Translator: Nyoi-Bo Studio Editor: Nyoi-Bo Studio
Darkness.
Black clouds covered the sky like complex layers of lead overlapping, solidified in the sky.
Between the sky and the earth, a mighty city rose above the barren land.
Dim starlight came from somewhere, illuminating the city’s sharp turrets. But even in the darkness, it was easy to discern the high luxury and and dignity of the city.
Perched on a copper and black iron foundation, its body was made of white silver, with gold decorating its tip. Created by iron, it was a legendary miracle.
When sunlight passed through the sky, the entire city would bathe in the radiance of the sun—sacred but grave. But now there was no sunlight, and everything was covered shrouded by the darkness of the night.
Ye Qingxuan observed the city.
—
In the darkness, he saw the earth shake and rumble.
Blood-red light flowed through a crack, like blood seeping out from the earth under the city. It seemed to want to flow up and submerge it all.
The rumbling grew.
The mighty city shook as if something hidden under was about to be unearthed.
The sound of thunder arose, continuous like an avalanche. But the sound was unclear, like thousands of people wailing together.
Hell collapsed and Avīci1 called!
At that moment, the thundering seemed to explode. The rippling across the earth could be seen by the naked eye. Even the sacred city shook with it.
Quickly, a crack appeared on the iron wall.
It was the first crack.
—
The top of the city’s highest point, the place closest to the clouds, was also the darkest place. Someone looked down at the city from that point. Angry winds blew from the distance. The eye of the tornado enveloped this city. The storm wind blew at his robe, it fluttered loudly.
His cigar stayed lit, despite the wind.
He stood at the edge of the tall tower, looking down at the sacred city and the redness seeping from the ground, watching the earth shake.
“The third layer of the Wailing Wall has been breached!” someone reported behind the smoking man when a third sound rang across the skies and earth.
The pale secretary clung on to a pillar, his eyes full of fright. “Fifteen minutes ago, it had already entered the Sunrise Path, but the ‘Hell’ and ‘Purgatory’ left by Grandmaster Ding have already been destroyed. All that remains is ‘Heaven’.”
“Heaven cannot stop it.” The smoking man shook his head.
“The temple knights and anthem battalion are ready. They’re arming at the armageddon now.”
“What of the Holy Spirits?” the man asked.
The secretary listened with his eyes closed. Voice trembling, he replied, “Fire God Agni was hurt in battle and has fallen into a coma. Jupiter is waking up. The Wind God and Thunder God have entered the abyss. Hopefully, they can stop it.”
“It’s pointless. That is the Doomsday Dragon with seven crowns.” The man shook his head again.
“When it was sealed and confined by the three kings of the past, one-third of stars fell into the abyss with it. A double-bodied Holy Spirit is nothing to it. Send out the command, under the name of Nibelungenlied2—awaken all Holy Spirits.”
The secretary was stunned. Thinking of the consequences, he grew even more pale. “But if the Emperor Qing is angered again, the sacred city might…”
In the darkness, the man turned around and gazed at him like as if looking at a cowering idiot. “Then use a blood sacrifice and let him see the battlefield clearly.”
“…” The secretary’s lips trembled, but he could not speak.
“Even if he’s scared, he should be scared after the sacred city is destroyed,” the smoking man said lightly. “If the abyss under the sacred city is set off, the city won’t be the only thing destroyed.”
“Yes, my Crown” The secretary lowered his head. Mumbling to himself, it was as if the wind had carried his voice, sending it to the city below him.
“Also…” the smoking man suddenly said in the darkness, “notify all priests to get ready in the Bronze Hall. It’s time to start ‘Fate’.”
The secretary looked up in shock. But he only saw the man put out his cigar and push open the door behind him. At his waist, the sword, Gate of Heaven, shone with a cold light.
In the wind, his voice was like the ringing of a blade.
“Tell them, the Pope will personally join the battlefield.”
—
The world shook, and the overlapping melodies could not subdue the thundering.
The calling from Avici, nine levels under the ground, cut across the skies and earth. It pushed the black clouds, lightning brewed. The wild flashes of light were like an evil spirit’s whip, falling on the sacred city again and again.
The entire city bathed in the glow of the lightning.
A huge crack spread from the ground under the city, like an open mouth wanting to swallow it.
Ye Qingxuan stood above the crack, looked down, and saw the swirling flashes of metal within it.
It was the reflection of the Temple Knights’ formation.
Tons of heavy armor covered the bodies of these warriors. It was impossible to imagine that armor this heavy could be moved by humans. When they moved, it was unstoppable, like the Gaia giant in the Bible.
Now they numbered thousands upon thousands. All held their chains and spears over their heads as they charged into the darkness.
Along with the thundering footsteps, as the steel shoes hit stone, the music notes carved on the armor shone, and began singing sacred hymns.
This was the sound of Heaven. The Chorale’s power spread with a burning light. The light illuminated a huge eye.
Under the cracks of layers of seals was a beastly eye at least ten meters wide. It looked past the darkness and light into the sky.
For a second, Ye Qingxuan’s eyes met with it, and he felt as if he were spying at a beast from afar. An indescribable coldness poured into his eyes like a tide. He yelped.
Suddenly, a loud noise sounded, shaking the earth. The sacred city seemed to scream in distress.
Layers of metal were torn. Under its eyes, an indescribably heavy pressure spread out. The knights charging toward it were flattened by the pressure, their heavy armor clanging.
Very quickly, it was flattened by the pressure as well. Blood spurted out from between millions of metal shards.
Before the seal, the Hymn Battalion was almost completely wiped out.
In that moment, the singing from the Chorale was cut off. Their aether was out of control. The holy strength had been taken by the monsters in the seal and turned into a group of bloody crows.
The endless tide of crows flew from the darkness. Beating their wings and shrieking, they devoured the musicians.
“Woe!”
“Woe!”
“Woe!”
Countless wails suddenly emerged from the emptiness, like countless sinners singing together in Hell. Under the aether’s influence, the blood glowed and swallowed everything it touched.
This was the power of Catastrophe.
Four hundred years ago, the strongest Catastrophe that the Three Kings sealed—Doomsday’s Dragon—woke from within the deep abyss. It tore away the layers of seal, and was about to fly into the sky and pour bloody fire from its wings.
But just at that moment, white-hot light began to flow from the sacred city.
The sleeping dead in the holy temple, turned into Holy Spirits by musicians, were finally awake!
Like millions of stars, they soared to the sky!
In the Pope’s hand was the sword named Gate of Heaven. He pointed it at the abyss, and those spots of light fell, falling into the dark abyss.
Within the light, the awakened Holy Spirits. They raised their staffs, radiating light.
In the endless darkness, these spots of light were like weak candlelight in the wind. They lit up one after another, creating a halo that stopped the progression of the darkness!
In the abyss, the overlapping notes became a symphony, and an unimaginable strength rose from the dark abyss. The legendary music scores that could only be found in ancient literature appeared once again.
For a moment, Ye Qingxuan thought that the Doomsday’s Dragon was under control, but Avici’s call sounded once again from the abyss.
In the darkness, the angry red dragon opened its eyes. The seven crowns radiated with a terrifying blood-red glow.
The earth shook.
To Ye Qingxuan, time was no longer continuous. The world kept changing, and it was hard to see clearly. Endless light blinded him.
In the light, dragons danced crazily.
—
For a moment, everything was silent.
The world froze.
Ye Qingxuan turned around in confusion and saw a silhouette at the peak of the sacred city.
Endless aether light guarded him, illuminating his stern expression. He reached out and pressed down on the empty air. The entire city lit up as if finally awoken.
The black clouds shrouding the city were ripped apart. Starlight fell from the sky, shining upon the deadly battlefield.
In the abyss, the Doomsday’s Dragon kept growling, roaring wildly, as if sensing that something terrifying would arrive soon. In this frozen world, everything was locked in the cage. No one could stop what was about to happen.
“Fate?” Ye Qingxuan murmured, watching the silhouette.
Then the Pope lowered his hands, and it sounded as if the world had shattered!
The sky shook. The chilling crack started from the east and fell toward the west, cutting across the night sky. Starlight and moonlight disappeared, turning into a dark vortex.
The starry sky disappeared, as if it were being rolled up like a rug. God radiated fatal light from above the twisted sky.
Ye Qingxuan could not see anything.
He could only feel the continuous resonance beside him, but a human’s eardrum could no longer stand that terrifying sound.
When the first sound of stars crashed, his senses had already been shattered. Everything had turned into a hopeless nightmare. The world was at the brink of collapse. The ground had turned to coal, tar and fire burned into the sky.
Everything was on the path to destruction…
In the end, all that was left was a shattering sound, as if the monster was chewing on the remains of the earth.
—
Ye Qingxuan woke up from his terrifying nightmare in shock. He opened his eyes wide, panting.
Screams continued by his ear.
“Ah! Help! Someone help! Catastrophe! Catastrophe!”
Continuous screams sounded in the classroom. Hundreds of students woke up from nightmares. Their faces were chalk-white as they tried to remember where they were.
As the hallucination dissipated, the professor drinking black tea at the podium looked up. He gazed down at the frightened students.
“What you all saw was the Battle of the Abyss from three hundred years ago,” he said. “This is what I will teach you in the first class—the endless war between humanity and catastrophe.”
1Avīci Niraja means “Hell” in the Sanskrit language.
2Nibelungenlied is an epic poem from Middle High Germany. It tells the story of the Burgundian dragon-slayer Siegfried.
