Translator: Nyoi-Bo Studio Editor: Nyoi-Bo Studio
Although a catastrophe could not be developed, one-third of the core had allowed Ye Qingxuan to take a peek into the deeper levels of the Ultimate. There were countless music theories that were constantly changing. It was just like looking at the dust in the ocean through a prism. Under such a terrifying scale that was so immense it was borderline impossible, Ye Qingxuan truly felt miniscule.
To any musician, this was a rare opportunity. A catastrophe had completely revealed its core music theory for him to observe and refer to, and this was more effective than being taught by any of the best mentors. Especially with Jiu Xiao Huan Pei in his hands, the level of sensitivity of Ye Qingxuan’s perception was so astounding that it allowed for the recurrence of any detail in the entire process.
Ye Qingxuan managed to gain plenty of knowledge within a short period of four days but it was not without its limits. With regard to the knowledge he could gain on the Distortion level, he was already at the peak. If he still did not become a Master, he would have missed a great opportunity. His situation was just like a mouse that could not possibly finish consuming all the grain in a granary. This was as far as Ye Qingxuan could go, in terms of his level of observation and abilities. It was painful to know that it was so near, yet so far. At the end of the day, the problem still lied with the Symphony of Predestination…
“I refuse to believe that I’m unable to write a simple Symphony of Predestination!” Ye Qingxuan was furious and placed the shard of the stone plate to one side. He picked up paper and pen and began to write furiously. After ten minutes, he finally stopped and took a look at what was in his hands. A flame started and he threw the movement into the fire without any emotion. In the end, he sighed helplessly.
Alright, he really failed to write anything. If only there was a template or a correct answer to be found, but of all things, he was most clueless about creations like this that could not be bound. Everything he wrote could just as easily be either right or wrong. How to start, how to end, what would the rhythm be…
Everything was shrouded in a mist of confusion. No one could tell Ye Qingxuan what he should do. This was not a test so there were no structure or rules. He sank into deep thoughts. This time around, the amount of time he took to think was far more than the combined amount of time he took the past few days. Ye Qingxuan sat on the broken steps as if he was in a daze, and would not react even when he was spoken to.
Ye Qingxuan remained unmoved even when dinner time came. Too many things had happened to him, so all the Masters were already used to it. It wasn’t until late at night that Ye Qingxuan finally raised his head again. His neck was so painful that it felt like it had been broken in two. He has stayed in the same posture for too long so his entire body was rather numb now. He sighed before asking for clean water to wash his face. He had regained his spirits.
Mable took a look at him and was no longer worried. “Have you made some headway?”
“Yes.” Ye Qingxuan was devouring his dinner. The food might have been cold and hard and even caused slight pain being digested in his stomach, but he felt a wholesomeness of life. Finally, he made up his mind.
“Since the orthodox way doesn’t work for me, I will just have to continue down the unorthodox path.” He had finally thought things through.
Creating had never been his strength as all of his talents lied in the areas of operation and integration. Expecting him to play the role of a trailblazer was probably a bit too much. He finally acknowledged this and decided to give up completely. His weaknesses were not something that could be covered up with simply more effort. Rather than trying so hard to cover up his weaknesses, he might as well focus on improving his strengths.
Just like how he had been doing.
From the very beginning, he has always been that scribe. As long as there was a correct answer to be found, he would be able to fill it in with no problems. But writing poems had always been something that he struggled with. Therefore, he decided to return to this old path and continue copying, even for the Symphony of Predestination. If he could not create a Symphony of Predestination, then so be it. If he did not have his own, then he would copy others and turn them into his own.
He already understood how the music theory of the Ultimate would determine ‘external forces.’ Anything that he would not be able to implement his will and consciousness or fuse with himself would be considered external forces. In that case, the Ultimate actually provided him with an opportunity.
It had given Ye Qingxuan a reminder. All this while, he always thought that he had been utilizing these abilities to perfection. He never considered the possibility that there were other issues that he had not discovered all along. Therefore, he decided that he might as well make full use of this opportunity to solve them. Just as Ye Qingxuan was still pondering, he suddenly realized something unexpected.
If the trinity Symphony of Predestination did not belong to him, then so be it. After all, the three parts came from the three people that made a huge impact on him. But what surprised him was that all the music theories that he has left behind had all come from the ‘way of deciphering.’ In other words, the Ultimate was treating the way of deciphering as a part of Ye Qingxuan.
Actually, it did make some sense. Although the way of deciphering was passed down from Abraham, he was unable to pass down the real way of abstinence to Ye Qingxuan due to the former being restrained by both the military and the covenant with the Sacred City. As a result, he had no choice but to dismantle and break down all his knowledge into bits and pieces before guiding Ye Qingxuan into discovering them for himself. Finally, the way of deciphering would be the key to piece everything back together again. It was just like what Hyakume did to Ludovic. In the process of Ludovic becoming the former dark pope, who knew when he being ‘Ludovic’?
Ye Qingxuan never imagined that there would come a day where he would have to apply Hyakume’s method to solve his own problem. In other words, even the solution was copied from someone else. Interesting. The reason why Ye Qingxuan deemed the way of deciphering to be of the utmost importance was also because it was something that he was most familiar with.
Abraham was a genius because of one reason—he was the first person in history to operate a music theory by removing ‘I’ from it. As a result, it would no longer be limited by one’s will. Instead, it would carry on all the way until the very end. It would not involve any emotion or perception that could affect the observation and usage of aether and music theory. It would not require humans to use aether. Instead, the aether would develop, transform, conclude, and discipline itself all on its own.
Ye Qingxuan truly thought that this was the true path of the School of Abstinence. Now that the solution had been found, time had suddenly become tight.
Ye Qingxuan did not intend to dive straight into copying. There were techniques to copying too. Since he had plenty of templates, he decided to prepare sufficiently first before beginning.
“Master Auden,” he raised his head and waved to Auden, “give me paper. Give me plenty of paper.”
There was a pained expression on Auden’s face. “Don’t treat my music theory pages as some draft papers…” He unwillingly took out the last roll. These were special alchemy papers that he had bought for his music theory. One piece of paper alone cost as much as black-gold of the same weight, and the scariest thing was that the supply of these papers was very low. Creating a sheet of paper would require one month of a craftsman’s time.
“Good resources must be used for important reasons!” Ye Qingxuan casually took the papers and began to start writing on them. Auden rolled his eyes and turned around as he could not bear to look. Ye Qingxuan never stopped writing and was almost like a machine, as he spent only a few minutes on each page. Within a short half an hour, he had already used up more than half of them.
The pages were flimsy when they were first handed to him but the moment they left his hands, they seemed as if they weighed a ton. When they were placed separately on the ground, each piece would create a rectangular-shaped depression on the ground. When the surrounding Masters saw this, they became extremely interested and began to whisper to each other about what they thought Ye Qingxuan was doing.
This was what made music theory pages so precious. They could demonstrate the nature of music theory in a very direct manner, recreating the attraction of the music theory to perfection. As a result, quite a number of musicians and alchemists would draft on these papers when they were deducing movements or creating alchemy equipment respectively. If the papers could not even present the music theory, then there was no point testing it out.
But now, almost no one had ever seen something like this before. A brick made of black rock that had never cracked for centuries, yet now it was cracked because of a piece of paper! No one had any idea what music theory Ye Qingxuan had written on it.
“No clue at all.” A Master took a glance at Ye Qingxuan. Although this was what he said, his eyes were completely averted from what Ye Qingxuan was writing. How could anyone just take a look at something like a core music theory? The consequences would be much more severe than being caught staring at the posterior of a lady. One might still be forgiven for being caught staring at the posterior of a lady, but if it was a core music theory that has been seen… apologies, only death awaits.
Even Ye Qingxuan, who was being bounded by the strict clauses of the contract, had to make use of the duplicates of the Religious Court of Inquiry’s secret music theories to exchange with various Masters for the incomplete music theories from various Schools for research purposes. When the Master said that he had no clue, he meant that he had no idea what Ye Qingxuan was thinking, and not necessarily that he had no idea what Ye Qingxuan was writing.
The Masters were already used to this and someone even shrugged. “Who knows, what’s the difference between a lunatic and a genius?”
“It’s the 27th piece!” A Master, who had been keeping track all this while, muttered. Exactly how many heavyweight music theories did Ye Qingxuan have in his possession?
At this moment, some of the Masters who had been unwilling to hand over their music theories were finally convinced. If one only had a basket of eggs that had been passed down from one’s ancestors, one would defend it fiercely with his life if someone was trying to take it away. But if they were to realize that that person did not really care about their basket of eggs, except to take a look at it out of curiosity, they would start to have mixed feelings. Compared to Ye Qingxuan, everyone else on the scene had to be considered poor.
Now, in front of this Chief Inquisitor, who else would still dare to claim that their own Schools possessed a deep heritage and a long history? If they were to take out the core music theories of their Schools, they might not even be half as heavy as any piece of paper that Ye Qingxuan had written on.
By now, Ye Qingxuan was past the point of caring about the feelings of the Masters. He was fully engrossed in this excitement that had been a long time coming.
Keep pushing! Keep pushing!
Translator: Nyoi-Bo Studio Editor: Nyoi-Bo Studio
The Jiu Xiao Huan Pei’s Heaven Ladder music theory, the quiet moon’s Wyrmrest enchantment, Hermes’s stone of sage, the Inquisition’s purifying music theory, Abraham’s catastrophe resonance… He listed out everything that he had learned on the paper. He did not leave out anything, not even the Genesis music theory nor the music theory that had been passed down from the Masters. By the time he was finished, even a blind man could see that he did not intend to create a normal Symphony of Predestination.
Why would someone go through so much trouble just for a general Symphony of Predestination? Combining any three of these would already be enough to create one of the most powerful Symphonies in the world.
But Ye Qingxuan did not plan to stop yet.
He had already made up his mind.
Since he had to copy them, he was going to copy them all!
He would copy out new ideas, new harmonies, new worlds!
Besides, since ancient times, no one had decreed that a Symphony of Predestination must look a certain way. Everyone’s core music theory was wondrously different, so much so that two students of the same School taught by the same teacher could turn out completely different.
So there was nothing strange about doing it this way.
Ye Qingxuan had simply decided to make a great one.
Since there had never been one like it before, he would simply have to make it so good that no one would ever be able to surpass it!
…
Two days later, outside the Ultimate, the navies of the various nations were still in the same place, guarding against each other. Several clashes had already taken place over the last several days. The various factions had tried their best to work together and avoid meaningless fighting, but the situation was still as tense as a taut string, and at some point was sure to snap under the immense pressure of martial symphonies.
Everyone was paying close attention to the situation within the Ultimate.
Over the past few days, long, drawn-out movements had rung out from the ancient cities. Although they had no way of detecting what was happen inside, the changes were clear for all those outside to see.
The vast stream of aether still enveloped the whole area, making it impossible for anyone to get closer. They could only make inferences from the faint changes that came in the wake of the flow of aether.
A catastrophe was clearly being born. But the circumstances were extremely abnormal. But apart from the astonishing changes of the first two days, the ruined city had been shrouded in silence for the rest of the time. The transformations had become incredibly slow, so slow that it was almost impossible to bear it.
It was like a difficult birth.
And far away in the Sacred City, under the Central Holy Cathedral’s Nebula Monitor, Archbishop Albert was nodding off, with a bit of drool running down his chin. From time to time, he would lift his hand lazily to wipe away the dribble, glance at the monitor, and then close his eyes again and go back to sleep. Unfortunately, the injured half of his face had not healed right. The muscles were bare, giving him a hideous appearance.
After a while, he had slept his fill. He opened his eyes and saw the figure standing next to him. A red-robed member of the College of Cardinals stood silently under the Nebula Monitor, staring intently at the flashing light that represented the Ultimate.
“Are you awake?”
“I’ve slept enough.” Albert wiped the drool away from his mouth, rubbed his eyes, squinted at the figure, and raised himself up. “When did you get here? Why didn’t you call for me?”
“I just got here. You were sleeping so soundly, I didn’t want to wake you.” The old bishop shook his head and looked away from the Ultimate. “How long has this been going on?”
“More than a week,” Albert said listlessly. “Can a catastrophe have a difficult birth? It’s not like the guys working for us are midwives, but even they are getting nervous.”
“Giving birth is a skill too.” The old man shook his head. “There’s no need to worry.”
“Sounds like you’ve got some experience in this area,” Albert laughed.
“Mm, yes, I do.” The old man sighed softly. “In my early years, I served at a small church in the South. There were two doctors in the town, but one was only responsible for cutting hair, and the other for bloodletting. Sometimes people couldn’t find a decent midwife and had to come to the church for help. The women there married early. Becoming a mother at 16 was considered late. I saw many difficult births. Giving birth is gambling with your life. Sometimes I would have to go make home visits with the priest. And sometimes all of our skill was useless, and we had to make a choice…”
“Let me guess.” Albert rubbed his chin and smiled. “Save the child or save the mother?”
The old bishop shrugged.
“Which would you choose?”
The old bishop did not answer, and they dropped the topic.
The two of them did not speak. There was a long silence.
After a while, the old bishop raised his head from his meditation and said softly, “Let Chopin send out a signal before it’s too late. A long delay means trouble.”
Albert wasn’t smiling anymore. “Are you sure?”
“Sometimes waiting is no use. It will only bring pain to both parties.” The old bishop’s eyes were peaceful. “It’s always best to be decisive.”
A letter of attorney signed by the Sancta Seda was placed in front of Albert. His eyes twitched slightly. He sighed and waved his hand. The sound of a mighty organ rang out from above the Central Holy Cathedral, echoing throughout the steel city. Thousands of clock towers began to chime, and the echoes spread out in all directions.
As he listened to the bells, Albert seemed to be exhausted, and he slumped down in his chair, shaking his head. “Sometimes I really envy you people who can make up your mind.”
There was a hint of irony in his tone. The old bishop shook his head and smiled bitterly. “Do you know how I used to solve the problem of difficult births?” The old man mimed administering an injection. “A shot of oxytocin would make everything alright.”
Albert was shocked.
“Albert, I was never the one who made the decision. Who could be so brave?” The old bishop patted his shoulder and turned to leave.
“Whether the mother or child would survive, that was up to God.”
Amid the silence, there was only the sound of his retreating footsteps.
Albert said nothing. He closed his eyes again.
…
Ye Qingxuan awoke from a dream.
He had not dreamed in a long time, but he had just had a nightmare. He had dreamed of being buried in an ocean of music theory. But when he awoke, he saw thick stacks of books and papers all covered in his handwriting. He didn’t know many how many times he had edited them or how many movements he had added.
And in the corner sat a trembling old nun.
He heard the sound of bells ringing in the distance.
As if there was some secret signal or command in those bells, the old nun began shivering harder. She fell on the floor and looked up, with her eyes rolling back in her head. It seemed like she was having a seizure, but epileptics did not have such a strong fire in their body.
It was like a furnace had been ignited.
The flame lit up the whole dark temple. Waves of aether as powerful as a hurricane swept out from her body, emanating in all directions.
The Masters all woke up and looked at the old nun in shock. Even though they had already experienced the full power of the Saint, at that moment, with Schubert in full force, they felt a crushing pain.
At that moment, they finally realized the gap between them and the Saint.
A gap like the distance between heaven and earth.
Schubert’s music theory crashed around in the body of the old nun, with almost enough power to destroy herself. She cared for nothing, not even herself.
In that roaring song of self-destruction, Ye Qingxuan heard the nun’s last prayer: “Dust to dust, mud to mud, ashes to ashes…”
May God have mercy on my soul.
