Chapter 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 terrifying 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 na?ve." 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 chooses 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."
"And me, I'm your senior. I was the best to you, Colt. Do you still remember me?"
"I was your first teacher, Colt. I knew that you would make a name for yourself."
"Colt, I'm your younger brother. Did you forget?" The child under a raincoat hugged his arms and pleaded, "It's so cold here and it's raining. Let's not stand here anymore and go inside to the fireplace."
"Please come."
"Yes, we've been waiting."
They waved warmly and called for Colt but he involuntarily stepped back with a pale face. "I can't."
"Why?" They grew sad. "We've been separated for such a long time."
"Because…because…" Colt stepped back. His features twisted. "You're all dead."
"No, Colt." They shook their heads, smiling. "We just left you to a faraway place."
"You're all dead." Colt gritted his teeth, his eyes darkening. "I killed all of you personally."
In that moment, the cheers cut off. Screams and roars began. The rain washed their faces, washing away their skin. Their red flesh and menacing features were revealed. They screamed, clawing with sharp nails.
"It hurts, Colt," someone cried. "It's so dark here. Come help us."
"I'm gonna rip you apart! B*stard, I've been waiting for decades!" someone roared. He tried to rush over but was stopped by an invisible barrier. "Coward, I'll kill you! Every day! I'll return the pain you gave me thousand-fold!"
"Come here, Colt!" they yelled and laughed hysterically. "You have nowhere to run to."
Colt stumbled back but he felt cornered. "Where…is this?"
"This is hell, Colt," someone said gently behind him. "You're dying so you saw hell. Soon, you'll crossover. After all these years, there are so many people waiting for you."
"I won't die!" Colt spun around and yelled, "I have such a bright future! How can I die?"
"You will." The comer lifted his hood, revealing hair as white as bone. Seeing Colt's blank stare, he laughed. He reached out, gripping Colt's neck, and looked down on him. "I came from there and I'll bring you back."
His grip was like a vise. Voice like grating metal, he said eerily, "I swore before that I will find you. The world is so large but you have nowhere to go."
"Ye…Qingxuan…" A shriek burst from Colt's throat. His eyes widened, staring menacingly at the face before his eyes. "You won't beat me…I can defeat you once, I can defeat you again!" Using all his might, he yanked out a sword and stabbed the figure's throat. Blood spurted out. Roaring, he cut off the head. Under the black rain, the figure disappeared like a hallucination. The demons and beasts vanished as well. Hell faded into the distance. All that remained was the endless rain.
In the pouring rain, someone murmured, "You'll return here. You will…"
Colt opened his eyes. He felt liquid fall onto his face. It was blood.
The cave was filled with the pungent and heavy odor of decay. He had taken out a sword without him realizing and stabbed it into the stone wall before him. The blade passed through a venomous green snake. It writhed in pain. Venom dripped from its fangs, only a centimeter away from Colt's neck.
He stared at it coldly, watching it struggle and die bit by bit until it fell silent. Then he tore it apart, skinned it, and devoured the flesh. Blood dripped onto the broken blade. The metal reflected his bedraggled face.
After running wildly during the night, he had hidden inside this cave like a beast. Even his eyes were beastly now.
Weak morning light fell from a crack behind him. It illuminated the name he had carved onto the wall in pain. Of varying sizes, the scraggly names filled the wall. They all came from the same person and had all been scratched away by the sword.
"No one can stop me. I will live on," Colt murmured as he chewed on the snake bone. He seemed to be reminding himself, to keep himself from forgetting.
As if the snake blood gave him strength, he recovered from the rink of death. His poisoned wounds healed and his fever abated. Reaching out, he yanked down the blood-sucking insects on him one by one. Then he used his sword to trim his unruly hair.
Finally, he crawled out of the cave. He had used all of his strength to shed his outer shell like a snake writhing in pain and stood under the sun again. The sunlight shone on his frail features but could not chase away the darkness in his eyes.
He panted and forged on, crossing the thorns and shrubs. He forged on, fell down, and climbed back up. He traveled across the wilderness, the forest, and the murky waters. He crawled on the ground, past the last quagmire, and onto a slope. Forward, forward…struggling on…
Finally, his eyes were illuminated by the sharp light in the distance. The long and narrow towers pierced the air. They extended deep into the clouds and stood like a forest. Heavy bells rang one after another, seeming to push the falling sky back up.
Pure singing floated down from the highest tower and spread in all directions. It was made of metal; the entire city was made of metal. Even the earth emanated with a metallic scent. It refracted the blazing sun with a burning glow.
Countless people passed by. Carriages rushed past, ships on the river whistled, and iron whales seemed to survey in the air.
The large city that rose up in levels was situated at the center of the world. It controlled the vast aether sea, balancing the aether density of the human world, guarding against the Dark World.
"The Sacred City…" Colt held his breath. This was the immortal city, the city of steel, the city of one thousand spires, the city of the phoenix…It was the center of the world, the peak of everything.
"The Sacred City!" Colt laughed uproariously in ecstasy. He danced, almost losing his breath from laughing. "I'm still alive! Do you see, Ye Qingxuan? You can't kill me! I'm still alive!" He sprawled on the ground and kissed the dust that flew up from the road. Like a lunatic, tears and snot flowed down his face. The passersby glanced over in confusion.
At the end of the long road, a line of armored knights galloped over on his horse. They carried swords and shields. The shields' emblem was two overlapped keys, representing the holy message. The leading priest looked majestic in his black robe.
In their path, the believers knelt and gazed reverently at their backs. But the knights stopped before a seemingly crazy beggar and half-knelt.
The black robed priest walked forward, holding a new robe in both hands. It was pure white with gold designs, radiating power and holiness.
"Lord Colt, under the Bishop's command, you shall be promoted to the Ministry of Information." He lowered his head and offered the robe. "I was ordered to welcome you. Please mount the horse."
After a long, long pause, Colt laughed from the dust. It was a full and hearty laugh. He climbed up and yanked over the robe, covering himself with the pure whiteness. He transformed into someone majestic and stern, up above everyone else. His eyes seemed to burn.
"Let's go." Mounting the horse, he looked at the city of steel in the distance with blazing eyes. "To the Sacred City!"
He was still alive and he would live on. He would go to the Sacred City…and take back what belonged to him. No matter the consequences!
He would do anything it took to climb to the top!
-
It was a sweltering afternoon. The city guards were all drenched in sweat.
The mass of people surged; carriages streamed past the city gates. They included wealthy nobles, ragged believers who came by foot, messengers, and diplomats from various nations…
More than one-hundred thousand people passed through the Sacred City gates each day. However, this time, most of the people grouped at the gates and looked into the distance.
The market outside the city instantly became jammed. People pushing against each other took up every high spot. In the corner of the crowd, an old man with his bags and a cane studied them with a look of lament.
"The Sacred City truly is impressive. There are so many people even at the city gates. It's eye-opening."
"Old man, is it your first time here?" Someone beside him looked at his dustiness and smiled. "It's rare for this to happen at the Sacred City too. You're lucky."
"Really?" The old man chuckled. "I guess my luck is not too bad."
"Who's coming?" someone asked.
"The hero from the Romulusian revolt. Who else? Of course, it's the star of the new generation of musicians, the future scepter grandmaster!"
"Why did he come so suddenly? No one promoted it. Otherwise, there would be even more people here."
"Ha, you don't know." Someone smiled mysteriously. "Apparently, Grandmaster Colt helped the Ministry of Information wipe out dozens of satanic cult locations after the war. His achievements even shocked the Sacred City. For safety, he traveled secretly and didn't reveal his identity until he almost made it to the Sacred City."
"I see." The passersby nodded, impressed.
The old man nodded in agreement, lamenting with them. He was tired from his journey. Setting down his cane, he sat down against the city walls. He started tuning his six-string violin, thrumming the strings. The melody was lost in the hustle bustle.
"Are you preparing an ode?" A little kid with a pinwheel looked at him curiously. "I heard that when hero's come back, musicians would give odes."
"Something like that." The old musician smiled and looked at his instrument. "I will if I have the chance."
The crowd's volume increased sharply. Under the clattering of hooves, cheers rang out.
The hero had returned.
-
"That's the new star of the Ministry of Information?" On the high tower, Mr. Hu looked at the rising clouds of dust. Beside him was an old and average-looking cardinal.
Hearing his question, he asked in return, "What is your opinion?"
Mr. Hu smiled and did not reply. He just looked down and studied the world.
"After being here for so long, you start thinking that many things are not important anymore," he said quietly. "Just like in the legends, the Devas in heaven are immortal and know no troubles. The resentment and deaths on the ground do not even deserve to be spoken of in the sky."
"Is that an Eastern legend?" The old priest sighed. "Some things are the same, whether Eastern or Western."
"Yes." Mr. Hu looked up. He studied the blazing sun and his eyes were covered in a sheen of dazzling gold. "There are no troubles in heaven. They do not know there is blood, killing, and fighting on the ground. They do not know eagles can assassinate the emperor, that meteorites can attack the sun, that the white rainbow can pierce the sun. So they do not know that…" His hand unconsciously reached to his waist but there was nothing there. His expression darkened and he sighed.
"…There is a sword on the ground."
In that moment, the sword was pulled out. In the crowd, a hand held a pocket watch. Thus, 'Faust' opened its eyes.
"Time, please stop," a desolate voice sang, filled with pain and hope. "Because you are so beautiful."
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