91 Death of Moon Chan (2/2)
”There is only one person in the entire world who could create something like that with his Symphony of Predestination—only one!”
”—Moon Chant.” In the commotion, no one knew who had uttered the name that seemed to represent disaster. Silence fell over the room. Shaken by the seemingly graceful name, their eyes gazed around helplessly.
In the silence, the pelican spread its wings, pushing down the panic in everyone’s eyes. He said, ”When he fled, he destroyed all of his own records. Nobody today can remember what he looks like. Are you sure you didn’t kill the wrong person?”
The owl beside him added, ”And it’s not uncommon for a musician to return his soul to another body.”
”I’ve heard that some musicians can turn into rats…”
The vulture said, ”It’s not impossible for him to have escaped.”
”Yes, I’ve heard that musicians can crawl out of their graves after death…” The birds lapsed into chaos again.
”Everyone, stop kidding yourselves!” This time, the white raven suddenly spoke in his stern voice, cutting everyone else off. ”By the rules of fate, everything must die. There is a limit to man’s power, and he must obey such boundaries. ‘Fear the aether, for only the Originator is eternal,’ this has been the vow for all musicians since the Dark Ages. Have you all heard of it before?” He observed his shocked companions and said mockingly, ”Have you all been reading too many novels? Everyone moves toward death the moment they are born into this world. It has been arranged so by fate, and nobody can avoid it. Once someone dies, he will not come back. How can a corpse climb out of its grave? To return his soul to another body? Since when has mankind had something as luxurious as a ‘soul’? Even if we have had it, our ancestors must have sold it to Satan thousands of years ago.
”He turned into a rat? Nonsense! If it were possible, then the law of conservation of mass from the School of Modifications would be wrong. Who knows how many people will die from the recoil of their music? Don’t be misguided by the paganist Newton. He isn’t even a musician! He was just a lunatic who was hit on the head by an apple! Moon Chant is dead. This is the truth!”
”Hmph, who knows if Moon Chant has a hidden card or not,” the vulture muttered. ”There’s no lack of methods for longevity.”
The white raven huffed, ”Longevity is not immortality!”
”But the Pope…”
”Enough!” the white raven roared. ”Are you so high up in our mundane world that you dare to question the gods?”
”I don’t dare, but don’t forget what Moon Chant was doing in the Royal Institute of Research!” the vulture refuted. ”We still don’t know how extensively he researched the forbidden topics. Before he fled, he had erased all records and wiped the memories of every related person. Anyone who interacted with him before has forgotten his existence. After all these years, all we know is that he was an Easterner!”
”And anyway, did someone really kill him?” The owl said, ”Even if the lunatic Maxwell wasn’t willing to fight him, the royal musicians were helpless against him too. Even Gaius lost half of his men when he tried to capture Moon Chant personally!”
”That’s right! Gaius betrayed us after that mission. We still don’t know what secrets Gaius learned.”
”I knew that Rumulusians couldn’t be trusted! The Pope had bestowed so much power upon Gaius, but he betrayed us at the most vital moment, bewitched by an Easterner!”
”Revolutionary army? Those d*mned traitors! I bet Gaius and Moon Chant were in on it together that entire time…”
”But what should we do? If Moon Chant is really still alive and they become allies…”
”Everyone, please calm down!” the white raven said, but no one paid him any attention. His eyes turned angry and he raised his voice. ”Silence!” Finally, the birds fell silent.
”Look, let’s all calm down, alright?” The white raven said coolly, ”There is no need to worry. There is no doubt that Moon Chant is dead.”
”How are you so sure?” the pelican asked after a long pause. ”Even the strongest musicians may lose against him.”
”You don’t need to worry about that,” the white raven laughed. ”Only this is undeniable. This person has never lost, and has never disappointed others. No musician dares to say they could win against him. Since he acted and told us that Moon Chant is dead, there is no way that he’s alive.”
”How are you sure that he did not lie to you?”
”Because there is no need!” The white raven uttered a name coldly. The watch tower fell into silence. The birds looked at each other in shock. After a long time, their worried hearts finally relaxed. Like dust settling, they were finally able to breathe comfortably.
That sentence had been like magic, calming the chaos instantly. The white raven had said, ”The one who killed Moon Chant was Bach.”