Silent Crown

Chapter 161: The Butcher and the Youth

The engineer who designed the gate would have never expected that there would be a psycho who would tear the gate apart just because he could not open it.

Stepping on the gate with gravel lying on the ground, Ye Qingxuan walked inside, but he did not see Lorenzo. As expected, the guy had escaped quickly. This was a good quality to have in downtown, otherwise he would not have survived up to this point.

"Let's go." Ye Qingxuan looked back at the Butcher. "Since we're here, let's see what the Arkham Asylum really looks like."

Through the long path and up the stairs, it seemed like they were entering a complex building. The air was still filled with pungent fumes of disinfectants. The smell was so strong it seemed to not only kill bacteria, but also people. The only sound in the silent hall were of echoing footsteps.

The lights from the ceiling were white and dazzling, illuminating the iron bars on both sides, as well as the exhausted shadows behind them.

The people seemed to have come from all over the place, and were different in age and appearance, but all of them had some abnormalities on their bodies. Some had bones outside the skin; some people's limbs were so slender and thin that they could only curl up in the cage; some had thorns growing from their joints, making them extremely ferocious; some were covered in muscles and the bars were like noodles to them, but they did not want to escape. Then there were some who had fish gills behind their ears. They were similar to the marks on the late Hariti…it was the Siren transformation.

They were modified in different ways. Even if it was the same type of modification, it was done in a different direction. The only similarity they shared was their expressionless faces. Neither the distant thunder nor the strangers walking by the fences could attract their attention. No one even tried to ask for food or beg to be let out. As if indulging in their own small world, they curled up in the cages, rubbing something on the ground carefully, mumbling to themselves, spitting bubbles, giggling…

"This must be the patient's ward," Ye Qingxuan murmured, looking at them from top to bottom. They were all dressed in the same clothes as the skeleton in the sewer. The clothing was similar to prisoner's' garb - a white shift designed for convenience at the surgery table.

Ten years ago, there must have been a riot that allowed some people, like Hariti, to escape. Others did not escape. Like the withered skeleton in the sewer, they could only stare at the direction of the sky as death came. Since then, they must have tightened security, just like…like this.

The butcher looked at the modified patients coldly. He held the bone saw with his guard up, but beside him, Ye Qingxuan looked calm.

"Don't be nervous. They won't react." He casually pulled a man out of a cage. The man did not struggle and allowed Ye Qingxuan to move him around. Ye Qingxuan gripped his chin and looked at his head and ears. After seeing the abnormality in the eye, he realized something.

"I was right. Their frontal lobes have been surgically removed." Ye Qingxuan mimed stabbing his eyes with his fingers for the Butcher. "Stab an ice pick through the bottom of the eyes to the skull, then stir the frontal lobe into a mess by feeling… After this process, no matter how vicious a person was, he would become a good boy and be manipulated easily.

"Once you've mastered this surgery, it only takes a few minutes. It's safe and harmless. What's more, it won't have any effect on the later modifications. It's really safe and convenient. "

The youth sniffed the intensifying smell of disinfectants in the wind. Illusions flashed past his eyes. The buried memory appeared again. Those broken memories had actually become unclear through the years. He was unwilling to recall what had happened to him. But for some reason, anger burned hotter and hotter in his heart. That wrath was like lava under the earth's crust, crossing in the darkness quietly, burning people without any fire. He didn't even know who he was supposed to be angry at.

"Hey, big guy, let's split up here," he suddenly said softly. "The Shaman actually gave you another task, right?"

The Butcher did not reply.

"He knew since the beginning that the Parliament controls the asylum, right? He let me explore this place to find out what's really happening. And he asked you to come here with me, not to protect me, but to kill his enemies. Other than the Professor, there are also people from the parliament." The young man looked at him silently. "Am I right?"

Under the youth's gaze, the Butcher was silent and still did not answer.Ye Qingxuan could not help but purse his lips. "Mr. Seton, you can't just keep pretending, you know?"

The Butcher froze. His eyes finally changed, from ferocious to gloomy, and then to menacing. But the youth just looked at him, until an impatient sigh finally came from behind the mask. "How did you know?"

"You can't expect me to cooperate with someone who had been hunting me, can you?" Ye Qingxuan shrugged. "I had to investigate."

"In one day?"

"More than that, actually," Ye Qingxuan said. "In fact, I started suspecting that you were being lenient after I realized that I was actually able to escape from the infallible butcher. Later, every time I thought about it, I would think it was suspicious. I don't think I'm strong enough to escape from the butcher. So there was only one possibility: the butcher deliberately let me go."

"The butcher," or Seton, was speechless and did not reply.

"…As long as you connect the dots, it makes sense. After all, I don't have that many friends and there aren't many people with your body. I'm still grateful that you let me go. I really thought I was going to die." Ye Qingxuan cocked his head. "But does the boss know that you're making extra money on the side?"

"…" In the silence, Seton's face must have been very angry under the horse mask.

"D*mmit, go away!" He smashed the bone saw onto the ground, cracking it. He threw Ye Qingxuan one last glance before turning away. But behind him, the youth stared at him and suddenly shouted, "Seton!"

"Yes?" Seton looked back.

"Be careful!" the youth bid farewell quietly.

The Butcher scoffed. "You're the one who needs to be careful." He waved without even looking back. "Don't worry. I'll take revenge for you if you die, for Old Phil's sake."

"Oh, that's great." The voice of the youth came from the distance. As he walked away, Seton could not hear it anymore.

-

The Butcher walked slowly through the darkness, following the scent of blood in the wind. According to the map that his employer had given him, he needed to walk through the corridor, go up the ladder, cross the third operating room, turn to the right, breach the sixth hall, go down the elevator, and land in the central security room.

All the places in the path needed to be destroyed, all the information about the blood sacrifice needed to be burned, and all the living things needed to be killed, including the thugs from the mafia, the original caretakers of the hospital, the minions of Parliament, and the hired…dark musicians.

The Butcher suddenly halted his soundless march. The white light above his head flashed, and a baby's cry came from behind a closed door. The plaque engraved with "Third Operating Room" on the steel door was rusted.

A surgery was being performed. Blood seeped out from the crack under the door. There was an eerie yet gentle singing that could be heard over the baby's crying, as if a dead woman was screaming and wailing while gazing at the world. The Butcher opened the steel door silently and saw blood everywhere.

Under the pale, hot light, a figure in a white gown had his back to the Butcher. He carefully soaked a string of entrails in an antiseptic solution, meticulously cleaned every ending, and finally threw the emptied baby into the trash. When he turned, the eyes behind the mask saw the newcomer and froze. "Butcher?"

His hoarse voice seemed to come from dozens of mouths. The voices overlapped and became a shrill noise. The Butcher stared at him, eyes landing on his body. Through the clothes, he could see dozens of open mouths on the body. It dawned on him. "Yellow Foot, the dark musician?"

Yellow Foot, brother of the dead Blue Teeth, lowered his head slightly. "A few minutes ago, Alberto's men told me that someone had come in. Where is your companion? Where did he go? To tell you the truth, I'd rather see Sherlock Holmes than you. We're both dark musicians, so there must be a lot of topics we can discuss together."

A scoff came from the mask.

Yellow Foot seemed to understand something and his eyes grew pitiful. "Forget it, it's ok if it's you. It's rare to find such good material for experiments…"

The butcher silently clenched the bone saw. The joints in his body popped and cracked. His body expanded, expanded, and expanded even more! Finally, he transformed into the ferocious giant again.

"God, please give me mercy. I kneel in the river of souls, attempting to wash away the dirtiness! God, please give me salvation. I am waist-deep in curses. Can you hear my pleas? God, please give me your blessing. I am neck-deep in blood. I beg for relief…"

The music score engraved on his body was awakened, transforming the flow of blood into a tidal wave. His heart beat like a drum, causing the aether to vibrate. Blood flowed from his pores, transforming in the air into faces of the dead. The faces laughed and echoed, "Lala, lala, lala~"

The light was snuffed without a sound. In the darkness, the singing of the dead overlapped with the dark musician's chanting. The din and the quakes spread, raising a shapeless cloud of dust. The heat of the blood and the tangible evilness spilled in all directions. The darkness swallowed all.

-

In the quiet corridor, the youth watched as the Butcher faded into the distance. He looked around at the blank faces and sneered. "Well then, let's wreak some havoc, shall we?"

He knocked his cane on the ground violently, emitting a metallic clang. "Whether it's the Professor or the parliament, let's get everything straightened. Since I am called Vengeful Spirit, I'll have to make them pay for what they've done!"

Alberto woke up with a shock from his nightmare. Twisting his head, he gazed at the deep night sky outside the window. Firelight rose, burning the sky red. The dew was heavy. He sat on his wheelchair and placed a blanket over his knees. The flames in the fireplace flickered and the high grade pinewood burned soundlessly. It emitted a fragrant scent, calming one down subconsciously.

Even if fire was burning downtown to ashes outside, it was still serene and peaceful inside, as if he belonged to another world. This was the reward that he deserved. As the leader of the Black Hand Gang—the Sicilian Mafia— that had once controlled one-third of downtown, Alberto was now old. He did not have the energy anymore.

While being old had its disadvantages, it also gave him the ability to see through things with old wisdom. For a leader, having good vision was the most important thing. And the current events proved that he was right.

When the parliament's messenger had appeared before him for the first time, he had not even waited for Mr. Hall to make his request before pledging his entire clan's loyalty to the parliament. This sincerity had won him the parliament's trust and allowed him to enter the heart of the parliament, becoming the guard of the asylum.

If this was the boat to success, he was already in first class and watching as his former enemies and partners struggled and killed each other in the ocean. No matter what the result was, everything would be changed if the ritual in the final laboratory of the central security room was successful. All former enemies would be eliminated and he would replace the Shaman as the ruler of downtown. He would be the new Dark King! Yes, if the ritual was successful.

For some reason, he still felt slightly unsettled. But no matter how much he thought, he could not find a flaw or loophole in the perfect plan.

"Father…"

The Shaman's main force had been held down. Everyone had been blinded and distracted by the riots that had taken over the entire district. No one would be able to stop the parliament's ritual.

"Father."

But then, where did this unsettling feeling come from? Alberto racked his brain but he could not find anything.

"Father!" Lorenzo raised his voice, shocking Alberto out of his thoughts.

Alberto's shoulders twitched and he looked back toward Lorenzo, who has beside him. Seeing the dissatisfaction in his eyes, Lorenzo's face paled. "Father, someone broke in through the warehouse!"

"Warehouse? Which warehouse?" Alberto asked reflexively. But then he reacted immediately and his face turned white—what other warehouse could it be? Of course it was the most important one! "When?"

"A few minutes ago. Someone in the central security room discovered that the black door in the sewer was opened. The bone primates kept outside started going crazy too and they still haven't been calmed down."

"They broke in from the sewer?" The unsettling feeling in Alberto intensified. He forced himself to stay calm and waved his hand, ordering, "Take care of it. Don't let them cause too big of a disturbance, understood?"

But Lorenzo did not move. He stood in place, opening his mouth to speak but hesitating.

"What are you waiting for?!" Furious, Alberto slapped the armrest of the wheelchair. "Go!"

"I already went but…" Lorenzo swallowed heavily and said in a trembling voice, "They…might be Holmes and the Butcher."

"Impossible!" Alberto practically jumped up from the wheelchair as he glared at Lorenzo. "What the f*ck are you saying?!"

Quickly realizing that he had lost his temper, Alberto forced himself to calm down. He massaged his temples as he thought. After a long while, he suddenly looked up and stared at his son. "Why did they show up here?"

"I don't know either." Stared at by those eerie eyes, Lorenzo felt goosebumps. He quickly explained, "They just suddenly popped up out of nowhere. They came along the supply tunnel. Oh right, the smuggler that always transported the supplies was killed yesterday. Do you think Holmes did it?"

Alberto froze. But he instantly reacted. "True, he'd never give up this chance if he knew that the parliament is holding the ritual here. He even hired that butcher…Kill them!" His eyes grew fierce. "You must not let them into the central security room! Where is Red Eye and Yellow Foot? Weren't they sent here by the parliament to protect the ritual?"

"Red Eye is still in central security. Yellow Foot already disappeared with the Butcher." Lorenzo gulped. "The third surgery room is surrounded by the dark musicians' fog. Yellow Foot and his corpse puppets were all in there but we don't know what happened."

"What about Holmes?" Alberto stared deeply into his son's eyes. "Is he separated from the Butcher?"

"I think so," Lorenzo replied in a trembling voice. "He split up with the Butcher and didn't come out after entering the patient's ward…He seems to be interested in the mutants."

"Good, good!" Alberto's expression turned sinister. After a short pause, he suddenly ordered, "Take some men and the four musicians from the parliament and seal the entire ward. I don't care what you do, but kill Holmes! He and the Professor are the scourges of the parliament. They must be killed. And if he's dead, the parliament will not let down our sacrifices."

"M-me?" Lorenzo's face turned ghastly pale. He had heard about the dark musician's cruelty more than once in recent days. He had singlehandedly destroyed the Pyramid Scheme, and turned the high and mighty Indian musician Puspotkata into an idiot. And apparently, the mysterious Professor had lost a lot to him too. Now Lorenzo had to go deal with him?

"What are you scared of?!" Alberto roared in anger. "No matter how powerful Holmes is, he's just a liar who plays tricks! Have you heard of a psychological dark musician who can do more than just scare people?

"Red Eye already said that he hadn't even broken through the Barrier of Knowledge. He probably hasn't even sacrificed himself to Satan yet. The only thing he can do is scare people. So if you aren't scared of him, what can he do to you? No matter how good he is at controlling people, can he control demons?"

Lorenzo froze. He was slightly reassured, but his mind was still shrouded in an eerie cloud. Were matters really this simple? He was not sure.

Lorenzo took a few deep breaths and set down his determination. Turning around to leave, he saw a pale face beside the door. Lorenzo's face was reflected in those terrified eyes. He stumbled back and practically fell to the ground.

"Disaster, sir, disaster!" The man, face white in horror, reported in a trembling voice, "Out of control! Sir…what do we do?!"

"What the f*ck are you talking about?" Alberto glared at the man who had rushed in. "What is going on?"

"It's Holmes, it's Holmes!" The man's voice quivered as he replied, "A few minutes ago, all the guards in the patient's ward disappeared. No one knows what that guy did. When we went in, everyone was gone. There wasn't a single reply. And then the cries came and our men…they're all dead!"

Lorenzo's knees wobbled and he collapsed onto the ground. "Holmes?!"

—

Ten minutes ago, under the ghastly white light, the patient's ward was completely silent. Even the sounds of breathing seemed to be suffocated by the heavy smell of disinfectants.

"Looking at the time, they should be here right?" Ye Qingxuan strolled down the quiet hall, gazing at the bars to each side. Behind the bars, pairs of blank eyes looked at him. There was no light in those eyes—only numbness, unfamiliarity, and nothingness.

These people were still alive, but their bodies had been turned into monsters, their memories shattered, and their souls thrown into a bottomless abyss. They were still alive, but it was worse than death.

"So scary," Ye Qingxuan sighed quietly. "I can't even find a trace of humanity." There was no excitement, no sadness and no anger or desolation. They breathed purely to survive, like a zombie. Really, was there nothing left behind?

In the silence, he pressed down on his watch. The snap was crisp. "All is dark. Only the Tree of Life is forever green," Ye Qingxuan recited. His eyes flashed with a dazzling light.

In his hand, Jiu Xiao Huan Pei abruptly began shaking and played a gentle melody. Amidst the faint yet warm melody, water vapor gathered from all directions, transformed into perception threads and spread out again.

After the first measure ended, the second began right after. The vague melody suddenly changed and every note rose in key. The second measure had begun! Just as Charles had said, the difficulty rose exponentially. The invisible perception threads suddenly trembled and split into two. They spread again, reaching in all directions. The proximity doubled!

Before the echoes of the second measure dissipated, the third replay began once again. The vague melody had gradually become clearer. It was like the rushing sounds of a river in the springtime to the ear, flowing in the air.

Once again, the perception threads lengthened and expanded. Forty-six threads floated in the air, reaching out in all directions. Ye Qingxuan's hand trembled but the music did not stop.

The fourth measure quickly began. The aether began rippling and the perception threads shot forward under the flowing melody. They lengthened, went past the bars, wrapped around the living organisms and lengthened, lengthened, lengthened!

The fifth measure, the melody floated in the air. Though the vague clanging and exalted melody was the same, the notes were rising to a much higher octave.

The sixth measure! The crisp melody was no longer insubstantial like before. The intensifying melody resounded in the wind, becoming more awe-inspiring.

Like a command that was impossible to defy, it spread forward slowly. Transforming from thin and insignificant to dense rain, the souls sleeping in the melody was slowly stirred awake by the youth. Now, the melody had turned from the fleeting sounds to a military march!

Ye Qingxuan's forehead was covered in beads of sweat. Even with help from the Double Snake Time Meter, manipulation at this level was still too much for him. He had actually reached his limits at the fifth measure, but he could not believe that he was able to force himself to the sixth measure. The length was multiplied six times!

Now, Ye Qingxuan felt as if his body was like a giant shapeless beast. His mind had expanded in all directions along these hundred-meter long perception threads!

He could feel all the complex levels of the Arkham Asylum, the wild aether rippling from the lowest level and also the heavy footsteps that surrounded the patient's ward. They were the armed thugs or the musicians with rippling aether, their eyes murderous and cruel. They came here with orders to make this place his burial ground.

Ye Qingxuan opened his eyes again. He stared behind the bars and gazed at the pairs of blank eyes. He asked softly, "Everyone, are you content being turned into experiments?"

No one replied, but he could not help but laugh. His voice had an undertone of anger. "Are you really willing to have someone strap you onto a gurney, cut open and turned into a demon…to rot and die without a sound?

"Look at you right now. You can't even feel anger—not even a bit of fear or joy can be felt. Are you truly willing?"

In the silence, the dazed eyes behind the railing gazed blankly at the youth's figure. They seemed unable to understand or comprehend what he was talking about. No one replied. They just smiled blankly, drooling, curled inside their cages.

Bang! The gate suddenly opened with a fulmination. The figures exuding wild evilness rushed in. They held crossbows or swords and their eyes were ice cold. With a single command, they would swarm over and turn their enemy into a honeycomb or hack them into minced meat.

At the back of the crowd were a few figures clad in black robes. Aether rippled wildly around them, as if a music score was brewing within it. They stared coldly at the cornered dark musician, hiding in the safest spot to search for his weak points and wait for the fatal kill. There were more than a hundred guards, sixteen crossbows and four musicians.

Ye Qingxuan did not even need to think about it to know that he was in deep trouble. But gazing at all those cold faces, there was no fear in Ye Qingxuan's eyes. There was only coldness and pity.

As if their roles had been switched, the high and mighty judge gazed down coldly from the clouds and asked quietly, "Have you ever repented for your sins?" The hoarse voice spread in the silence, wrapping around everyone's ears as if it came from their hearts.

In an instant, they all felt as if they were hallucinating. They stared at the figure in shock.

They saw Ye Qingxuan slowly raise his arm and slam the cane down by his feet!

Thud! The plaintive melody sounded!

It was a melody filled with wildness and hopelessness, as if one had fallen into the abyss of despair. The sharp and broken melody shot forward like nails, resounding between the walls.

A roar sounded out of thin air. It was the surging black river!

The thousands of long perception threads around Ye Qingxuan's body suddenly shook and moved like a living object. They covered the entire ward; passed through the layers of obstacles; wove past the ventilators, bars and cracks; and finally pierced into the sleeping minds.

Then, the hopeless melody played! The melody of judgement transformed into a black river surging from thin air. It followed the perception threads and rushed into the muddled souls.

Like a spark landing in a withered forest, it lit up the fallen leaves, the dried branches, a dead tree, and then a second tree, a third, a fourth…until finally, the entire black forest was bathed in wildfire!

Beside Ye Qingxuan, a dazed man behind the railing shook and grabbed his head, crying out painfully. Cries burst from the layers of bars like a chorus. The sleeping souls were shocked awake, the wooden eyes began trembling and the blank features began twisting.

They were writhing in pain from the horror, tortured by despair, and pulled from sleep by the furious melody. Shards of memories appeared before their eyes without permission. Yes, they were remembering, remembering…Remember what those people did to you. Remember the pain and despair you have felt. Remember the fury and wildness sleeping in the deepest part of your soul! Even their nerves were lit on fire by this wild melody.

Behind the railing, the prisoners shook uncontrollably, drowning in their past nightmares. They screamed and cried, or roared in anger! The memories and pain broken and sleeping in their minds were awakened and surged into Ye Qingxuan's mind along the perception threads. All of it entered the thundering black river.

The river trembled and changed once again. Now, countless pained faces appeared in the river. The dark memories that formed the water had never been so clear before. It was the river where all hopeless memories converged. At this moment, it was almost solid and flowed beside Ye Qingxuan. With one more step, it would be able to resonate with the Originator and become real!

In that instant, Ye Qingxuan saw the pain, fury, and the hopelessness in their hearts…it was so similar to his own hopelessness from before—the fury of being held onto the surgery table and having his future path cut off!

Bang! Inside the cage, a frail man buried his head in his hands and howled, ramming against the wall painfully. His eyes were bloodshot and his hands scratched mindlessly. They cut through the steel bars and left deep gashes in the walls and ground. The souls caught in nightmares had awakened and were now roaring in anger! Their eyes were blood-red.

In the blink of an eye, the musicians in the crowd suddenly realized what was going on and their faces turned pale. "Kill him! Kill him! He's resonating with the mutants…"

"Too late." Ye Qingxuan sneered and raised his hand under the angry stares from behind the bars. "Next, you will repent for your sins!"

Bang! A deformed and bloated woman crashed through the bars and broke free. The gills behind her ears shook and she let out a shrill noise. The sound was solid like an ax and it spread, slicing everything in its path into pieces. Beside her, the guards were swept into the scream before they could react and shattered instantly.

Then, roars came from all directions. The empty eyes within the cages rose again. Tangible fury and wildness filled those eyes! The 312 mutants suddenly broke free from the cages and began devouring the uniformed guards. Even if they had lost their memories, they still remembered the hatred that was engraved in their hearts. They still remembered the appearances of those people, the disdainful eyes and the menacing smiles.

A mutant covered in bone material crashed against the cage and rushed into the crowd through an opening of the arrows and axes. He opened his mouth full of sharp teeth and closed it around someone's throat, rolling on the ground. The beastly nature implanted into them had awoken along with the anger and they knew how to kill without being taught.

Clang! Clang! Clang! The sound of bars shattering rang continuously. The wild experiments charged toward the defenseless guards under the guide of the dark melody, and exacted revenge for the pain and despair they had suffered!

Sirens, bone primates, blood demons, hyenas…the mutants with inhumane body parts wailed and threw themselves onto the enemies. They did not care about their own lives. They attacked as if they wanted to die with the enemy. In an instant, the white lights were covered with a layer of blood-red. The tearing and shattering of meat and bone sounded continuously. This was a feast of revenge!

Under Ye Qingxuan's command, these mindless mutants converged into a tide of people. They extinguished the screaming and fleeing enemy, swarming upon them and venting their hatred!

In the end, the bloody room was in ruins and there was no longer any noise. Silence had returned.

Ye Qingxuan stood in the puddle of blood. The crazed beasts turned around and stared at the only one standing in the blood that was still alive. They stared at the pair of dark eyes. Finally, they lowered their wild faces and fell, kneeling before him. They accepted the melody in the black river and the guidance from deep within their souls.

"Welcome to the black parade." In the puddle, Ye Qingxuan looked down and studied the figures kneeling before him. Gazing at the subdued beasts, he quietly assured, "I promise, this will be your night of revenge!"

The stillness and tranquility was destroyed in the blink of an eye. Arkham Asylum was thrown into chaos and madness. Sirens rang from every corner. Fire was everywhere. Frantic patients rushed out of the cages like a tidal wave into this bloody and dark building.

The pungent smell of disinfectant could not conceal the smell of blood. As the unrest spread, one could hear the screams and cries from every corner. In the corridor, the terrified doctors and nurses fled, but countless figures broke through the cages and pounced on them, tearing them into shreds.

Candles were knocked over by someone and fell onto the ground. The fire spread wildly as clothes were ignited and people ran in fear. It first came to the corpse warehouse, then the patient ward in B1, and then the laboratory and special research area in B2. Quickly, dozens of the mutants sleeping in petri dishes also went out of control. Those who were close to completion suddenly transformed into demons and went mad. They furiously killed the researchers, leaving blood all over the ground.

In the chaos, someone opened the black door of the warehouse to escape. As a result, he was torn into shreds by the group of bone primates pacing outside the door. Then, those demons raised outside rushed into the asylum too, spreading quickly with the chaos. As the sirens rang, the vengeful spirits hunted frantically for every living thing that had ever been involved in their transformation. Blood was shed wherever they went.

Amidst the chaos, a fleeting figure was three stories below ground in the guarded library. He leafed through the files and quietly looted this treasure cove. Here were all of Arkham Asylum's records, including notes on transforming patients into demons, all reports of clinical observations, drugs use records and distribution methods, as well as the transformation skills left by those dark musicians. As he searched, he pocketed all of the the achievements that the parliament had worked so hard on.

Finally, the figure stopped. He had found the most critical file at last and carefully put it in his pocket like it was a treasure. Now, he had accomplished more than half of his goals. The man known as Lord Moriarty laughed hoarsely and walked out.

Quickly, he noticed the chaos outside and the screams from all directions. After reading a dead man's memory, he learned of the reason behind all this. He fell into silence.

"No wonder he is Holmes, the Vengeful Spirit," he sighed with shock and pity. "What a shame that I didn't kill you at the first time I saw you."

He did not stay any longer. Like an invisible spirit, he walked through the wards and corridors of unrest and entered deeper into the darkness. There, the aether was rippling wildly. The blood sacrifice was reaching its climax!

-

"B1 is completely out of control!"

"The sixth lab is unresponsive!"

"Sir, the imprisoned mutants broke through the gates and ran into the second operating room …"

"The Black Gate was breached! Holmes is going to reach the central security room! We can't stop him anymore!"

"Mad! Everyone's gone mad!" a crazed man yelled. "They're all dead! Dead!"

"Somebody get him out of here!" Alberto roared angrily, but his eyes were blank and panicking. What was going on? How did this happen? How did everything go out of control?

"Where are our musicians? Where did they go?!" Alberto had forgotten all the deaths that had been reported. He screamed, "Where is Yellow Foot? Isn't he in the third lab? Where is he now? Make him deal with these d*mn pieces of trash!"

"Sir, Sir…" A man stumbled in, fear written all over his face. "We don't have any more time. Someone's going to break in…"

Alberto's scream stopped abruptly as if he was choked. He had never felt a fear this close. He could almost hear the approaching footsteps through the door.

"Drop the gate! Seal the hallway…" He clung to the guard tightly, screaming like a madman, "Why are you standing here? Go, go, go!" The man pressed the button on the wall under his instructions. The door shook as a loud noise sounded outside the hall. The gate fell, sealing off the only exit and isolating him from the outside world.

Alberto would never let himself fall into a hopeless situation. A man who planned for the future must always have an escape plan. Including now. There were many luxurious offices and rooms in the asylum, but he had picked this one room because there was an escape route!

"Come on, hurry up, hurry…" He urged his men to push his wheelchair faster past the secret door, forging into the darkness along the icy damp walls.

At times like this, he could no longer worry about Lorenzo, who was commanding at the front line. Anyway, Lorenzo still had two brothers who would be much more successful than Lorenzo after they matured.

As they escaped quickly, he heaved violently with fear, but he could not help but smile happily. But soon his smile froze. At the end of the passage, at the only exit, stood a burly figure that almost took up the entire passage. The figure seemed to have waited for a long time here. When it noticed Alberto approaching, the broken horse mask revealed a ferocious smile.

"The Butch…Butcher?" Alberto yelped and shook his head, "No, it's impossible, Yellow Foot should have…"

"Yellow Foot?" The butcher sneered and tossed down a spherical thing. "Are you talking about that dark musician?"

Alberto lowered his head dully, and looked at what the Butcher was holding in his arms—an insect-like head with six compound eyes. It felt heavy, like holding an iron ball. No flesh could be seen. But one could vaguely see the original distorted features on that broken face.

"I've never met such a weak dark musician." In the flickering firelight, the Butcher's charred bones could be seen. He twisted his neck, producing cracking sounds. His chest had decayed, revealing white bones. A large heart beat firmly behind the white ribs. Caged by the ribs, an inhuman purple-black heart slowly opened an eye. It glanced at Alberto coldly and then shut again, as if there was nothing interesting. It went back to sleep.

That man behind Alberto could not stand the strange stare. He broke down and ran away, screaming. The next second, he was pierced through by a giant bone saw, lifted up and nailed high up on the wall.

"You're next." The butcher walked forward.

Alberto screamed and hurriedly spun the wheelchair backward, trying to escape. But the wheelchair overturned in the chaos. He fell down onto the ground, and quickly climbed up again, crawling backwards with both his hands and feet. Under the terrifying shadow of death, he moved quickly. Like a worm writhing on the ground, he tried to escape back the way he came.

The butcher followed behind him. When he passed the corpse he had crucified, he pulled the bone-saw out and put it behind him. He tried to slow his pace down, but he still caught up with Alberto when the old man reached his supposed safe house.

It was still so quiet and peaceful here. Pinewood burned in the fireplace, exuding a fragrance that calmed the mind. But when Alberto fled here, he stopped, not for recalling this warmth, but bout of despair. The only exit in the room had been sealed as per his order. He cried out in despair. Crawling all over, he tried to hide from the huge figure, but he was pinned to the ground by the butcher's foot.

He blubbered nonsense, like "I still have a family," like "I can give you a lot of money," like "the Shaman's era has passed, come with me to the parliament, you're so strong, you'll definitely get a higher position than me." Or, recalling the past, he asked the Butcher, "Don't you remember me? I hired you before, we worked together so well before…"

"Do not struggle," the Butcher interrupted him.

"What?" Alberto froze.

"I said, do not struggle," the Butcher said softly. "It annoys me and it's useless." He picked Alberto up with one hand and gripped the frail neck, his fingers tightening slowly. His voice was cold and calm. "My employer said that since you're a part of downtown, he wants me to try and leave you a whole body. So, you can't die in a faster way. I'm really sorry."

"Sh…Shaman…" Alberto squeezed the last syllable from his throat painfully. He clawed the Butcher's hands and mask, struggling in the slow process of suffocation. His eyes closed slowly, his body twitched and finally stopped.

But the Butcher still stayed in his position. One second, two seconds, three seconds passed… The still body suddenly began twitching and the tightly closed eyes flew open in fury, glaring at the killer before him viciously. He used his last strength to kick him.

In the end, his face turned purple. After a violent twitch, his body stiffened completely. After the long ordeal and planning, death finally came. That was vicious even in death, the eyes reflected the burning flames outside the window. He was the first one.

The Ganlu Courtyard of downtown was brightly lit. In the past, this place was suffused with the smell of spices and hookah, and filled with the laughter of girls. It was elegant and opulent, and enthusiastic servants bustled around every corner. Red sleeves and white veils floated in the fragrant air. It was like paradise on Earth.

But now, there was no more paradise, and no more spices and hookah. The girls were all hiding in their rooms; the red sleeves and white veils burned in flames.

There was fire and armed thugs everywhere. The angry men in turbans rushed in from the broken door. Like a tidal wave, they surrounded the man, gripped their weapons and waited in formation.

One person. The enemy was only one person.

Attracting the gazes of all the thugs, Ghosthand took out the pipe in his mouth. "Is Silo here?"

A sympathetic sigh came from the back of the crowd. Among layers of guards, Silo gazed at him, his eyes turning regretful. Ghosthand had truly become old. When he first came to Avalon as a young man, everyone said that Ghosthand was the best assassin. No one in history could top him, and his skills were unique to the world. Everyone he had his eye on would die. He was almighty.

But then he took a job he should not have taken, touched something he should not have touched, and broke the Shaman's rules. His hand was personally chopped off by the Shaman. Ghosthand did not accomplish much after his hand was chopped off.

Even though the hand was put back later, the broken bones could never fuse together and he became the Shaman's dog…Not only had he aged after all these years, but had he lost his skills and techniques too?

"Why are you sighing?" Ghosthand heard his voice and laughed. Lifting his head, he studied the hawkish eyes in the back of the crowd. "Silo, I'm here to take your life but shouldn't you be happy that two old friends like us are meeting?"

"Shouldn't sneaky things like you be coming in in the dark?" Silo asked coldly. "Did you think that I'd give myself to you obediently after you said you'd come and find me?"

"I'm sorry, but you misunderstood." Ghosthand smiled and shook his head. Snuffing his pipe, he put it back into his pocket. His voice grew gentle. "I was a killer before, that is true. But I was never good at sneaking and secret kills. I've never done any work that required lurking and patience. You can say that I'm completely unskilled at that—" He paused, taking off the glove on his right hand. "—Because I like to enter from the front door."

Six covered buckles on his black leather glove opened as he moved. With each opened buckle, a leather strap tied around his hand would snap up. Snap, snap, snap, snap…

Finally, the glove that had constrained his hand for many years fell to the ground without a sound. As Ghosthand slowly rolled up his sleeves, the true appearance of the hand hidden under the long glove was finally revealed.

There was nothing under the light of the torches. Nothing at all!

Silo's expression changed, some severe emotion flashed through his eyes. The fingers held behind his back fidgeted.

Something whistled through the air from the darkness above the roof.

Ping! An arrow dipped in dark green poison suddenly appeared, but then it froze in the air, right before Ghosthand—it was as if an invisible hand was gripping it.

Seeing everyone's shocked expressions, Ghosthand chuckled. He "clenched his fist" and then the cracks and pops of joins came out of thin air. The arrow shattered, crumbling to dust.

Then he reached out his "hand," explored the chest of the enemy before him, and slowly pulled his hand out. There was no blood, no wounds, or anything strange, but now there was a beating heart in his hand.

The man who had lost his heart fell to the ground and did not get up again. No matter how many drugs he had taken, no matter how much vitality had been squeezed out, he could not grow another heart and was useless against this technique.

"It's like what you see, Mr. Silo." Ghosthand stepped forward, his voice was polite. "I don't know how to use a sword or arrow. I don't understand poison or ambushes either. This is the only technique I know. Fifteen years ago, when I still had my right hand, I would use it to open up my enemies' chests and dig out their hearts. When I lost right my hand, I realized that I could skip some steps. Your actions during that period brought shame to the city. But today, the shame will end."

Boom! The heart in his hands suddenly burst. Blood spewed out from between his clenched fingers like a spray of bloody rain. A drop landed on Silo's face.

Feeling the hotness on his face, Silo blankly raised a finger and wiped his face. Seeing the blood on his finger, he froze, his face turning white. He stumbled back.

He screamed something in the Indian language. It was probably something along the lines of "Kill him" or "Destroy him without leaving his body in tact!"

And so a roar sounded abruptly through the crowd. The ascetic monk hidden amongst the muscular men suddenly acted. In an instant, the frail figure rushed out from the crowd, chanting in Sanskrit. His voice was like booming thunder.

Om—

His skin transformed into a copper bronze. He had suddenly transformed into a golden man. Even his body weight had multiplied and a sharp noise sounded when his bare feet hit the stone tiles.

As he breathed heavily, faint thunder seemed to roar within him. Strands of electric light appeared on his metallic skin, traveling and projecting. In the blink of an eye, the god of enforcement from the scriptures descended from the sky. It lifted wind and thunder out of thin air and it was terrifying.

As the monk recited the secret spell, a temporary blankness appeared in the minds of everyone in the notes' path. But after this blankness, the golden monk wrapped in lightning and thunder had already rushed forward. His right hand was bent into a holy sign and he swung it down like a Vajra! The fist whistled through the air and created ripples in the air current. It transformed into the dharma against demons!

As the Vajra fist fell down, Ghosthand raised his hand, meeting it halfway…

Boom! Instantly, a muffle sound burst in the air. Rays of lightning shot out, blinding everyone's eyes. They could only feel something quickly moving around in the ball of light.

It was something faster than sound, and shorter and faster than thunder. It came and left in a moment, soaring past the long distance. It was as fast as a dream that had been awoken in shock.

After that instant, there were no more loud bangs. After the blinding light faded, only two figures remained. Ghosthand was still in his original spot. The ascetic monk that had bursted into action was rooted to his spot as well, unable to move.

"What are you waiting for?" Silo yelled, urging the unmoving monk. "Kill him! I didn't bring you here from India just so you could scare people!"

The ascetic monk still did not move.

Ghosthand studied the monk who was glaring at him. A tinge of respect appeared in his eyes and he sighed. "I can't believe there really is a spell in this world that transforms a human body into metal. The Indian ascetics are full of hidden talents. I am impressed."

"I lost," the metallic monk said hoarsely. He closed his eyes, sighing. "Silo…run." As he spoke, the breath held in his chest finally leaked out. Without the breath, he could no longer support the spell and he returned to his body of flesh. And then he collapsed, bit by bit. He sank to the ground like liquid and became a pile of mud.

The cool moonlight shone down from the sky onto Ghosthand's invisible hand, illuminating what was held there. It was a white skeleton, complete from head to toe. There was a shade of ashen green to the ghastly white, and it swayed in the cold wind as Ghosthand moved. In that instant, he had pulled the ascetic monk's skeleton through the metallized flesh, and had not leave a single bone behind!

"Ten years ago, everyone knew that my hand was fast," Ghosthand murmured, gazing at the dazed eyes and white faces. "So many years have passed. I can't believe I've gotten even faster."

Ten years ago, Ghosthand's technique was one-of-a-kind. Now, it was still unmatched!

He loosened his fingers and the white skeleton fell to the ground. It crashed with a crisp sound, like a wind chime made of bone. This was the straw that broke the camel's back—Boom!

A roar suddenly sounded in the crowd. A crazed man brandished his sword and rushed toward Ghosthand. His head was chopped off!

The mass of people rustled. The original equilibrium in the courtyard had been disrupted and the drugs began to go into the effect. The men who had lost all reason smelled the blood and went wild. Roars and howls sounded continuously and Ghosthand disappeared in the crowd.

Ten minutes later, all sound had vanished. Ganlu Courtyard had never been so peaceful and quiet in the decades it had existed. It was like a tomb, filled with deathly silence.

The only one still standing had been dyed red by blood. Lips trembling, he lit his pipe and took a deep breath before blowing out a puff of gray smoke. The drugs in the tobacco were ignited and entered his lungs with the smoke. It spread through his body, pushing down the pain from his wounds.

His shoulders, chest, back, legs and even head were dripping with blood. Some of the blood was from his enemies, some was his.

"I'm old, after all." Ghosthand sighed and furrowed his brows in pain. The dew in the night was heavy, and his rheumatism was acting up again. He had sprained his back while dodging a dagger earlier, and now he could barely walk.

Yes, he was old. Why would he deny it?

Deep down, he was a bit vexed. He was old now, so why did he have to be like the Butcher and turn his enemy's lair into a bloodbath? Not everyone was a beast like the Butcher and would not die no matter what…

He sighed and raised his bloodied eyebrows as he gazed around. "Silo? Are you still here?"

No one replied in the silence. In the shadows, Silo held his nose, almost suffocating himself. He quietly stumbled back, but he fell onto the steps and could not move again.

"I see you. Please stay there and don't move." Spotting him, Ghosthand's eyes brightened. He slowly moved toward the man.

There was still nothing where his right hand should have been—only an empty sleeve cuff. But blood had dyed the invisible hand red, revealing its menacing shape. It was like the realistic reflection of a nightmare or hell. That must be what death would look like if it was something solid. How superb must a killing technique be to reach such a terrifying state?

Silo gazed blankly as Ghosthand closed in on him. His eyes were hopeless, but in the end, relief appeared in the bottomless despair.

"Ha, so karma is hitting me today, is it?" Silo laughed, mocking himself, and his eyes became relieved. "Karma will come after committing many acts of unrighteousness. Bring it on!"

He yanked down his collar, revealing his chest. He was determined to face his death. "This is the logic behind karma, right? Everyone who sins must face the punishment from fate…"

"No." Ghosthand stuck his hand into Silo's chest and gazed at his seemingly relieved eyes. "Actually, there are people who are much more evil than you, but they lead happy lives. They'll die in happiness with a large family. Why do you want everyone to be unlucky like you?"

Silo froze. His eyes grew stormy. The forced "relief" had been shattered and his face twisted like an evil spirit. He glared at Ghosthand and opened his mouth as if he wanted to yell or snap Ghosthand's neck in the last struggle.

But then a soft crack sounded inside his chest. His body trembled and began spasming on the ground. Finally, he stopped. There was a short period of peace before the end of his life…but sadly, it was useless. He had wanted to die with some dignity, but sadly, death was death. There was no dignity involved, and he still died like a dog.

Under the moonlight, his corpse slowly stiffened. The dull eyes reflected the firelight he had personally lit. He had died with his eyes open.

The pale moon in the sky illuminated both the quiet cities and the rioting cities. The moonlight shone on the cold white marble palace, as well as the sheds that collapsed in the turbulent flames.

Strands of mist suffused the flames, like living creatures walking through the city. Mist floated above, covering the blood and deaths in cold whiteness.

Deep in the mist came a hoarse yet distant song. It was a mourning song for the sacrifice.

Highgate Cemetery was located in the Whitechapel area of downtown. Mist hung above the quiet and desolate land. The black iron gate of the cemetery was open, revealing the path to the world of the death. Gray-white tombstones stood haphazardly in the ground like tree stumps. Withered trees grew obliquely toward the sky. Everything was deathly silent.

The seabirds had brought seeds here from far away, and countless white flowers grew from the muddy decayed soil. Delicate petals surrounding a yellowish core and stained with dew swayed gently in the cold wind, like the last breath of the dead buried under the earth.

The Shaman, clad in a black ceremonial robe, stood among the tombstones in the mud. He gazed at the tomb before him and the shabby wooden coffin within it.

The corpse in the coffin was already cold, but it seemed to still be alive. The corpse's eyes were open, glaring at the sky as if he was prepared to pull out a knife and kill his enemy.

But his enemies had cut off his head, and he had died. However his companions had won and brought back his body.

"Everley." The Shaman pressed on the wooden coffin with a complex look of pity. His hoarse voice echoed in the graveyard, as if he was introducing this new member to the afterlife.

"He was my loyal subordinate and a heinous villain. He followed me until his death and never swayed. He was addicted to alcohol and violence. The man was neither a good husband nor a good father, and definitely not a good man. Now he's dead."

The Shaman extended his hand. He put the two coins in his hand on the pair of eyes still open in death. He paid the fee to cross the Styx River. Taking one last glance at the dead man's face, he bid farewell quietly. "Avalon thanks you for your devotion."

The coffin lid closed. The Shaman nailed it for him and watched as the dead man sank into the darkness to enjoy his eternal peace.

A new wooden coffin was carried up. Neither ferocity nor serenity could be seen from the dead face. He was just sleeping peacefully.

"Eric?" The Shaman looked at that face and said, "I know you. I can't believe you're dead too."

He wiped the dust off the victim's face in pity, and announced softly, "He was a small gangster of downtown, someone who played on both sides. He went with the flow and did a lot of things, but never succeeded. He once had the enthusiasm for doing big business. He couldn't wait to stand out among the people, but he spoiled everything. He achieved nothing in the end."

The Shaman put the coins on his eyes and whispered goodbye too. "May you find the meaning of living in your endless rest."

The coffin lid was closed and the Shaman took the hammer, nailing the "luggage" marked for the afterlife. The wooden coffin sank into the mire and disappeared.

-

A new coffin was brought in. This time, the Shaman could not help sigh.

"Silo, an Indian."

He looked at the twisted face with compassion, rather than sadness or joy. "We meet again. Let me send you off."

He smoothed the twisted features for the corpse, and whispered, "He came here sixteen years ago and the city did not reject him. In order to stand out, he sold illegal drugs and ran many brothels for a living. He had two sons. One of them died because of this, the other has been sent back to India. He did not dare to let his sons know what he was doing.

"In order to make money, he poisoned many innocent people, but his arrival also resulted in the regulation of illegal drugs. A small handful of people were spared. He deserved to die, but he was not the most evil. He was just a poor man who was stuck in the middle. He had given a lot to the city and once obeyed the rules. Unfortunately, he went astray."

The Shaman put the coins on Silo's eyes. He closed the coffin and nailed it shut for him. "Rest in peace. Your name will be remembered by Avalon."

The last one was a heavy iron coffin. The man with heavy armor in the coffin had already passed away. The deceased's body was broken as if he had been hacked by swords, burned by fire, and shot by arrows. But even in death, he did not give up the sabre in his hand. Heavy scarlet remained on the broken blade of the sword remained heavy scarlet. The blade shivered in the cold like a soul sighing.

"Basset Hound Werner, the leader of Asgard people, you died with dignity." The Shaman wiped the blood off Werner's face with a handkerchief and folded his hands on his chest. He looked at Werner's face as if seeing all the bravery and roars in throughout his life.

"More than a decade ago, he and his men came and replaced One-Eye. They sold their own strength, and robbed others for wealth. Avalon accepted him generously and gave him a place.

"He did not have any survival skills or an outstanding long-term vision. He never relied on friendship and only worshipped strength, following strength. He died without fear and was an excellent warrior. He could have made the city a better place. However…"

He put the silver coins on the dead man's eyes. His look was cold and regretful.

"He let down the city."

The iron coffin was closed and sank into the mire.

The Shaman turned back, looking at the coffins sent in from the other end of the white mist and the death resting in the coffins. Some were his friends while others were his enemies. Those who were not able to live under the sun had all died tonight and were buried in the darkness. They would forever be in the city's shadow. He would witness their deaths and give meaning to their meager lives, even if the meaning was light as a feather.

-

During the long funeral, Ghosthand limped behind the Shaman on a crutch and whispered something. The Shaman nodded to show that he understood. Ghosthand was silent for a moment before asking lightly, "Do we really not need to worry about the Asylum?"

"I told the Butcher to go and bring Alberto's corpse back, and he did it. That's enough. Someone else would take care of the rest," the Shaman said. "We only do what we must do."

Ghosthand nodded. He heard the Shaman's hoarse murmur.

"Ghosthand?"

"Yes?" He raised his head and looked at the Shaman's silhouette.

The old man gazed at the tombstones that sprouted from the mud. He seemed to be speak to himself or lament quietly, "We planted so many corpses this year. A lot of flowers will bloom next year, right?"

There was no response.

The clouds in the pure black sky were blood red with the reflection of the flames. Ashes flew in the hot wind. They rose into the sky and faded, vanishing. It was like fiery stars were rising gradually. The fire was at its climax.

On the street, the killing had reached fever pitch. In the fighting and attacking that had spread to every corner of the city, roars and wails rang in everyone's ears.

An eerie and strange chill was in the air, but it was covered by the burning flames. The vague laughter and chanting snaking around everyone's ears was replaced by the roars and screams, and then became too faint to hear.

Covered by layers of bricks, hundreds of meters underground, the glorious yet hoarse singing boomed like thunder. This was the final laboratory in the central security room.

The resounding singing and music echoed above the circular plaza. It rolled between the walls, rushed into the darkness above the dome and spread in all directions. The burning mercury flowed in the cracks between the bricks, forming secrete music notes and scores. The scores transformed quickly, warping like an asphyxiated snake.

"How sweet is the grace of god! Sinners as I have gone astray but have gone been led back, have gone blind but can now see again…" Above the designs, dozens of musicians clad in blood-red cloaks stood in the eye of the resonance. Their souls were connected as they sang the fallen hymn with fervor. Their eyes rolled as they chanted and sang. It was as if the song had ignited their nerves and they were immersed in the endless song.

It was a holy hymn and melody, but now, it was indescribably wild and ferocious. A tidal wave of aether rolled off their bodies, transforming into a hellish red light. Bursts of roars and rips came from thin air. It was as if the gate to hell was about to open and the demonic world would descend!

This was one of the twenty songs from the Codex Calixtinus. As an ancient record written by earlier saints, it was a treasure passed down through the generations of a certain sect.

Later, it was stolen by the followers of Satan during a war in the Dark World. Using Hyakume's power, all twenty hymns were tainted and transformed into satanic hymns!

As they sang the hymn wildly, fresh blood poured out of thin air. It was an immeasurable amount of red, flowing and converging from all directions. It formed a surging river.

The red tide covered the dome, the earth, and everyone's breaths; it overlapped and built up into an ocean of devastation. It was the blood that had been filtered and purified countless times—the vitality squeezed out of so many lives!

The tidal wave of blood surged in the air, seeming to create a giant vortex. Even the air around the vortex seemed to be warped.

"Red Eye, the Blood Path is about to be activated. Hurry up!" the masked Robin ordered outside the blood formation. He gazed at the light brewing inside the blood with fanatic eyes.

At the heart of the blood formation, the dark musician Red Eye consumed the immeasurable amount of vitality. The chanting leaving his mouth grew more and more hoarse yet shrill.

The vortex quaked.

Soon. It was soon!

The Blood Path would soon be activated!

The Robin chuckled and his figure melted into the darkness.

-

Boom! A burst of thunder boomed in the black clouds above the burning downtown. This was the natural phenomenon formed by the enormous flow of aether, but it was as if the gods above the clouds had been angered and were roaring.

A crack of lighting fell from the sky, hitting the tip of the Tower Bridge like a whip. The faces of the police turned white in fear. After the thunder ended, the sounds of crashing waves outside the city disappeared strangely, but the wind did not stop. The wind brought an eerie chill that made one's scalp numb and body shiver.

The thunderstorm had arrived!

The world seemed to hold its breath.

In this moment of suffocating stillness, the police officer at the Tower Bridge felt waves of uncertainty. They were so intense. Behind him, the clattering of hooves came from the darkness at the other end of the bridge. Dozens of metal wheels rolled over the tiles in the darkness, producing thundering noises and flying sparks.

They were carriages. At least an entire squad was rushing over from uptown!

The officer's legs began to tremble. He subconsciously looked in the direction of the messenger, but he saw no one—the messenger had been there a second ago! In his shock, the thunderous galloping neared.

"Halt! Turn immediately…" the guards at the other end of the bridge ordered angrily, but the carriages sped up abruptly. They rolled over the center of the checkpoint, crushing the fragile obstacle.

Like a nightmare in the dark night, the line of carriages crashed through the checkpoint, charged onto the bridge and galloped across the narrow lane, charging directly toward downtown!

The giant stallions were at least three meters tall and were large as demons. They pulled the carriages at a gallop. Their metal hooves shattered the green tiles, called up wind and thunder, broke through the darkness and obstacles, and charged toward the large gate without hesitation. It was as if the gate did not even exist!

"Are they crazy?" The police officer's face was deathly pale as he stumbled back. "Move out the way, move…"

Boom! The giant horses and carriages swept past him with a whoosh. The wild wind forced him to the ground. The din as countless metal wheels rolled over the ground sounded in his ears.

The line of carriages came like demons riding the wind. The checkpoints and obstacles in their path were all crushed. The carriages rammed directly at the steel bars locking the Tower Bridge.

The two stallions that did not seem to be made of flesh let out shrill whinnies. There was no fear in their black eyes as they went toward the obstacle before them, their hooves clattered against the ground like thunder.

And then came a furious shake that forced everyone to the ground. First, it was distorted, then it caved in, and finally it warped and broke down! Faced with the giant stallions' attack, the bars thick as an arm suddenly shattered. Metal shards flew and buried into the stone ground. The black carriages broke through the last lock and charged into the flaming downtown.

The police officer gaped as the large line of carriages crossed over the checkpoint brazenly. His mind was completely blank and dazed. There was only raw terror in his heart.

"Catch," someone beside him said and tossed something into his arms.

He looked down blankly and saw a head—it was the head of the royal messenger that had just been ordering them around.

His body shook and his lips quivered, but he could not even scream in fear.

"Don't be scared. He's fake." The man in a dark gray raincoat patted his shoulders. "His death has nothing to do with you."

"Fake?" The officer looked up in confusion. "But he had the royal em…"

His voice cut off because a silver emblem of a dragon's head was placed before him. The man in the dark gray raincoat shook the emblem. "Have you seen a real one before?"

The man took the emblem back. Reaching behind him, he grabbed the last carriage and flipped up, flying back and disappearing with the line of carriages.

In the last moment, the officer saw the raincoat flapping in the wind. The last bit of firelight illuminated the dark red emblem on the coat. It was a red dragon and a sword!

"The Royal Musicians?" the officer muttered as he gazed blankly at the carriages disappearing into the burning darkness.

In the darkness, the ghostly fleet rushed through the burning streets, ran over the struggling crowd, left a straight mark on the road, and charged toward the Arkham Asylum.

Finally, the two galloping horses halted before the burning building. The door of the carriage at the front opened. A man with a long beard clad in a gray raincoat descended. He stared at the asylum before him. Hearing the screams and someone chanting madly underground, he frowned.

"Everybody get off! Get ready! We haven't got an emergency order for so many years, especially an order from Avalon, next to the Royal Research Institute…This time, those psychos must be planning to report us to the Royal family." He shook his head and raised his voice, asking, "Where are the people at the scene? Where are they?"

"I'm here," a young man in a gray raincoat answered. The handsome man looked very elegant. He saluted Jerome and raised his grey eyes. "Long time no see, Mr. Jerome."

"Gavin?" Jerome was surprised. "I heard that you reached the Resonance level and joined the Royal Musician Division. It's unbelievable! I remember that you're only nineteen years old this year and haven't even graduated from the Royal Academy of Music yet."

"It's all thanks to my family's training." Gavin smiled. "I'm about to graduate and my teacher arranged me to join the Royal Musician Division to get some more experience. I don't count as an official member yet."

"You're close enough." Jerome nodded approvingly. "Three years ago, your teacher told me that you'd be a more promising musician than him, and now I see that he was right. Your father wrote to me two days ago that your brother Banner was also accepted by the School of Royalty. He's also a genius who doesn't lose to you at all. The Adrian family really has a distinguished heritage."

Gavin nodded. "Banner is much more talented than me. He's already at the Musician level. I'm just his elder brother, but our family has to rely on Banner in the future."

Jerome saw the pair of steel gray eyes and understood quickly. He patted Gavin on the shoulder. "This is not the place to catch up. Let's talk another day." With that, he motioned for Gavin to rejoin his unit, and turned to look behind.

Behind him, nineteen Royal musicians descended from the carriages and were waiting quietly. The leading musicians selected from the School of Royalty exuded powerful aetheric fluctuations. Some of them even had phantom beasts beside them. Their raincoats blew up and fluttered in the winds of the rainstorm.

"Gentlemen, you must've learned of the situation on your way here." With his back to the burning asylum, Jerome announced, "This time, we are going to destroy the grand blood sacrifice to Satan.

"Right now, there are at least ten musicians involved in this satanic sacrifice inside, including at least four dark musicians and a group of demons who have been transformed by them. Next, split into groups of three to carry out the mission. The remaining guard the entrances and exits as planned. Clear?"

"Yes sir!"

"Very well." Jerome nodded with satisfaction. "But before we act, there is one thing to keep in mind. No matter what the enemy is, don't show your mercy." His face was as cold as iron. "We weren't given a 'crusade order.' The order was 'extermination.' Don't leave anything alive!"

Behind him, the clouds above the Asylum burst and erupted with a suppressed roar. Underground, the suppressed hymns suddenly rose up, and a shrill voice echoed in the firelight, creating the shapes of countless demons.

Jerome lowered his head and looked at the aether ball in his hand. Through the reflection of the ball, his sight seemed to penetrate dozens of meters into the ground and landed above the quivering vortex of blood.

A hint of fury flickered in his eyes. "Go now, charge!"

-

Boom! Boom! Bang! The dome of the final laboratory shook violently. Cracks spread on the wall as rocks and dust fell in the air, dissolved in the blood, and disappeared.

It was the turbulence caused by the royal musicians breaking in from the outside. But now, nobody cared about those matters. The Blood Path was about to be activated!

In the solemn ceremony, Red Eye raised his voice. The shrill song guided the blood light, causing the huge vortex to shake and swirl wildly. Soon! It was soon!

He grinned in extreme ecstasy and a frantic song tore from his soul. The wave of blood rippled and collapsed toward the center of the vortex. Something metallic in the vortex clanged and solidified. Right in the center, it wavered like thick mist and gradually cleared.

Bang! With a quiet sound, all frantic singing was cut off.

In the silence, everyone stared madly at flickering vortex. The silhouette of a ferocious city was revealed partially in the white mist deep inside the vortex.

"It's activated?" Red Eye murmured. He burst into shrill laughter like a night owl. "Yes, the 'Blood Path' has been activated! We did it! Avalon's Shadow is ours now!"

All the musicians cheered wildly and, in unison, praised the glory of God, shouting madly. But amidst their praising, everyone's expression changed in the blink of an eye. They looked toward the vortex in disbelief.

Everything was thrown into deathly silence.

Soft footsteps came from the vortex. A vague shadow loomed, coming closer and closer…On the other end of the Blood Path, something was coming to this world from Avalon's Shadow.

The musician maintaining the whirlpool at the front could not help but gulp, his face bewildered.

Avalon's Shadow was a no-man's land forged by King Arthur's Sword in the Stone. When the mad king was still alive, it feasted on blood and turned the whole city into a demon territory. No one knew how many bodies were buried there or how many monsters lived there. But that had been hundreds of years ago…Was there anything still alive in the world behind that door?

Everyone's breathing grew heavier, their bodies tensed as they stared at the vague figure in the white mist.

In the silence, all that could be heard were the faint footsteps in the vortex. It came closer, closer, and closer.

Finally, the frightening figure was about to step out of the swirl and reveal itself. Everyone held their breaths and braced themselves.

The next moment, everyone saw…An indescribably arrogant gaze.

The eyes seemed to be gazing at dust, scum, worms, pebbles blocking the way, or something even more lowly. The pair of eyes looked at them, but the gaze clearly passed through those shallow and ridiculous bodies, and fell into the void. There was nothing that deserved to be looked at.

Its hair reflected the blood light, but had a metallic golden tinge. Its teeth were sharp, exuding a terrifying coldness.

It was a…

"Dog?"

Red Eye practically heard the sound of his jaw dropping.

Immediately, he was horrified and shocked. Was it an illusion?! What kind of illusion was this? He had fallen into an illusion without realizing.

Cold sweat rolled down his back, and he quickly added on a variety of effects, but he still could not find any clues. He only saw a pair of contemptuous eyes.

"A dog?"

"Yes, it's a dog …"

"Why would a dog come out of Avalon's Shadow?"

"Is it really a dog? Maybe it's some kind of scary monster?"

The musicians beside him could not help but discuss amongst themselves quietly. Their gazes on the vortex grew doubtful. Could it be that this vortex led to a dog kennel instead of Avalon's Shadow?

As everyone talked and pointed, that golden dog padded around the room like a king inspecting. After it found nothing interesting, its look became even more contemptuous. Finally, it stopped before Red Eye, squatted down, and looked up at him.

Red Eye was stunned, finding the situation a bit ridiculous. He pointed at the golden dog and stared at the people beside him. "Is it looking at me? I don't even know if it really is a dog…Oh!"

The last sound was a painful cry because the golden dog had opened its mouth wide and bit his hand mercilessly. The sharp teeth sank deep into the flesh, almost piercing through his whole hand.

The cruel pain spread from the wound. Suddenly, Red Eye could not feel his hand anymore. Then came a terrible pain, like being hacked by an axe. His knees wobbled and almost he almost collapsed. But he was now certain that this really was a dog. And it had f*cking bit him!

That dog shook its head like a human, spat on the ground and finally sneezed. It sounded like a disdainful snort coming out of its nose. Getting up, it turned its butt and went back to the vortex…

Did it mean that this place was too boring and that it would rather go somewhere else?

"You b*tch!" Red Eye's eyes had really turned blood-red now. He roared hoarsely, "You wanna die?!"

Suddenly, his arms twisted and squirmed. His flesh flowed like water, clinging to the deformed skeleton that was multiplying and lengthening. His arms turned into a black python in an instant.

Before the whirlpool, the dog turned back. Its eyes were still full of disdain and a scoff came from its nose.

Then the vortex trembled. A roar that shook whole room came from the darkness beyond the vortex, and the foul hurricane swept out of thin air. The vortex rippled and the darkness at the heart was torn apart. A black hand reached out, silently unfolding and covering the huge dome overhead!

The palm dozens of meters wide seemed to be made of ashes. The vague silhouette created by countless pieces of ash had only reached a hand out, but it was enough to fill the entire vortex!

A horrifying melody surrounded the hand of ash. It radiated with deathly aether. Everything in its path was ruined—the walls weathered, the ground separated, and there were cracks in the wind. Everything was destroyed by the hand in an instant! Reality was distorted!

Everyone's faces were white from fear. This extreme power was only a step away from the Scepter level, and every Resonance musician dreamed of having it, but this was only the strength of one hand and it had already reached this extent. What strange monster was it?!

Red Eye gaped as the hand rose clenched into a fist, and then slammed down on him! The only thing he could liken it to was the sky falling. A glob of meat then shot out from the black hand and splattered onto the nearby musician's face, eliciting shocked screams. The giant palm swept from side to side in the tight space. Black air heaved and grasped many musicians before returning inside the vortex. Painful cries came from the still vortex. It was the cry of falling into hell. The chilling noises of chewing sounded. Then all was silent.

The blood-red vortex continued to spin, but the hand and dog were gone. The faces of the survivors were still deathly pale. It had only been a single hand and yet half of them had disappeared in an instant. Even the mysterious Red Eye had died! Some people shook, already thinking of ways to escape.

"Don't panic. Stabilize the Blood Path!" the robin voiced.

The man with the strange mask had replaced Red Eye and stood at the center. "The Royal Musicians are going to be here soon. The most pressing task at hand is to solidify the Blood Path and take it…Red Eye, are you alive? If you are, then get to work."

"Recovering…now…" Beside the robin was Red Eye's remains. His body had been turned into minced meat. But in the meat, the half of his head that remained still had a single red eye open. His sigh was hoarse. "But I can't use this body anymore. What a pity. It's been three years and I've gotten used to it…"

The pile of ruined flesh burst into flames, sizzling with a destructive aura. The remaining half of Red Eye's head hovered in the air. It side-eyed the musicians who had never seen such a thing before and ordered coolly, "Let's start. There's not much time left. Perform the ninth movement of the Codex Calixtinus as a symphony."

The musicians swallowed and forced themselves to calm down as they obeyed. The aether began rippling again. Under the piercing hymn and melody, the Blood Path vortex slowly began to cave in. It released a blinding light, and the insubstantial state slowly solidified, but painful cries abruptly sounded amongst the musicians.

The musician at the very front suddenly stopped singing and began rolling on the ground in pain. He had clearly stopped, but his voice still continued. In that wild song, his body withered bit by bit. The vitality in his flesh and blood was sucked into the caving vortex.

A second musician followed, then a third, and a fourth…Terrified, the musicians wanted to leave the resonance, but they found that they had stepped into the quicksand. Even if they wanted to stop, the melody and wild aether inside them would urge them on, ravage their bodies, and force them to burn up the rest of their lives, pushing this satanic song to its climax!

Breath of Boiling Blood! This was a technique that the former Rain Artist had used before, but now it became the hidden trap in the music score. Other than the robin and Red Eye, every single musician was sapped dry.

Bits of light flew from the openings of the empty shells and converged before Red Eye. The light transformed into an ancient leather scroll. Lines of scriptures were written in blood, describing how to use life and fresh blood to hold the ritual and please the gods in exchange for the reward. It was the Codex Calixtinus! This was the copy created by the lives of sixteen musicians.

The robin turned to look at Red Eye. His eyes were eerie and cold, rather than angry. "Those are my men. Aren't you afraid I'll be angered if you just kill them like that?"

"They're just a group of cannon fodder that knows too much. Even if I didn't do anything, you'd take care of them too, right? But if I do it, the trash won't go to waste." Giving it no mind, Red Eye just glanced back at him with his single remaining eye. "Besides, my two brothers died because of you. You owe me."

"You better not ask for more." The robin looked away and raised his head toward the vortex in mid-air. It had solidified into a glow the size of a fist and was slowly descending. This was the sign of the Blood Path, created at the cost of the battle of downtown. From now on, he would be able to use this to open the Blood Path at any time and enter the dark, shadowy world. Under the mask, he revealed a faint smile and reached out to grab the ball of blood light, but in that moment, his body shook and his eyes turned fierce. "Who is it?!"

A chilling laugh sounded behind him. "You've worked hard." It was the Professor's hoarse murmur.

The alchemy equipment under the robin's long robe was activated immediately, forming layers of guards. He grabbed the ball of red light immediately after.

Red Eye acted immediately. He spewed out a green ripple that expanded in all directions. A black shadow was revealed in the ripple's path, despite nothing being there.

The Professor was revealed, but he did not hesitate at all. He sped up and charged toward the sign. His left hand reached out, grabbing the rim of light. His prepared right hand rose from his sleeve and pointed the silver flute at the other two. "I have a gift for you."

The music score within the flute was awoken. The icy melody burst out of thin air and instantly brought forth a freezing wave. Was he from the School of Modifications?

Red Eye's pupil moved. He flipped open the scroll before him, and the hymn sounded out of thin air. The pile of skeletons were yanked from the ground and dragged toward the overwhelming cold tide, but the tide passed through the wall like an apparition and it swept away everything except for Red Eye and the robin!

This was not Modifications—this was Illusions! Red Eye realized it immediately, but he was submerged in the hallucinatory melody. This was the trap that the Professor had set just for them! In an instant, layers and layers of frosty hallucinations surrounded him. A wind vane, a river of frozen tears, a Bodhi tree, a recollection, a ghostly fire, a spring dream, loneliness, a street sign, an inn…

Perfect "mental images" rushed into his mind one after another, invading his thoughts. There was the freezing winter wind, or the flowing icy river, or the frosted Bodhi tree, or the eerie, ghostly fire. Then it became a gentle spring dream and he felt so lonely…In an instant, his mind was torn to pieces. He had been swallowed by the hallucination without his permission.

This was Winterreise, written by Saint Schubert of the School of Illusions. In the freezing winter, it was like an endless dreamlike travel. This music score was not the most destructive, but even the most powerful musician would be trapped by the twenty-four cages. He would never be able to leave once he fell in. Red Eye was caged in by the illusion immediately, but it gave the robin a sliver of a second to escape.

The layers of guards around the robin burst and blocked the cold tide. Then, a black robin flew out from his pocket. The phantom beast had taken the blow from the illusion for its master. The pieces of consciousness in its mind had been killed by the hallucination, destroying the bird instantly. The robin, however, was unharmed. He had escaped from the trap that the Professor had planned for so long!

No one had expected the robin to be a musician from the School of Summoning! Sparks floated from his fingertip and flew toward the corpses surrounding him…When the sparks wormed into the corpses' noses and mouths, the bodies swelled up. Burning light could be seen under the skin, as if the blood and flesh had been ignited. In an instant, the corpses were nothing but empty bags of skin. A tidal wave of sparks surged from their pores, charging toward the Professor. It was a swarm of phosphorescent insects. It was harmless to dead objects, but it was the natural enemy to living flesh!

The Professor's movements did not change. He still charged directly toward the sign, not caring about the tidal wave of phosphorescence at all. Something rippled through the swarm, and a giant boom sounded. Light danced wildly as a burning figure ran through it all.

The Professor had pushed through the torture from the insects and used his demonic blood to fight against their gnawing. After sacrificing so much, he was only a finger's breadth away from the blood light!

The robin had miscalculated! Shock flashed through his eyes, but he quickly grew ruthless again. Gritting his teeth, he slid the ring off his forefinger and tossed it in the air. "If you want to take everything straight on, then try taking this!" he thought.

The ring flew toward the Professor. The inlaid ruby cracked soundlessly and turned to powder. An eye appeared in the crystal light of the gem's powder. It was the Fleeting Glimpse! Endless malice and wildness seeped from the single eye. It was practically tangible. The Professor shook as if he had been struck by lightning. His body stopped abruptly, and he quickly tried to escape.

Under the stare of the "eye," the Professor's palm shattered bit by bit, turning into a pile of deformed flesh. His entire body was tainted by the gray aura of defeat, and seemed to be close to toppling over. His shield was useless, his defense was useless, his caution was useless…Gazed upon by that eye, all defense was meaningless.

Even though the Professor had dodged it quickly, he had barely escaped being turned to ashes! If he was not powerful in both Mind and Illusions, he would have gone mad already and become a fanatic follower of the eye…

"The Eye of Satan!"

The Professor fell to the ground and broke his own left shoulder. The warped arm dropped onto the ground and started moving like a living thing, crawling around. It had become a dependent of Satan!

How did the robin have an eye from Satan Hyakume? This was a fleeting glance cast at humanity from the god that was responsible for sin and evil. It was enough to destroy any mortal being! In an instant, the tides had been turned.

"This was specifically prepared for you uninvited guests! How does it feel, Mr. Moriarty?" The robin began cackling as he looked down on the writhing Professor.

He reached out to catch the descending ball of blood light. As it was about to be in his hands, his smile became distorted in excitement. No matter how hard anyone tried, it belonged to him and would always be his! No one would be able to take it away from him!

"Wow, you're laughing so happily! Did something good happen?" a youth's voice suddenly rang in the darkness.

Boom! The entire laboratory shook as if a giant had smashed down his hammer. The air pressure changed dramatically, and a furious wind swept through all directions.

In an instant, the shaking sigh turned the dome to pieces, and the heavy shards fell to the ground, whistling. As the broken pieces flew, the wild mutants poured in endlessly from the darkness, charging toward the robin. Then the Vengeful Spirit descended from the sky, going straight for the blood-red sign!

"What a nice thing. It's mine now!"

Seeing that the descending shadow was about to steal his sign, the robin roared mournfully, "In your dreams!" As he roared, an endless wave of black birds flew from his sleeves. These black robins spread their wings and soared into the sky with angry caws. As the phosphorescent insects continued to dance, the robins were painted with a layer of firelight. The flames were ice blue and radiated with frigidity. Everything in the path of these cold flames, even the stone tiles, were turned to mud. This was what the phantom beast Robin truly looked like!

"Really?" Faced with the wave of robins, Ye Qingxuan opened his mouth and smiled. Between his teeth, the Crystal of Virtue glittered.

With a crack, he broke and swallowed half of the crystal. Then he gripped his cane and showed the gem on the cane to the robin. Lightning flashed through the gem, as if it was a projection of a thunderous world. "Do not turn the three realms into ashes!"

In the next moment, the black clouds over Avalon city resonated with his voice. The gods had been angered! Lightning poured from the cane like a tsunami. It swallowed the cold flames and transformed the entire laboratory into a hell of furious electric light. The extreme light and heat illuminated all the demons.

"Holmes!" The robin's expression changed dramatically, and he squeezed out the words from his mouth. "You b*stard…"

He charged forward, not caring that he was rushing toward destructive lightning. He was going to charge and take back his Blood Path sign, even if there was the risk of being turned to ashes.

The destructive light swallowed everything.

When the light faded, Ye Qingxuan was on the ground. Even with the Crystal of Virtue, the extreme blood loss still made it hard to breathe. On the other hand, the robin was burnt to crisp and badly injured. But he held the blood light in his hands. He had gotten the sign to the Blood Path!

"Haha haha!" Even though he had fallen to this sad state, he still could not hold in his laughter when he saw Ye Qingxuan. "You can try to take it but it's mine! Mine!"

"Really?" Ye Qingxuan chuckled and raised his hand, showing the robin what was in it. "Then what's this?"

The laugher cut off abruptly. The robin gaped at what was in Ye Qingxuan's hand and then back at his own blood light. What was this?!

Ye Qingxuan held a blood light identical to what the robin had! In the moment of fighting, the blood light had been split into two? The robin took one half, while the other was now Ye Qingxuan's! They split it equally?

"What the f*ck!" The robin could not accept this reality…F*cking why? He had worked so hard for five years, putting in mental and physical work, planning and strategizing, pressured by the Royal family and the Shaman's attacks. He had risked being caught by the Royal Musicians, and finally had hope for success…but now someone else had taken half the reward! How was this fair?! And he did not know if he could activate the Blood Path with just half the sign!

The bloody light finally dissipated in Ye Qingxuan's hand, revealing its true shape. It was a crystal clear ornament, like a conch carved from jade.

"You b*stard! Give me the sign!" the robin roared, gripping his half of the conch. "You think you're good enough to take my things?!"

"Of course. The treasures of the world belong to the virtuous!" Ye Qingxuan stuffed the conch into his pocket shamelessly. "This was my bench in a past life. It belongs in my pocket. Don't even think about taking it. And anyway, you dark musicians have wretched lives. Do you think you can handle it?"

"You—you…" Under the mask, the robin's face turned purple in anger. His vision had gone dark, and he felt the urge to cough up blood.

"Silence!" Ye Qingxuan interrupted, glaring at him. "You despicable demon, how dare you fight with me? Do you feel no shame?!"

"Good, good!" The robin cackled in anger. He listened to the commotion coming from afar, as well as the Royal musician's music, and his eyes hardened. "Even if you have half of the sign, you might not be able to keep it…"

Shrill music came from his broken sleeves, and the dying embers on the ground shook abruptly. Fiery blue robins jumped from the flames as if a gate had been opened. Hundreds upon thousands of robins flew out endlessly. They spread their wings, grouped, and swarmed toward Ye Qingxuan!

Ye Qingxuan's expression changed. He raised his cane to activate Indra's Eye again, but the surging fire suddenly shook and disappeared. The robin had vanished in the dissipating flames…He escaped?

Ye Qingxuan was stunned. He let out a sigh in relief, but he was still a bit upset. "Where's your courage?" he thought. "I saw you as a man and was going to fight to the death!" But then he realized what the guy had wanted to do. How could he forget? There was still trouble here…

He raised his head slowly and glanced at the one-armed figure. The crippled arm was regenerating from the flesh. Ye Qingxuan looked at the blood-red conch in his pocket and then at the sharp sword peeking out of the other's sleeve.

He sighed. "No way, more fighting?" The sword thrusted toward him!

-

"It's so funny seeing dogs fighting each other!" In a hidden room, the robin watched coldly at the fighting figures in the water mirror. He sneered. "I don't care if it's the Professor, Holmes, or those Royal musicians. They won't get it!"

"The sign was stolen?" The remains of a head trembled in his hands and shook off the hallucinatory frost. A bloody eye opened. Red Eye had escaped from the cage.

"Just half of it." The robin swallowed the expensive medicine and his burnt skin began to flake off, his flesh regenerating. He stared coldly at Red Eye. "What use are you if a mere illusion can trap you?"

"A mere illusion? That's the winter hell created by the Saint Schubert. In its full extent, it can leave a reflection in the aether world!" Red Eye said hoarsely. "If the Professor hadn't been defeated by the satanic eye, I would've probably died in there. I can't believe he has weaknesses like that. This guy's powers keep fluctuating…"

"Whatever." The robin's eyes were icy. "Awaken your spare body."

Red Eye was taken aback. Hesitation flashed past his eyes. "Are you sure?"

"Is there anything more important than the Blood Path sign now? Do you want those royal musicians to take everything we've accomplished?" The robin gazed at him gravely. "Awaken the spares and activate the praise ritual."

Under that stare, Red Eye hesitated but acquiesced. "…As you wish, my lord."

As Red Eye chanted quietly, the Codex Calixtinus opened slowly. It reached its peak in an instant. The ritual book that depicted the feast in Hell and chaotic killing had nothing in the end. There was only a black eye. It seemed to stare into the human world from a deep abyss. The messy sketch harnessed an immeasurable amount of wild darkness.

"The long night has arrived," he heard something murmur from the abyss.

In the final laboratory, swords brandished. The sounds of notes exploding came constantly. A thin nine-foot-long blade shot out of the Professor's sleeve and fell on the ground. Like a snake dancing, it weaved layers of dreamy coldness. The notes engraved on the blade lit up continuously, dazzling one's eyes and confusing them. If one became lost in it, one might shatter into pieces from one moment of absent mindedness.

"By the way, don't you think that I've improved a lot?" Compared to the pathetic escape last time, Ye Qingxuan dodged more easily this time.

With the reading and interpretation of perception threads and the modified "steel skeleton," he dealt with the blades and notes easily while trying to distract the Professor by endlessly spouting nonsense.

"Sorry. It seems that I spoil your plan every time we meet. But everything is gonna be okay, isn't it? Look at me. You played me, but I'm not angry at all. I even saved you just now. Since we're old friends, can't we just take a seat and have a talk?"

"Old friend?" The Professor scoffed. "Your friendship gives me insomnia…"

"It's okay. You friendless and eternally lonely people are always like this, I understand." A cold light flashed in Ye Qingxuan's eyes. "When I strip you and hang you later, we'll be best friends forever." With the swords intertwined, he took a sudden step forward and pounced onto the gorgeous cold light, as if embracing death.

The Professor's robe fluttered slightly, and the blade bounced like a snake. Dancing, it wrapped around Ye Qingxuan, layer by layer. It would then be tightened in a second and he would be torn to shreds.

At that moment, Ye Qingxuan raised his arms. The plain black armor on it glowed with burning red light.

Boom! The 'Sigh' had finally cooled down and unleashed a frantic quake once again! In a blink of an eye, it was as if a balloon had exploded. The bloody air suddenly swelled, forming strong wind pressure, and blowing in all directions.

The tornado swept by, flicking away the tightened blade. Ye Qingxuan's fingers tightened instantly, two fingers clamping on the drifting blade of the sword with perfect timing.

Shakes rushed into the nine-foot blade like a tide, causing it tremble crazily and crack bit by bit. This dangerous weapon, which required extreme skill to manipulate, was practically out of control under the high pressure from the Sighing Sword.

Under the hood, the Professor's pupils dilated and he stepped back. A gloating light flickered in the youth's.

In the next moment, the black river, which gathered countless feelings of resentment and hatred from the mutants, expanded under Ye Qingxuan's control. It was accompanied by a plaintive melody, suddenly winding toward the Professor. He had been waiting for this pause for a long time.

For a moment, the Professor froze. Ye Qingxuan let out a sigh of relief, but suddenly, a bout of dizziness attacked him. A memory surged from the depths of his brain uncontrollably. There was the snow, the burning huts and flames that evaporated his tears.

"Little Yezi, don't be afraid," someone whispered in his ear. "Don't be afraid…"

Ye Qingxuan's body stiffened, his vision darkened, and the feeling in his limbs and body was being sapped quickly. He finally understood that the blade and notes were just a cover-up. The Professor's true weapon was the melody produced when the blade vibrated! He had hid the music in the piercing scream!

But this stiffness was particularly familiar. Memories of guilt flashed constantly in his brain. He could hardly breathe, as if he was going to drown in the black river. Visual distortion, olfactory interference, body sensory deprivation, auditory control… This was…this was…this was Black Friday?!

It suddenly dawned on him. He gaped at the Professor before him. They were drowning in the black river they called forth for each other. Then, it was the same action again. They reversed the melody, undid the intervals and control, dispelled the effects. In the end, they got out of the abnormal state of mind at the same time.

Coincidentally, they attempted to attack first to occupy the upper hand at the same time, but were both forced back. They stared at each other with vigilance.

"Ye Qingxuan?" The Professor's voice drifted into his ear with the wind. "…It really is you?"

Ye Qingxuan's pupils contracted instantly. "Who are you?!"

The Professor was silent for a moment, and could not help but chuckle softly. "Who am I? Who else can I be? I am just a homeless demon."

He raised his fingers and lifted the hooded hood. The illusion of darkness dissipated and, for the first time, he revealed his true appearance.

At that moment, Ye Qingxuan heard the sound of his jaw drop. He almost thought that he was in another illusion. The criminal think-tank of Avalon, the shadow and demon musician of downtown, Professor Lord Moriarty…was a woman?

It was not a big deal that the Professor was a woman. What was unbelievable was that he had seen this charming and beautiful face before!

"This is the true face of the Professor. How is it, my 'old friend'?" On that slightly pale face, her eyes were like the shadow of the moonlight. They gazed silently at the youth before her, and her thin red lips curled into a smile of delight. One had to admit that she was indeed the most beautiful woman Ye Qingxuan ever seen in his life. Just a smile could make people distracted and unable to look away.

"How can it be you?" Ye Qingxuan muttered, but the misty illusion gathered again and recovered the face.

"I think we have more important things to focus on than this, right?" She sighed, looking toward the door of the laboratory. There, roars had gotten closer. The destructive melody played by the Royal Music Division was already clear in their ears.

The flames, rays, and frost of the School of Modifications tore through the layers of barriers, and kept marching toward the core. The fierce phantom beasts of the School of Summoning followed closely behind, killing all living creatures in their way.

The scent of blood in the air thickened as they killed everything they in their path. No matter if it was a mad mutant or an innocent doctor, all were taken care of in the same way. This was the so called "extermination order" given by the royal family, and this decree of destruction was only enacted to clean up polluted villages and towns. Appearing here today, the royal family must have really wanted to eradicate them.

"I'm starting to regret not killing you." She glanced at Ye Qingxuan. "Now it's too late to leave."

"There's eighteen of them." Ye Qingxuan emitted the perception threads to detect and had roughly pinpointed their location before the line was interrupted by turbulence. His eyebrows slowly furrowed.

That group of people was really cruel. They did not miss a single inch. It seemed there were Revelations musicians as the conductors as they were not affected by the complex crossroads or the dark surroundings at all.

The eighteen of them were divided into six teams. Each team leader exuded strong aetheric fluctuations. There were also three Resonance level musicians who had breached the Barrier of Knowledge. This lineup, enough to destroy a town, had scorched every inch of the place.

"I'm afraid there's more than that." The Professor shook her head and looked up at the shattered dome overhead. "The robin's people dared carry out a blood sacrifice in this Asylum, so I'm afraid they worked out the method to deal with the Royal musicians…"

Before she could finish her words, a drop of black mud fell from the broken openings of the dome. The thumb-size droplets of mud fell on the ground, squelching. Mud splattered on the ground, forming a palm-sized stain. But something seemed to be squirming vaguely in the stain. As if this were a cave that lead to darkness, a foul wind blew from the stain, bringing the wailing hymn.

This was the first drop, followed by the second, the third…until it began to fall like rain. The strange 'mud' quick seeped from, not just the cracks, but also the floor, and crevices in the walls…If this did not stop, they would soon have no place to stand!

"It has begun." The Professor's eyes grew cold. "The Elegy Memorial."