by Feng Yue
“Hadn’t we spent the first half of our lives there? There is no death or life there…There’s nothing in the Dark World, other than darkness. So, I’m sorry, Seton. I want to stay here.” Softly, he said, “There’s still something here that I must do.”
Seton was stunned. He saw the sharpness in Abraham’s eyes disappear. Dim light fell onto his face, illuminating the wrinkles. He had returned to the submissive man. Insipid, wooden, and slow, he was as harmless and as average as a fallen leaf on the ground.
He often rambled when he spoke. Now, his voice was slow and gentle. “You know, Seton, I have a really troublesome kid. When he was little, he often had nightmares and would cry softly when he woke up. He’d get scared when I wasn’t around. I raised him and now, he’s still troublesome and often gets beat up.
“Now, I have a smart student. He has white hair and is stubborn and brave when deciding his future. He likes to cause trouble too. I have another student. She’s a girl who likes to cut class and go play. She’s innocent, cute, and carefree. She’s going to be a beauty when she grows up. But she likes to cause trouble too.
“To be honest, they’re all children that make me feel helpless and worried, but when they call me ‘professor,’ I feel happy.” He looked up at Seton and asked quietly, “What will they do if I leave? Who will take care of them…”
“But…” Seton stared at him, unable to speak. “But…”
Abraham shook his head and did not say anything else. And so, it was a long silence.
Finally, the time-telling bell rang in the distance, outside on the street, and resounded through the city. The sun had traveled across the sky without either realizing and descended into the ocean. The sun had set.
-
“We haven’t met in such a long time and things turned out unhappily. I guess I really don’t know how to talk,” Abraham said. “I’m sorry, but I must go. It’s almost time for class.”
Speaking of class, he could not help but chuckle. The chuckle and smile were filled with substantial happiness, as if he had finally found a home. Seeing the smile, Seton remained silent. There was nothing more he could say.
Abraham rose. Giving one last glance at Seton, he turned to leave. But for some reason, he stopped after two steps.
“Seton, you have to look forward. You can’t live in the past.” He bid farewell quietly, not daring to look back. “The Dragon Riders…are something eliminated by time.”
The door closed. All was silent.
Seton stared blankly in the direction Abraham had gone. He stared at the door, as if he was waiting for Abraham to return. But the figure did not turn back, even after a long time. It was as if he had disappeared forever.
After a long, long time, Seton finally understood something. He hung his head listlessly and his shoulders shook.
Everyone in the café turned in shock to look at the lonely figure in the corner—the burly beastly man was crying? He was crying like a child. Beasts would cry too, when they realized that they had nowhere to return to.
175 The Cursed Blood
The evening bells came from the direction of the Westminster Palace. The glow of the sunset fell from the sky and cascaded over the white city, making the royal palace shine majestically. Light passed through the narrow, colorful window and dimmed.
The dim light fell on Hermes’s face. Sitting on the chair, he looked at the intricate patterns on the stained glass in boredom. Behind him was a heavy curtain.
Compared to the splendor of the royal palace, this room was too simple and too clean. There was not even the slightest bit of décor. The smell of medicine hung heavily in the air. A woman’s hoarse cough sounded faintly behind the curtain, making the room seem like a hospital; however, this was not a hospital room, but the bedchamber of the Queen.
-
Through the curtain, one could vaguely see a black iron coffin shaking crazily. The iron coffin was shaped like a gigantic infant. It had complete facial features and limbs. It seemed that something strange was sealed inside of it, and it emitted a strong smell of blood.
Some monks with gloomy expressions stood around the coffin. They were dressed in white, and were bald and barefoot, standing in a pool of blood. They took sharp iron thorns from their assistants and nailed them into the prepared holes on the coffin with expertise and cruelty. The thorns pierced into the living creature inside, digging into the bone.
The coffin trembled wildly as each nail was put in. The woman imprisoned inside screamed painfully with a hoarse voice. Blood spilled out from the holes endlessly, and dyed the monks’ white robes and hands black.
Yes, it was black. The sticky black blood gathered beneath the iron coffin and meandered along the reserved grooves before finally dropping into a silver urn.
“Enough.” During the long ordeal, Hermes suddenly spoke up, making the monks pause.
Someone carefully lifted the copper kettle from the stove. Some sort of light golden liquid boiled inside quietly. It flashed with red light as if it was melted iron. The burning ‘melted iron’ spilled out as the copper kettle was poured. It flowed through the coffin into the mouth of the woman. Gulping sounds could be heard from the coffin. They were full of greed.
The long nails stabbed into the coffin shook as they were forced out by the power brewing inside. The nails fell on the ground one by one, making crisp and heart-stopping sounds. Finally, the ‘melted iron’ had all been drained into that mouth. Not a drop remained.
The monks collected the long nails and tools, then silently retreated and disappeared into the darkness. The only sound in the stillness was the heavy pants from inside the iron coffin.
“More.” In the iron coffin, the woman’s hoarse voice came again, “I need more…”
“It is beyond the limit, Your Majesty.” Hermes shook his head. “If we add more, even the Red Dragon’s blood vessels would break down. The effect of the potion is getting worse, and if the guys at the Research Institute still can’t find a new way, it’ll be hard to maintain this situation, let alone find a cure.”
“…It is because the curse is getting stronger,” the hoarse voice said. “It’s getting stronger and stronger. I won’t be able to suppress it soon.”
“Yes, Avalon’s Shadow is calling. It’ll wake soon. That’s why the perception of the curse is intensifying,” Hermes said. “Your Majesty, you should’ve known long ago that there is no cure. Unless the curse is eradicated, it’ll always haunt the descendants of the royal family. You have to pay for what you’ve done.”
The woman in the coffin was silent for a long time. Then the hoarse voice asked softly, “How much longer do I have?”
“Five years is the maximum. Then, you will die in pain and madness as Arthur did. Or in one year, you will die in your sleep as the Prince of the Thames did…” Grimly and bluntly, Hermes continued, “If I may say, the most important thing for you now is to choose an heir since the crown prince is a retard…True, he didn’t inherit the curse, but if he inherits the throne, the entire country will be cursed, rather than the royal family.”
Faced with such blasphemy, the Queen was not angry. Instead, she pondered and asked, “How about the crown princess?”
“Her Highness Mary?” Hermes thought for a while and nodded. “She could be considered, but her cursed blood is no less than yours. You’re the one on the throne, but I’m afraid that she’s been affected too. I’ve heard stories about her since five years ago.”
“…” The Queen was silent and sighed softly after a long time. “When will the humiliation of the past generations be cleared? I’ve given so much. Isn’t it enough? “
“Because everything you’ve done has been useless.” Hermes’s voice became cruel. “Whether it’s the secret research that the Royal Research Institute is doing, or the purification technology for the Eastern Dragon Bloodlines, they are all in vain. These things can’t solve the core of the problem at all.
“That’s why you let the parliament study taboo techn
ology freely, and let them explore the ‘Blood Path,’ right? Unfortunately, it’s impossible to reverse the situation with these things. Even if they succeed, they’ll only worsen the outcome.”
After a long silence, the Queen in the iron coffin sighed. “Is Anglo doomed?”
“Perhaps. But, Your Majesty, you have another choice.” Hermes raised his eyes and smiled meaningfully. “Why don’t you try to trust me? I am the greatest artist, alchemist, composer, and musician in the world. This curse is a desperate situation, but if the royal family is willing to let me study it, there might be a way.”
These words seemed like a frivolous joke, but everyone knew that the trader would never lie. If he said he could solve it, then he was certainly able to solve it. If he said there was a way, then there must be a way. He seemed to be able to do everything in the world, as long as one paid the price…
If these words were heard by other people in desperate situations, they would have definitely been ecstatic and see it as a glimmer of light in the darkness, as their last lifeline. But the Queen did not refuse or agree. She did not have even the smallest bit of joy in her expression. Instead, she fell silent. Fury exuded from the silence. It was murderous!
“Hermes, have I not tolerated you enough?” she asked in a cold voice. “Do not provoke the limits of the royal family, and do not do unnecessary things! Letting you live in this country is already the limit. It’s been so many years. Don’t you understand? No matter what you do, no matter where you are, all you make is chaos and destruction.”
“Oh, that really hurts me.” Hermes sighed. “Have I gone from your good friend to a prop? Passion is so fragile. Arthur deserved to…”
The one behind the curtain was silent, but the smell of blood was full of murderous wrath.
Hermes, feeling the sting of the murderous intent, revealed a respectful expression. “Rest assured, Your Majesty, I’ll keep my promise. All these years, I’ve never done anything, right?”
“Good, because you don’t have to do anything, Hermes. There’s no need for you to be here either,” the Queen said coldly. “Don’t you like watching? Sit there and be quiet. That’s all you need to do.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.” Hermes bowed, and the corners of his lips curled into a wistful smile. “As I witnessed the beginning from Arthur, I will witness the end from you.”
-
In the long corridor, the door to the bedchamber opened silently, and Hermes exited. He seemed to be in a good mood, but he was always like this—a frivolous expression, cheerful gait, and a strange, elusive smile.
Just behind the door, an old man stood near the wall, as if waiting for the Queen’s summon. When Hermes saw the old man, he stopped and smiled more warmly.
“Ah, I didn’t expect you, old guy. Long time no see.” Hermes studied at the old man before him. “You haven’t died yet?”
“I’m old but vigorous.” The man known as the Shaman glanced at him. “Also, I’m not the one Ye Lanzhou referred to as ‘old guy,’ Hermes.”
“Oh, that’s why I wish you would die soon. Two of men sharing a nickname is as shameful as wearing the same pair of trousers.” Hermes looked expectantly at the Shaman. “Please, hurry up and die. Deal?”
The Shaman just shook his head. “Sorry, I’ve recently learned from someone that life is precious, so I refuse.”
“That’s okay. You don’t have much longer to live anyway.” Hermes stretched out his hand and carefully fixed the Shaman’s collar for him. Finally, Hermes patted him on the shoulder and gently comforted him, “The life of trash is hard. Enjoy the rest of your life, for, after death, there is no more joy to speak of.”
The Shaman was silent but Hermes chuckled. Humming, he turned away, disappearing at the end of the corridor.
-
After a long while, the door opened again. The Shaman entered in silence, lifted the curtain, tread over the dried blood on the ground and approached, kneeling one knee. Facing the iron coffin, he lowered his head.
“Long time no see. I thought you had really gone.” A hoarse sigh came from the coffin.
The Shaman shook his head. “Avalon is here. How can I leave? I will never leave you, Your Majesty.”
And so, the hoarse voice in the iron coffin laughed in pleasure. “Hearing such heartfelt words of love as an old woman feels really good. It’s as if I’ve returned to my younger days.”
“You are beautiful as ever.” The Shaman stared at the iron coffin as if his vision had penetrated the hideous ridges and fell upon that gloomy face.
“Don’t say such sad words.” The Queen’s voice had an undertone of fatigue. “’You’ve appeared with this look again. Do you have good news for me?”
“Yes, Your Majesty.” The Shaman whispered, “From now on, all of Avalon is in your hands!”
176 Nibelungenlied
Late at night, the midnight bell dissipated in the sky above the Sacred City. The main hall was in darkness. The pillars rose as if extending into the darkness. Small spots of silver light hung in the air and shone like stars. Sparks flew when they crashed against each other. It was as if the entire starry sky was hidden inside the hall.
An old man clad in a red priestly robe sat under the starry sky. He raised his head, watching the shining stars intently, staring at the dazzling Milky Way. This was the reflection of the Aether Sea that represented the resounding power between the skies and earth.
Each star represented a Resonance level musician. Each crash represented a ground-shaking battle and fight. The light from the countless aether illuminated the hall. Stars filled the sky.
Those that had not broken past the Barrier of Knowledge had no right to be included. Resonance musicians were in the lowest, dimmest section. The starry sky was ordered from high to low and divided into nine levels.
At the highest point, three stars shone like the sun in the dark starriness. Those lights were the scepters of the three kings, Bach, Beethoven, and Mozart. For centuries, they fought the darkness and illuminated the world. They had announced the end of the Dark Ages and the arrival of the Golden Age.
Like blazing suns in the sky, they glowed day and night. There was endless darkness outside their darkness. That was the Dark World—the dark territory that humanity had not yet and could not enter.
As time passed, the old monk in a red robe sat in the darkness, focused on meditating and pondering. Until the clanging of metal boots on the stone ground rang out in the distance.
The old monk was startled from his thoughts. He could not help but yawn and ask quietly, “It’s so late. Who would come?”
“It is Father Bann of the Knights Templar. You’ll see him in three minutes,” a mature yet gentle voice answered. “Bishop Albert, you should tidy up. If you meet a knight from the Knights Templar like this, you might lose credibility and prestige.”
“Ah, here again.” The corners of Bishop Albert’s mouth twitched. He raised his sleeve to wipe the saliva from his beard. “This is okay. We’re both servants of God, no need to worry about too much. And anyway, what prestige does an old guy like me have before the Knights Templar that represents the power of God?”
Soon, the distant figure neared. His old armor reflected the starlight, glowing with a cold shine.
“Bishop Albert.” He saluted to the old bishop gravely and then looked up at the dome overhead. “Your Majesty, Nibelungenlied, long time no see.”
“We meet again, Father Bann,” a gentle voice came from above. “We meet again. I have already sent the new robe to your home. Tomorrow is your promotion ceremony. You should rest earlier tonight.”
“Thank you for your reminder. I will do it,” Bann nodded.
Albert gazed at Bann’s forever-emotionless face and could not help but sigh. “I always feel like I can’t breathe when I’m with you serious people. You should smile some more, Bann.”
“I will take note of that.” Bann was still emotionless.
“…Never mind, you just keep doing that.” Alb
ert shook his head helplessly. He lifted a hand to move the starry sky and asked, “You’ve just returned from the Armageddon Defense Line and tomorrow is your big day. Why are you here at midnight instead of sleeping? You want to talk to an old guy like me?”
“No,” Bann replied. “I just came to look.”
“…Has anyone told you that you don’t know how to hold a conversation?”
“Yes.” Bann nodded. “Many.”
Albert suddenly felt weak. It was so tiring to communicate with someone like this guy. “Then look around. I’ll keep observing.” He stopped talking and raised a finger, guiding the starry sky down. He zoomed into a certain point and retrieved the records with experience. One could see time turn back and stop somewhere.
Before Albert, the stars shook violently. Flash after flash burst out. Those flashes were blood-red and filled with an ominous aura. There was the vague mark of an eye within it.
“What is this?” Bann asked with furrowed brows. Satan?”
“Yes, it’s the mark left behind by Hyakume,” Albert said. “Those men will do something big again in recent days. I’m afraid they’ll need the Knights Templar to take care of the mess in the end.”
Bann studied the distribution of the stares and compared it to the map in his heart. His expression darkened. “Where?”
“Avalon,” Albert stated. “The source of all evil in Anglo. It’s getting messier these days.”
Bann seemed to think of something, his expression darkened even more. There seemed to be thunderstorms in his eyes. “Are there more detailed records?” he asked.
“If there is, then I wouldn’t be squatting here analyzing everything at midnight.” Albert scratched his chin, messing up his beard. “Look, here’s the recorded image of last night.” He pointed at the wavering sky and the streaks of light that flashed, extinguished and disappeared.
