Silent Crown

Ye Qingxuan felt like he was burning.

It was as if there was a massive sun rising directly over him. A frightful heat emanated out from the music theory, cruelly destroying everything. Even the Masters standing many paces away felt the great pressure.

Especially the three Scepters among them. The elements that had just come together had already cracked. If this continued, their Scepters would be completely crushed by the power of the Saint. They may not even be able to protect their Symphonies of Predestination.

Orlando was the first to be affected. His face went deathly pale.

The accomplishments of man are insignificant, for they will seep away…

His Scepter had just formed, and was far from being completely coalesced, so its structure was still very fragile. If it received another impact like the one it just had, it would probably be completely destroyed. What surprised him was that even at such a great distance, this indirect pressure was still so tremendous. What kind of hell was Ye Qingxuan experiencing up ahead?

Ye Qingxuan could hardly bear it.

But this kind of feeling was quite familiar to him…

A power thousands of times greater than his own pushed down on him. An ordinary person would have already been completely crushed. But he was still able to walk across the steel wire, although he had to pay a terrible price to do so.

Snap! His skin began to crack, but it gave off a sound like porcelain being smashed. The sound of snapping strings rang out without stopping. The core in his hands was as hot as a soldering iron. But he unwaveringly pressed down on the old nun’s forehead, and his senses sank deep into the core.

He faced an ocean so vast it seemed endless.

This was Schubert’s inheritance.

Under that powerful Scepter’s influence, numerous and complicated music theories created aetheric fluctuations as they played a silent, symphonic melody.

St. Schubert’s inheritance itself spanned the seven systems, but there was order in the chaos. From beginning to end the melody always came back to a single theme, linking in thousands of ways.

It was like the changes of the heart, as formless as water.

Besides the modifications, the chorales and the abstinences, even the schools of magic had achieved unparalleled results. The 24 movements “Winterreise,” with the nimbleness of its modifications, its universality and classicalness, had established a new path for the schools of magic, with many new schools being created. Among them, it was “Die Nebensonnen” that led to the creation of Ye Qingxuan’s school of magic.

Besides the feeling of tremendous separation and pressure that it gave Ye Qingxuan, the strongest sensation that he had when listening to it was… distance. It was clearly coming from close by, but it seemed as far away as the heavens. It was difficult to ascertain its melody, to touch its essence, to follow its changes.

This was true talent, completely different from that of a copyist like Ye Qingxuan. It was the mark of a Master who was cherished by the Great Originator.

Completely detached from surface-level temperature or substance, it achieved the true essence of modification. It was not limited by anything. It leaped over any obstacles, pierced through the fog, and reached its destination. It was like a soul that had grown wings, flying up into the sky and overlooking the mortal world.

There was no need to strive to understand it. It was like a natural stream, clear and without any sediment. Those who were limited by material and talent could only look up at its ever-changing form. No matter how high a peak they climbed, they could still not reach it.

Even though it was inherited music theory, it still carried a completely natural poetic quality. Because of this, it was extremely difficult to pass down. Even if it was sealed in the body of a mortal, it was still difficult to reveal its true power.

Those who failed to understand it could not wield its power, except for in the most rigid applications. And that would be like showing off a caged bird. Birds belonged flying freely in the sky.

Was that why the Church had so decisively abandoned it?

But now, just this rigid application of the power had put Ye Qingxuan into such a terrible fix.

It was the highest level of music theory in the Holy Cauldron, located in the deepest part of the realm of aether, even projecting into the Great Originator. Every move, every action was enough to set off a terrible storm.

All of the Masters coughed up blood at the next shock.

“Your Excellency, please make a decision quickly!” Orlando could not help but urge.

“I know! Don’t push me!” Ye Qingxuan’s voice was hoarse. His situation was much worse than Orlando’s. Half of his body was already shrouded in flames as if a fire had been kindled around him. That was the illusion produced by music theory seeking after matter, but the true threat was much greater than the flames.

Once Ye Qingxuan failed to maintain his balance, the fire would burn him in an instant, leaving behind not even ash. And soon after the 21 Masters would follow him, all destroyed by Schubert.

The strings of the Jiu Xiao Huan Pei became lines of thought and entered into the music with difficulty. Ye Qingxuan intuitively understood that this was completely out of the ordinary and that this power had no fixed pattern to speak of.

It was a brutal assault and mental torture, but it was also the best way for him to learn.

When you took a beating, you learned how to fight.

He finally understood why his Symphony of Predestination was judged to be a foreign object-even though it had been connected and merged with the clothes of original sin, it was still not his. It was not his at all.

That was the soul of the movement, the vital “spirituality.”

Charles had once told him that a good movement was alive. It was not just chosen by a musician but chose a master for itself. That was what he lacked most, and Schubert’s Scepter had opened the door that had been closed to him all along-how to integrate the three parts of the trinity into one.

Although it was also known for its modification, Schubert’s power was very different from Paganini’s. Channeling Music Theory could even disguise itself and simulate other forces, but you would never be able to change its essence.

The Scepter was the self, and the Symphony of Predestination was the soul.

Paganini regarded everything as a tool. He refused to change himself, and would not allow anything to shake his essence. He thought that everything had been provided solely for him, which stemmed from his deep-seated arrogance.

And Schubert was just the opposite.

The spirituality hidden in music theory was always changing.

Like the morning dew, the sunset, the billowing ocean, like the revolutions of the stars… She was like a poet chanting about the world, discerning its essence from the appearance of everything in it. She transformed herself into a part of the cycle and transformed the cycle into herself. Even though she was imprisoned inside matter, inside a body, just like a bird trapped in thistles and thorns she could still sing.

“I am everything…” In his trance, Ye Qingxuan’s consciousness was immersed into the music theory, following the spirituality of the movement’s changes. He was like a formless spirit, soaring between heaven and earth.

Rumble! A low noise emitted from Ye Qingxuan’s body, and he began to blur. His skin and muscles looked transparent, and one could see the rushing silver streams of his blood vessels.

And then, even these streams disappeared.

He was restored to his original form but seemed not to sense anything, as if he were actually far away from his body.

Nearby, Auden looked on dumbfounded. He frowned, and then his eyes bulged out and his mouth opened so wide that his jaw nearly dislocated. The other Masters followed suit, as they one by one felt Ye Qingxuan’s circumstances from their connection with the Jiu Xiao Huan Pei, and fell into a panic.