by Feng Yue
Cheers and praises came from afar, reverberating on the sea. Like thunder, they almost drowned the hisses and roars out.
“Dear all, join the battle, our counter-attack has just begun!” Ye Qingxuan’s voice rang out on the bridge of every ship. “We will not retreat in this war! Let us banish the demons from this region of the sea completely, to pay our respects to the souls who have died heroically in battle and the sacrifices in the past!”
He paused and declared resolutely, “Let us reclaim this country, reclaim Avalon!”
Countless people shouted fanatically in response. “Counterattack! Counterattack!” The roars and shouts voice echoed on the entire battlefield. Under the illumination of the holy emblem, bangs and roars sounded once more. The vast, mighty war resumed after a short break!
After a century, the fire of burning stakes was reignited in the dark night that was too long for one to see when it would end.
After a brief silence, the silhouettes of the Knights of the Round Table rose from Avalon and joined them on the violent battlefield.
As the Mountain of Nomadism advanced, the gigantic demons hidden in the deep sea were pulled out one by one and chopped up into tiny pieces. After the materials that could be utilized were extracted, the remains were mercilessly thrown into the purifying flames.
In the end, the ocean was almost covered by flames. Using demon carcasses as firewood, the flames danced in the hymn, outlining the scene of the purgatory of trial in the mortal world.
The battle lasted for the whole night.
…
It was a short night, but it felt like forever.
When the last giant monster of the deep sea was crushed by a cannonball from the Petitioner, and the dark rivers that the demons had gathered into were burned completely by the flames, the war finally came to an end, for the time being.
Everyone stood where they were, blank looks on their faces, and stared at the sea that was covered in blood and ashes. It was as if they had just awakened from a nightmare and didn’t know where they were.
“It has ended?”
“No more demons?”
“We… have won?”
“Victory!!!”
“Long live! Long live Anglo!!!”
The ecstasy of surviving a disaster and the glory of victory after a fierce battle blended together and became an impulsive feeling to tear up in joy. Be it on the decks, in the sky, or in the bridges of the ships, everyone cheered and hugged each other, bursting into tears, screaming and roaring.
Amid the hustle and bustle, in the commander’s seat, Ye Qingxuan took off his hat and put it on the table. He stretched tiredly and felt his whole body finally relaxing. Gazing at the city outside the porthole that re-lighted, I couldn’t help but smile.
“Return to the harbor.” He murmured softly, “Let’s go home.”
Avalon, I’m back.
…
After traversing through a long and narrow waterway, the sluice of the port which was covered in scratches slowly opened. The machinery rotated, making a sharp scraping noise.
In the turbulent waters, the Royal Navy, with scars all over, finally entered the harbor. They were met with dazzling lights. The crowds were surging and cheering wildly. No matter how hard the guards outside the port tried to block them, it was impossible to extinguish the enthusiasm and ecstasy.
“Long live Avalon!”
“Long live Avalon!”
“Long live Avalon!”
The cheers were like a tsunami. They no longer had to worry about being left behind in the sudden Great Retreat, or being separated from their family members, having to leave their homeland and embark on a long dark journey. The sudden great victory was a shot in the arm to the city that had almost suffocated under the lengthy torture, and the suffering people were full of anticipation for the future. The pitch black warship that had shown up out of the blue brought them hope.
The purifying musicians who opened up land in the World of Dark during the Pioneering Era a century ago had returned again, holding their flaming banners high. They came to the city at its darkest and most vulnerable moment, cast the demons into the flames and illuminated the dim, suffocating world once more.
At the foremost of the crowd, the nobles who had rushed to the scene from various agencies, or even the fleet of evacuation, were not necessarily feeling light-hearted.
The upper-class men, who got to know about the evacuation plan half a day ahead of the commoners, had carried out innumerable secret transactions in the very short period of time to obtain priority in the evacuation and fight for the last remaining resources. Some even ran through a fortune.
The authorities let it go unchecked, as the exhausted Lancelot was too tired to care anymore, and even went so far as to acquiesce in their setting-up of the government in exile.
The evacuation plan ended up being aborted, and the government in exile was nowhere to be seen of course.
Some people were slower in taking action, and had been wringing their hands in frustration or even despair, but felt relieved after the victory, smiling cheerfully and rejoicing at their fate. As for those were quick-handed, they had already boarded the boats a long time ago…
The boats were still here, but they meant nothing now. Although the fate of the city was still uncertain in the coming days, who could guarantee that there would be another suitable timing for evacuation?
In the sudden Great Retreat this time, the nobility and senior officials occupied as much as two-thirds of the fleet. Few of the remaining one-third of tickets fell into the hands of commoners but were priced astronomically, as the prices were driven up wildly due to high demand.
The grassroots were extremely disappointed with them.
The consultants didn’t even need to investigate further before they sighed and assured their employers that their credibility and image were presently at a new low, and that they were completely stuck in the Tacitus trap. Whatever they did would be seen as evil deeds.
If another evacuation was to be conducted in the future, then what they would face before the retreat would be an angry riot. At that time, it would be hard to say to whom the spots on the ships would belong to.
Therefore, regarding this savior who had shown up out of the blue, quite a number of people only felt a strong sense of bitterness. They had zero gratitude for him, and even felt a tinge of hatred, despite it being well hidden.
In the complicated looks and hushed conversations of the nobles, the crowd surged. Lead by a Grand Knight and escorted by the garrison, two black carriages drove to the port. One bore the emblem of the Church and was from Westminster Abbey. The door opened, and with the help of the attendants, Mephistopheles, the archbishop who had been blind for many years, got off. The other was even more low-key and bore no emblem.
A pale middle-aged man got out from the carriage. He wore a black formal-looking dress suit, but a sharp-eyed person could see the wrinkles on the corner of his blazer, which clearly had not been changed for many days.
The dress suit was thicker than ordinary. It had thick fur sewn into it and was fairly warm, but his face showed no ruddiness. Instead, he covered his mouth with a handkerchief and coughed so hard that it felt like his heart and lungs would be torn.
A number of years ago, he was badly hurt by an assassin when he was protecting the Empress, and his wound never healed properly. His lung disease had already been determined as incurable.
“Marquis Lancelot…” The soft discussion in the crowd paused. Everyone looked at the figure standing in front and couldn’t help but stop talking.
At this moment, the only remaining backbone of Avalon, the actual ruler of the Kingdom of Anglo, the leader of the Privy Council—Lancelot, showed up here alone, without even bringing any attendants along.
He only nodded at Archbishop Mephistopheles, but said nothing and cast his gaze on the black warship entering the port slowly.
He didn’t speak a word.
565 Return
When the black warship docked, the entire port fell silent. Everyone gazed quietly at the sharp silhouette that it cast in the dim light. A strong wind with a strong stinking smell blew from afar.
Lancelot covered his mouth and coughed restrainedly. After a good while, he wiped off the blood between his fingers with a handkerchief.
A low sigh came from beside him. Mephistopheles reached out and handed him a small yet exquisite hand warmer. Lancelot did not refuse. As he held the hand warmer, his face turned slightly more rosy.
“How much longer can you stay outdoors?” Mephistopheles’ blind eyes seemed to fall on his chest and look past his clothes at the lungs plagued by an old illness. “I believe that the doctor has told you not to come out.”
“There are always exceptions to everything.” Lancelot shook his head and stared at the silent dark shadow, murmuring softly, “I really really want to see him.”
“Lancelot, so does everyone else who is here.” The murky pupils of Mephistopheles which had no light in them looked forward, but it seemed as if everything was within his observation.
The pair of blind eyes overlooked the crowd, looking at the civilians, nobles, businessmen, and soldiers, distinguishing their faces one by one as if he could see their thoughts. He slowly spoke:
“Some come here out of respect.
“Some come here to display their stance.
“Some come here to put on a show…”
He paused, his blind eyes fixed on the outermost of the port, the surging crowd stretching all the way to the end of the road, and a shimmer of awe and respect appeared in his murky pupils.
“And some come here to honor the legend.”
At that moment, a deep, low sound rang out. At first, it was the deep reverberation of the creaks from the hinges of steel armor, followed by the sonorous echoes of iron boots stepping on the deck. Hundreds of people gathered into a regiment and assembled into arrays. As they moved forward, the sounds evolved into magnificent roars.
The dead silent seawater was stirred by the sounds, forming waves. The cold sea breeze swept past, blowing at those who were trying hard to put on a smile until their faces turned pale.
The people who made their way to the front, wanting to make a good impression and display goodwill at the earliest time possible, were stunned. They paused where they were in the sound, and could not help but want to back away. Because in the glow of the lanterns, the bright red banners were raised once again. The holy emblem fluttered in the wind and advanced. Two rows of armored knights, who were stained black by the blood of the demons, walked out of the slowly opening door. Under the illumination of the light, a cold glint reflected off the steel helmets in a grotesque fashion.
The clergymen, who were had such burly builds that they looked inhuman, held the bright red banners high and lead the way. They wore chain hoods, and their robes were covered in heavy iron armor. As they marched forward slowly, the armor clanked, creating sonorous echoes.
The clergymen leading the way marched forward in a straight line. As if they did not see the people welcoming them approaching, their speed did not slow down, causing the enthusiastic smiles on the faces around them to become stiff and unsustainable.
The people who had approached backed away clumsily, turning the warm, welcoming atmosphere into a silent and awkward one.
“What is going on?” Several representatives of aristocrats wiped cold sweat from their brows and exchanged glances. Someone was chosen and reluctantly gathered up enough courage approach the clergyman leading the way. But the advancing procession showed no signs of stopping, continuing forward slowly. The representative standing in their way was stunned, his face becoming whiter and whiter. Finally, the footsteps stopped in front of him.
The clergyman holding the banner high lowered his eyes and seemed to be sizing him up. Under the illumination of the dim light, the burly clergyman cast a thick, dark shadow, covering the pale face of the representative, who couldn’t help but swallow hard and forced out a smile.
The representative said, “I am the concertmaster of Avalon…”
“Thou shalt bow,” a hoarse voice said, interrupting him.
In the clergyman’s blurred outline, against the light, it seemed that a cold and indifferent gaze was cast downwards, with an iron-like majesticness. Under the gaze, he could hardly maintain the smile on his face, and cold sweat seeped from his forehead. He averted his gaze, not daring to look at the pair of eyes anymore.
The clergyman withdrew his gaze and declared it coldly, “Fear God.”
In the dead silence of the cold wind, only the banner with the holy emblem on it was making a fluttering sound.
Faint footsteps sounded from a distance. Gazed upon by everyone, the thin figure walked out of the darkness, stepped on the road paved by the purifiers and entered the area illuminated by dim light.
In the dead silence, even the sounds of breathing had disappeared. Only faint footsteps echoed.
In the clanking of steel, the armored knights went down on one knee and lowered their heads as a sign of respect to the rulers. Surrounded by the clergymen, the thin young man stepped off the warship and set foot on the port. In the cold wind, he breathed into his palms and rubbed his hands, seemingly not used to the cold of winter.
A stole embroidered with black gold was draped over his shoulders and covered part of the vestment he was wearing. It was not of a crimson red color favored by Archbishops but of a deep purple.
Under the illumination of glow coming from the swaying lantern, his silver hair, blown by the wind, resembled burning mercury. In the silence, he stood on the shore and gazed at the city that he hadn’t returned to for quite some time. He had only bid it farewell for the short span of four months, yet everything had become completely different.
A lot of things had changed.
Everything of the past had disappeared.
But its essence still remained the same.
Avalon…
“I’m finally back,” Ye Qingxuan murmured softly. Under the fluttering, bright red holy emblem, he overlooked the crowd and raised his hand, like the emperor who arrived here back then, proclaiming the truth to mortals.
He declared, “God bless Anglo.”
Tsunami-like cheers sounded. The crowd surged like boiling water. Even the earth trembled from being stepped on chaotically by countless people. Dust flew up, whirling in the air, and tremored in their shouts.
The fanatical crowd stared at the emblem and the young man’s figure. Waving their arms, they swarmed forward, trying, again and again, to enter the cordoned area regardless of the attempts by the guards outside to block them. Countless people held the lanterns in their hands up, waving their arms, and shouted at Ye Qingxuan, praising him with all the words they know.
As Ye Qingxuan advanced, the banner with the sacred emblem on it was held high in the gale, and the believers became more and more fanatical, throwing themselves to the ground at the savior in front of them. The disorganized shouts gradually overlapped and merged into one, saying the same words with the same voice.
“Hand of God!” The crowd looked up at the figure of Ye Qingxuan and praised him fanatically, “Hand of God!”
“Hand of God!!!” As the shouts of countless people gathered to a roar, it shook the world.
It was like the quiet city was humming in a low tone. As if its true master had finally arrived, it respectfully presented everything in its possession, humbly imploring the arriver to bestow salvation upon it.
In the deafening shouts, the people standing in front gazed at each other embarrassedly, their expressions change slightly. Despite obviously trying to remain calm, they could not hide the shock and fear emerging from the bottom of their eyes.
It wasn’t that they were unclear about Ye Qingxuan’s identity and his past. At the moment of Ye Qingxuan’s return, the information of his past was presented to countless people.
In the beginning, they thought of uniting to control
such a powerful force. After that, when they saw how powerful he was, they eagerly wanted to establish good connections with the distinguished young man that had returned. But now, they didn’t even have the courage to stay here and introduce themselves.
At that moment, they finally understood that the newcomers were not loyal soldiers, nor naive heroes, nor impressionable politicians who could be persuaded with benefits and compromises.
The clergyman told them, “Thou shalt bow and fear God.”
Under the deep purple vestment and the stole symbolizing justice, he was not the young man they had expected, but the archbishop sanctioned by the Sacred City, the Grand Inquisitor who had re-established the Religious Court of Inquiry, the Hand of God who had brought iron and fire with him!
All mortals intoxicated with power and desire were like dust in his eyes.
“Another a madman,” someone whispered.
…
“Lancelot, haven’t you understood?” Mephistopheles turned back and looked at the dismayed Lancelot. He said, “Avalon has changed, old friend, and so has the world. He is no longer the child you could protect. I know what you’re thinking, but you can’t change him. “
Lancelot lowered his eyes and said nothing.
In the cheers of the crowd, Ye Qingxuan walked forward and smiled as he looked at the old archbishop in front of him. “Archbishop Mephistopheles, it’s good to see you so well.” Out of habit, he wanted to put his hand over his heart and bow, but just as he lifted his hand, he was stopped by Mephistopheles.
The murky blind eyes rose as if the archbishop was looking at a young man in front of him. After a good while, he smiled with a tinge of emotion.
“You are already the Hand of Gods, Archbishop, there’s no need to bow to me.” As he spoke, Mephistopheles removed the signet ring, which was a token of power, from his index finger, and carefully put the ring on Ye Qingxuan’s right hand. Finally, he bent down and drew the young man’s right hand to his forehead, which touched the signet ring gently.
“I’m already old.” He smiled as if he had unloaded a burden. “From now on, all matters in the Archdiocese of Anglo will be completely under your jurisdiction.”
