Silent Crown

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Silent Crown Page 513

by Feng Yue


  “How unbecoming. Have you lost the pride that a musician should have?” Paganini drew back his palm and tossed a box to him. “Take your things and scram! Don’t make me repeat myself again!”

  The box opened as it was tossed to him. A sliver of pure light could be seen from shining from within. The box contained an eye that had been sealed up. The eyeball seemed to have been transformed into a crystal. Countless reflections bounced off the crystallized body and seemed as if it contained all the secrets and power of this world.

  That was Charles’ eye. The power of God was sealed within it. It was the only one of its kind.

  “Why are you helping me?” Charles asked softly. “If I die, wouldn’t you have gotten what you wanted?”

  “Don’t think too highly of yourself, Charles.” Paganini stared at him indifferently. “What I want is to see God die, not you.

  “You are still far too unworthy.”

  Charles was stunned. He held on to his eye quickly and laughed bitterly. “Indeed. I am already such a failure at being an ordinary man. How can I still dream about changing the world?” He wore his shoes and coat. He looked swollen and ugly, like a round ball. He wore his hat and pushed the door open. Finally, he turned back and bade farewell, “See you again.”

  “No, this is goodbye forever.” Paganini’s back was facing him and his voice was cold. “After you reach Anglo, give up on those unrealistic dreams. Just live an honest life as an ordinary man and die an ordinary death. That will suit you more.”

  The sound of his footsteps grew faint and distant. He tumbled and fell. It was snowing outside and the sound of the crunching of snow underneath his feet grew faint over time.

  In the end, he didn’t stay. It’s disappointing yet there’s nothing bad about that either. Just like that, he shall live the rest of his life as a good-for-nothing. This is the only thing that you can do now.

  Paganini closed his eyes. The fire underneath the stove was extinguished by the gusts of wind outside the door.

  “You did something that was inconsequential, Paganini.” Wolf Flute was leaning against the frame of the door as he lowered his head and continued to smoke. “What happened? Your conscience was finally pricked?”

  “It’s probably something to do with musicians and our obsessive-compulsive disorders.” Paganini’s voice was calm. “All I’m thinking is that rather than leaving things dangling halfway, I might as well destroy him completely.”

  If only Charles was really able to become God. It was not the first time that he had thought about this before. But he had been chasing after God for his entire life, so if he was to find out that God would turn out to be such a joke, perhaps it was better to destroy it instead?

  It would never be a good thing for a human to possess those powers. It resulted in Charles being completely disappointed in the powers of God. He refused to become something similar, so he gradually transformed from the embryonic form of God into a mediocre and ordinary man.

  “Flesh and blood cannot inherit the kingdom of God, nor does the perishable inherit the imperishable…” Paganini chanted the verse from the Holy Bible. His eyes lowered. “I am not worthy, and so is he.”

  As such, it would be best for him to die somewhere as an ordinary man. If there was such a thing as fate, then this would be the most merciful ending for him.

  In the silence, Wolf Flute might have failed to accomplish his mission but neither did he chase after Charles nor attack Paganini out of anger. He merely lowered his head and stepped on the tobacco roll to extinguish it. “If only that’s the case,” he continued, “It’s too bad…”

  …

  It was late at night and the village was quiet. There was no sound whatsoever, except for the sound of footsteps in the snow. They sounded like there was serious trouble.

  Charles tried to run as fast as he could but all that he could do was to stumble along here and there. In the end, he fell down onto the snow and had to keep crawling forward out of desperation. He turned around to look behind him, only to see no one chasing after him. He seemed to hear a roar coming from somewhere far away but it was not clear. All he could hear was his own panting.

  The distance was so short yet it was so tiring. He was so tired that once he fell down onto the slush, he did not feel like getting up anymore. Perhaps this was for the best. He would just sleep and die quietly. There would be no pain.

  But the hallucination-like pain was spreading in his skull. It chased away his desire to sleep and forced him to get up once more. He would push on and continue running, only to fall down, then get up and run again. Stumbling, stumbling, stumbling.

  The melted snow brought down his body’s temperature and cold hallucination spread in his brain. It made him see that the lands were burning. The snow had melted and the flames were spreading across the entire village. It was burning everywhere. Children were screaming and crying in the flames. The adults were the same too. Very soon, they were all dead. All because of him. Because of him…

  He gritted his teeth and closed his eyes before screaming hoarsely. Those hallucinations were finally dispelled and he continued running. In the end, there was a heavy thud at the back of his head and he fell. Someone grabbed his hair and pressed him onto the ground forcefully. He was laughing gleefully. “I’ve caught you!”

  “How lucky. To think that I have gotten myself a big catch just by heading off somewhere to pee.” That man’s mouth cracked into a smile. His teeth were all yellow. He shouted into the distance, “Hey! Come over! He’s here! I caught him!” He removed his gloves and tried to use his stiff fingers to tie Charles up with his rope, only hear him making some noises.

  “Why…” It was Charles. He lowered his head and buried it in the slush, but he could not stop choking. “Oh, why…” He was weeping and sobbing like a weakling. He wanted to cry out loud, but he felt anxiety in his lungs. It was as if he had swallowed charcoal and was having difficulty breathing. The pain was spreading to his internal organs.

  It was rage that urged him to continue struggling and contorting his body. He would not stop even if he would risk breaking his arm. When he finally managed to get off the ground, he pushed the man down with all his might. It was like two children fighting with each other. He picked up a rock amongst the snow and smashed it against the man’s face with force.

  “Tell me,” he tried to growl with all his might but what came out of his mouth was like a whimper, “what have I done wrong! What exactly did I do wrong!

  “Who can tell me why?

  “Why do I have to die!”

  He was screaming at the top of his lungs. The ferocious expression on his face was completely covered by tears and snot and looked rather hilarious.

  The face, which was wearing an expression of shock, was completely smashed by the rock. It was contorted and an eye fell out of its broken eye socket, only to be smashed as well.

  “All I wanted was to make this world a better place…” Charles choked as he could not suppress his sorrow, no matter how hard he tried. “All I wanted… all I wanted… was to save all of you!”

  The rock, which was now stained with blood, rolled onto the ground. That man no longer made a sound.

  A flame lit up from a distance away and the sounds of shouting grew nearer. It was as if a few people were running in this direction. A signal flare was shot into the sky and exploded into hot and burning light before falling back down gradually. The light lit up Charles’ face.

  He pushed himself up and charged aimlessly into the woods. He would fall many times, only to get up after each time, as if he felt no pain. He ran towards the crossing. At the very least, he must leave this place.

  “Over here! Here!” At the crossing, there was a small boat that was about to leave the shore. Someone was waving to him. “Hurry up! They can’t delay any longer!”

  The rope had been loosened. That man was sitting at the side of the boat. He put his hands into the icy water to summon rapids. Charles sprinted as fast as he cou
ld. He ignored his own panting and the strange sound from behind him.

  Then, he saw it. The icy river turned red in color. A head had been separated from its neck and had fallen into the water. Then, the headless corpse on the boat followed suit and fell in as well. All that remained was a kukri that was stuck on the deck of the boat.

  A sliver of recurving glow had burst forth in an instant to cut off that man’s head cleanly. It even cut off the entire boat. The blade of the knife was still buzzing. Soon after, the music notes on the knife lit up and the power within the alchemy formation burst forth. A terrifying tremble began to spread and caused the entire boat, along with the knife, to collapse into dust. It fell into the river and melted into the mortar, which vanished soon after.

  Only Charles was left standing knee-deep in the icy water. In a state of panic and confusion, he turned around and looked behind him. Deep in the forest, a pair of dark-purple light glowed silently.

  What kind of creature would possess those eyes?

  They were like the gemstones of Hades as they were devoid of warmth and were tens of thousands of times colder than ice stream and cold wind. Amidst the deep sounds of footsteps, twigs and branches were being crushed. The purple-eyed griffin stood beneath the moonlight and stared at him.

  798 Funeral III

  The moonlight seemed to freeze everything.

  There was only the sound of panting.

  But soon the silence was broken.

  The purple-eyed griffin stared at its prey. A curved blade slipped out from the cuff and landed in the hand whose fingerprints had once been filled with chalk dust.

  The grip tightened.

  The blade whistled, just like the roar of a fierce griffin before a hunt.

  He stepped towards Charles step by step, slowly and steadily, as if he had to make each step precisely and carefully, leaving no gaps.

  The same slaughter had happened over and over again, leaving behind only a skill as natural and spontaneous as flowing water. He took no superfluous steps, walking forward coldly and solemnly.

  He was death.

  Death was slowly approaching.

  But Charles still stood firmly in place, staring at him, watching the familiar shadow coming towards him. His expression twitched back and forth. Sometimes it seemed like he was crying, sometimes it seemed like he was smiling.

  He didn’t know if it was fear or ecstasy.

  He felt like he was returning to his childhood, where every evening he would sit outside his door and wait for his only family member to come down the road.

  Sometimes he would bring a present, sometimes he would bring nothing.

  But just seeing his shadow would make him shout and jump for joy.

  Just him waving at him from afar… would make him shed tears.

  “You’re back, teacher?”

  The child would rush forward and reach out to hug him.

  Scrape! The sound of scraping steel burst out. It was like he had suddenly leaped forward in time, and the most critical scenes had been cut out, leaving everything scattered and broken.

  A blade hovered in the air.

  It was right in front of Charles.

  A blade that could pierce through metal and stone was frozen in the air. Fine notes lit up in the arrays on the edge of the blade by some invisible force, but they dimmed and snuffed out before that eye.

  At that moment, the silent crystal eye in Charles’s chest glowed with miraculous power and blocked the killing attack.

  Then all was once again silent.

  The blade fell to the ground, and the steel collided with the crushed ice, making a harsh sound.

  Then the smile broke.

  Fear and joy were mixed in his face, and in the end, there was only a hole that was difficult to call an expression.

  A fog rose from the purple-eyed griffin mask.

  It was like he was sighing.

  “I wanted this to be faster, Charles.” The old voice rang out from the mask. So familiar. It was like the hand holding the blade, calm and cruel. “At least that way it wouldn’t hurt you too much.”

  Charles looked down at the blade that had fallen at his feet. There was still a silky line on it, which was pure enough to interfere with the killing intent of the original material.

  The smell of blood was on the wind.

  This was the ultimate insight.

  So that’s how it was?

  Yes.

  “Have you come to kill me, teacher?” He nodded suddenly and studied the ferocious beast mask, wanting to see the face behind it. The first thing he felt was not fear, but an indescribable sense of absurdity, followed by a feeling of uncontrollable joy, like this was the best absurd drama.

  His seemingly eternal illusions were so comically shattered.

  He woke from his warm dream and stared at the cruel world before him. “Even you… don’t want me to live?” he whispered.

  The purple-eyed griffin was silent, saying nothing. He just raised his hand, and with the sound of scraping steel, two lines of sharp iron light condensed in his hand. Mottled rust drifted off the blade like scales, giving it a clear killing intent.

  Abraham advanced, step by step.

  This was the final answer, breaking all his luck and fantasies, and taking away the last bit of Charles’s courage and strength.

  It was as if there was a real phantom pain making havoc of his organs and destroying his lungs, making him bend over awkwardly, nearly falling on the ground. Tears fell as he choked.

  “If that’s the case, why did you bring me back?” Charles watched him come towards him, holding a blade, but he did not want to flee. “Why did you waste so many years on me? Shouldn’t you have let me die from the beginning? You didn’t need to rack your brain over how to raise a dead child. You didn’t have to lie to him to give him hope for the future. You didn’t need to let him have expectations for others. Since my life wasn’t good for this world, you shouldn’t have let me live.” He was kneeling on the ground, begging, choking with sobs, until in the end, he wailed hysterically, “Please tell me, teacher, why did you save me??!!”

  Like a beggar, he begged for Abraham to answer.

  Even a single sentence, an “involuntary” false revelation would have let him embrace death willingly and end this long torture.

  It would be a welcome relief.

  But from beginning to end no one answered him. There were only silence and merciless attacks.

  Say something, teacher, I beg you.

  I beg you, don’t kill me.

  I don’t care who it is…

  As long as it’s not you.

  As long as it’s not you…

  No one answered.

  Only the iron light fell and collided with the invisible barrier with a terrible scream.

  Even when he had lost all the will to resist, the eye still persistently protected his life. It was hot like aether burning in a state of overload.

  The layers of the barrier unfolded as they were violently shocked trying to block the griffin’s claws.

  One instant the iron light was broken, but in the next it reappeared. The terrible counter-shock was like nothing else, and it grew more and more cohesive.

  The aether’s quality changed!

  Then the screaming sound of the steel rang out again.

  The griffin was ferocious.

  Cold light glowed from its purple eyes.

  The iron light smashed forward, tearing through the sixteen layer barrier and tearing it aside like weeds. Eventually, the iron light tore off Charles’s face, leaving his hollow eye sockets broken and leaving a hideous gap.

  Blood burst forth.

  His once handsome face was torn apart as scarlet flowed over it, becoming painful and hideous. His sorrow was interrupted by severe pain. He raised his remaining eye, and it could not be said whether within it was despair or resentment. It was just empty.

  It was like an abyss.

  His bones grew painfully with a sound like
a stone growing. They pierced through his broken flesh, filling his empty eye socket. His flesh and blood were regrown, and in the end, only a bit of silver light like condensed iron was left.

  It was the residual iron light entangled in the wound.

  It was iron tears.

  Charles lifted his hand and made Abraham’s iron light stop in mid-air. The iron light that was formed by accumulated aether was essentially a formless blade formed by the innumerable thought lines formed by Bolero. After being infused with killing intent that interfered with its nature, it became a sharp blade.

  Countless “little destructions” overlapped in one place, forming a “huge destruction.”

  It was enough to wound a catastrophe and torture everything.

  Originally, it would have been enough to open up a small abrasion, and countless lines of thought would interfere with his nature and completely evaporate his body. But now, even though he had lost his divine power, Charles still had an undying nature that rivaled that of a god.

  Normal things could not kill him.

  They could only wake him up from his illusion of having been born a human.

  The crystal carved eye broke in his hand and dissipated into dust. It was replaced by the glow of the hollow eye.

  It was like the flame of the gods.

  It was a desolate flame of fury.

  A burning wind burst out of thin air with a heat that was hot enough to evaporate anything. It swept out in all directions, melting the ice and snow, evaporating the water and drying up the earth.

  Under the eye’s gaze, heaven and earth were turned into a furnace.

  Among the fire, the Son of God whispered softly.

  “Why is it you, teacher?”

  “You still like to say such weak things, Charles?” The griffin looked up at the iron wings that seemed to be burning. He finally said hoarsely, “Haven’t you made up your mind?”

  “I have.” Charles smiled self-deprecatingly as he stared at his teacher before him, his adoptive father. His enemy.

 

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