shining, sighing…” The song lingered in his ears gently. However, in this silent world, it was terrifying. Colt reached out to stop her but he could not catch up.
“There is only silence for eternity…”
The torrent of rain isolated everything. The dark rain seemed to want to dye the entire world black and wash away all disguises. The world shook. The towering buildings became scarlet red. Dust fell from the majestic palace. The layers of carvings on the walls seemed like a web of blood vessels. They were breathing. The towers shook and laughed in the rain. The steps scraped like gnashing teeth. Bits of flesh and bone remained as if the beast did not finish eating.
“Colt, Colt, you’re finally here,” someone cheered happily with a smile. “We’ve been waiting for you.”
The crowd waiting in the rain cheered. They rushed over enthusiastically and waved. “Hurry! Come! We’ve been waiting!”
Colt looked at them in confusion. “Who…are you?”
“Colt, it’s me.” In the distance, a man waved and said gently, “Ah, you’ve forgotten me. I’m the friend who brought you into the Rock Institute.”