by Feng Yue
Despite not possessing any temperature, it brought death.
After robbing one of all life and music theory, only ashes would be left scattered on the ground.
Mable grabbed a handful of white powder from the pocket on her. It was the ashes produced by incinerating human bones. She casually flicked it a couple of times.
A fiery glow was attached to the ghastly white ashes. In the blink of an eye, amid the rumbling melody, the ashes proliferated rapidly. The dust particles connected themselves to each other, turning into white bones, and the bones grew in the fire, drawing strong vitality from it.
First, it was the bones. Fasciae and flesh followed shortly. Finally, the flames turned into blood and coursed through the body consisting of ashes. The musician who had just died tragically in the flames was thus revived with such a strange appearance.
The eyes showed no trace of consciousness anymore, only a dim glow as the Symphony of Predestination operated.
The fire of Nirvana stripped its victim of life and music, then used the ashes as a foundation. Before the enemy’s Symphony of Predestination dissipated, it was filled into a new body once more, creating a perfect phantom beast. It killed a person, then resurrected another person. After losing an enemy, the controller of the fire would have one more puppet to control.
Such a technique of borrowing a chicken to lay eggs made everyone on the scene shudder. Although it had all sorts of harsh restrictions, under the strengthening of the Chapter of the Golden Victory, Mabel’s ability more than sufficed to keep it going even for the span of one night.
“I’ll leave the rest to you,” she said.
Ye Qingxuan nodded, and returned his gaze to the old nun, looking at her cracked skin, and the scorching brilliance bursting forth from her body under the black habit.
“Next, it’s time to solve your problem!”
Bang! The staff of fate tapped on the ground, and it was as if the Ocean-Pacifying Magical Pillar [2] had been cast into a sea with frenzied waves of hundreds of thousands of feet high. The aftermath dissipated, revealing the original appearance of Schubert’s scepter.
Dim moonlight rose as Ye Qingxuan directed the masters’ Symphonies of Predestination, blocking any room for the scepter to operate and suppressing the self-destructing operation.
Thus, next came the question…
How could one stop a saint from committing suicide?
[1] In Chinese culture, the seven orifices are the eyes, the ears, the nostrils, and the mouth.
[2] It is a magical object described in A Journey to the West, one of the Four Classic Novels in Chinese.
654 A Good Man
The sky of the Ultimate had been lit up. The music theory of Scepter was produced from within, and just its aftermath alone was enough to turn the pitch-black sky into a turbulent ocean. All of the musicians were rudely awoken and they all began to look up.
“What a crowd.” Naberius was standing on the tip of the broken clock tower as he looked towards the south. “What a pity that we can’t join in something as big as this. Can’t we just go closer?”
The androgynous youth stood behind him quietly. Upon hearing what Naberius said, he shook his head. “For your safety, this is the furthest we can go.”
“They can kill me?” Naberius asked.
“Not those pathetic Scepters. It’s the Saint.” Paganini smiled coldly. “The Church has used the same trick even after so many years. Schubert did not have a successor, and no one could inherit his talent anyway, so this was the only way. Sacrificing him in exchange for the power of the Ultimate is simple and worthwhile but Schubert’s music theory must have been embedded with regulations in its deeper levels. If she senses your Changing Music Theory, she will definitely try to drag you along with her self-implosion. Since she is going to die anyway, why won’t she use it to serve an even greater good for the Church?”
Naberius remained silent as he imagined how a saint would hugging him before self-imploding. He could not help but shudder. “They are really a bunch of lunatics.”
“Whoever said otherwise?” Paganini laughed. “The servants of the God are crazier than the fallen. Doesn’t that make sense?”
“After so many days, has that Chief Inquisitor finally given up?” In the north, the second Prince looked towards the sky with a teasing look in his eyes. “Personally sacrificing a saint to the Ultimate should allow him to break away from the restrictions of the Church and become a Scepter straightaway right?”
“Not necessarily.” Beside him, an old and frail musician was fiddling with a fender in his hands. With a penknife in hand, he began to carve wedge-shaped music notes on the dry surface of the fender. After brushing off the carvings, he threw the fender to one side. Beside him was a small mountain of fenders. The old musician reached out his hands, and very soon, the mud began to tremble and water evaporated as a brand new piece of fender was formed in his hands. He was fully engrossed in his carving as if he could care less about the commotion that was taking place somewhere else.
The second Prince was stunned for a while when he heard a different opinion. He looked at the old musician respectfully and asked, “So what do you think?”
Although he was the second prince, he was in no position to flaunt his status in front of this elder. This elder was someone that his mother’s family had designated to be there for the second prince to depend on if necessary. Even if he was to become the emperor in the future, he was still obliged to seek advice and support from this elder. 40 years ago, this elder was already a scepter musician of Asgard. Before the previous Emperor had passed away, the elder had served as an advisor. What was so special about him was that he was someone, who was purely from the School of Revelation, that had managed to become a Scepter. He was wise and had great foresight so the second Prince had to listen to his opinions on many matters.
“It’s very simple. Haven’t you realized that he does not lack power?” The old musician said, “He does not lack power nor reputation or money. He did not even lack status. If you think about it, how many things does he have that would leave plenty of people feeling envious? Your opponent is someone who is not inferior to you in any way. No, in fact, if he was in your position, he probably would already have defeated your elder brother and become the Emperor of Asgard. In this aspect, you have to learn from him.”
The second prince frowned when he heard this, as his eyes revealed displeasure. Nevertheless, he did not say anything. The old musician shook his head. He knew that he had triggered some resentment in the second prince, so he would have to explain to the latter more tactfully. “Weakness is only temporal in the Ultimate. It is not worth it to sacrifice a lot in exchange for power in the short run. This Chief Inquisitor has very long-term goals. If he killed a saint, he would only become a Scepter. Do you think he really cares about becoming a Scepter? As long as he is in Anglo and continues to be boosted by the Chapter of the Golden Victory, he will be able to gain power that is comparable to a catastrophe.”
“At the end of the day, that is still an external force that can be relied on,” the second prince said.
The old musician glanced at him. “Would you be in a hurry to become a Scepter?”
Everything became clear to the second Prince once he asked this question.
Would he be in a hurry? After achieving resonance with Odin, he was now almost the equivalent of a demi-God. His future was so bright that becoming a Scepter should only be a mere stepping stone. That Chief Inquisitor was also in the same situation as him. No, in fact, he had even more options. Regardless if he chose to head to the East to embark on the Path of the Deva, or to inherit the music theory and holy name of Haydn, they were both incredible options that could only lead to bright futures. He did not even need to depend on anyone else. Based on his talent alone, becoming a Scepter was only a matter of time. Sacred City might have stopped him for now, but they would not be able to stop him forever.
“This is why he is not in a hurry,” the
old musician said calmly. “To him, a dead saint is far less useful than one that is alive. In your opinion, what do you think is his trump card?”
The second prince pondered for a long time before raising his head. “The Religious Court of Inquiry?”
“Close.” The old musician nodded. “The Religious Court of Inquiry is just a façade. In order for it to be fully filled, they will need more than ten year’s time even with the capabilities of Anglo. It may be powerful in the future, but right now, it cannot be relied on. The thing that troubles most of his enemies is his title.”
“Chief Inquisitor?” Realization dawned on the second prince.
“That’s right.” The old musician said calmly, “This must be what the College of Cardinals regrets the most. Initially, their intention was to maximize resources and discard the things they didn’t need by putting the blame onto them, but they must not have expected their plan to come back and haunt them. They never considered the possibility that the Chief Inquisitor could be a lunatic. His nickname is ‘God’s Hand’ and he possesses the Staff of Fate, both of which justify his actions as fair and righteous. In other words, all who stood against him will be considered heretics. Within this short period of time, before the Sacred City turns against him, he is basically free to do anything he wants. With such a convenient title, why would he kill a saint in front of so many people and give them something to use against him? Besides, even if he became a Scepter in the Ultimate, the Church may still have a way to deal with him. Therefore, it may seem as if he has gained by becoming a Scepter but it will eventually only serve as a burden that will cause him to lose the right to carry out social justice. On the other hand, if he can keep the saint alive, the latter will be like a hen that can lay golden eggs. Besides…” The old musician paused for a while before laughing self-deprecatingly. There was a bitter expression on his face.
“What is it?” The second prince asked.
The old musician sighed softly. “Besides, no matter how I see it and no matter how critical I try to be, this Chief Inquisitor… is just a good man.”
The second Prince was silent. This must be the most ridiculous joke in the world yet it was true. Every one of the same status as him understood that the most priceless thing in this world was not power or authority… it was conscience.
Conscience might cause one to lose opportunities or pay heavy prices but he did not seem to care. Everyone knew that he was willing to kill for a little girl in front of the doors of Sacred City. By doing so, he had practically provoked every organization in the Sacred City and he was not afraid to make everyone his enemy. It might sound ridiculous but it was the most possible explanation.
This Chief Inquisitor and God’s Hand was probably the only representative of conscientiousness within the Church and the Sacred City. Who would suspect someone like him to secretly yearn for power and kill an old nun?
“If this was all an act…” The second prince stopped halfway before laughing self-deprecatingly. It was a foolish question. If this was all an act, it would only mean that this person was truly terrifying. The second prince lowered his head and sighed. “I am beginning to admire him.”
655 I Am Everything
Ye Qingxuan felt like he was burning.
It was as if there was a massive sun rising directly over him. A frightful heat emanated out from the music theory, cruelly destroying everything. Even the Masters standing many paces away felt the great pressure.
Especially the three Scepters among them. The elements that had just come together had already cracked. If this continued, their Scepters would be completely crushed by the power of the Saint. They may not even be able to protect their Symphonies of Predestination.
Orlando was the first to be affected. His face went deathly pale.
The accomplishments of man are insignificant, for they will seep away…
His Scepter had just formed, and was far from being completely coalesced, so its structure was still very fragile. If it received another impact like the one it just had, it would probably be completely destroyed. What surprised him was that even at such a great distance, this indirect pressure was still so tremendous. What kind of hell was Ye Qingxuan experiencing up ahead?
Ye Qingxuan could hardly bear it.
But this kind of feeling was quite familiar to him…
A power thousands of times greater than his own pushed down on him. An ordinary person would have already been completely crushed. But he was still able to walk across the steel wire, although he had to pay a terrible price to do so.
Snap! His skin began to crack, but it gave off a sound like porcelain being smashed. The sound of snapping strings rang out without stopping. The core in his hands was as hot as a soldering iron. But he unwaveringly pressed down on the old nun’s forehead, and his senses sank deep into the core.
He faced an ocean so vast it seemed endless.
This was Schubert’s inheritance.
Under that powerful Scepter’s influence, numerous and complicated music theories created aetheric fluctuations as they played a silent, symphonic melody.
St. Schubert’s inheritance itself spanned the seven systems, but there was order in the chaos. From beginning to end the melody always came back to a single theme, linking in thousands of ways.
It was like the changes of the heart, as formless as water.
Besides the modifications, the chorales and the abstinences, even the schools of magic had achieved unparalleled results. The 24 movements “Winterreise,” with the nimbleness of its modifications, its universality and classicalness, had established a new path for the schools of magic, with many new schools being created. Among them, it was “Die Nebensonnen” that led to the creation of Ye Qingxuan’s school of magic.
Besides the feeling of tremendous separation and pressure that it gave Ye Qingxuan, the strongest sensation that he had when listening to it was… distance. It was clearly coming from close by, but it seemed as far away as the heavens. It was difficult to ascertain its melody, to touch its essence, to follow its changes.
This was true talent, completely different from that of a copyist like Ye Qingxuan. It was the mark of a Master who was cherished by the Great Originator.
Completely detached from surface-level temperature or substance, it achieved the true essence of modification. It was not limited by anything. It leaped over any obstacles, pierced through the fog, and reached its destination. It was like a soul that had grown wings, flying up into the sky and overlooking the mortal world.
There was no need to strive to understand it. It was like a natural stream, clear and without any sediment. Those who were limited by material and talent could only look up at its ever-changing form. No matter how high a peak they climbed, they could still not reach it.
Even though it was inherited music theory, it still carried a completely natural poetic quality. Because of this, it was extremely difficult to pass down. Even if it was sealed in the body of a mortal, it was still difficult to reveal its true power.
Those who failed to understand it could not wield its power, except for in the most rigid applications. And that would be like showing off a caged bird. Birds belonged flying freely in the sky.
Was that why the Church had so decisively abandoned it?
But now, just this rigid application of the power had put Ye Qingxuan into such a terrible fix.
It was the highest level of music theory in the Holy Cauldron, located in the deepest part of the realm of aether, even projecting into the Great Originator. Every move, every action was enough to set off a terrible storm.
All of the Masters coughed up blood at the next shock.
“Your Excellency, please make a decision quickly!” Orlando could not help but urge.
“I know! Don’t push me!” Ye Qingxuan’s voice was hoarse. His situation was much worse than Orlando’s. Half of his body was already shrouded in flames as if a fire had been kindled around him. That was the illusion produced by music theory seeking
after matter, but the true threat was much greater than the flames.
Once Ye Qingxuan failed to maintain his balance, the fire would burn him in an instant, leaving behind not even ash. And soon after the 21 Masters would follow him, all destroyed by Schubert.
The strings of the Jiu Xiao Huan Pei became lines of thought and entered into the music with difficulty. Ye Qingxuan intuitively understood that this was completely out of the ordinary and that this power had no fixed pattern to speak of.
It was a brutal assault and mental torture, but it was also the best way for him to learn.
When you took a beating, you learned how to fight.
He finally understood why his Symphony of Predestination was judged to be a foreign object-even though it had been connected and merged with the clothes of original sin, it was still not his. It was not his at all.
That was the soul of the movement, the vital “spirituality.”
Charles had once told him that a good movement was alive. It was not just chosen by a musician but chose a master for itself. That was what he lacked most, and Schubert’s Scepter had opened the door that had been closed to him all along-how to integrate the three parts of the trinity into one.
Although it was also known for its modification, Schubert’s power was very different from Paganini’s. Channeling Music Theory could even disguise itself and simulate other forces, but you would never be able to change its essence.
The Scepter was the self, and the Symphony of Predestination was the soul.
Paganini regarded everything as a tool. He refused to change himself, and would not allow anything to shake his essence. He thought that everything had been provided solely for him, which stemmed from his deep-seated arrogance.
And Schubert was just the opposite.
The spirituality hidden in music theory was always changing.
Like the morning dew, the sunset, the billowing ocean, like the revolutions of the stars… She was like a poet chanting about the world, discerning its essence from the appearance of everything in it. She transformed herself into a part of the cycle and transformed the cycle into herself. Even though she was imprisoned inside matter, inside a body, just like a bird trapped in thistles and thorns she could still sing.
