394 Witches’ Dance (1/2)
In that moment, Ye Qingxuan almost held his breath. And in that moment, a furious roar began. The abyss wind tunnel opened and black mud burst out like a fountain. Paganini roared and screamed. Yanking out the Sword, he revealed the ghastly hole. He was no longer a human but he still bled from the wound. As soon as the Sword was removed, the Garment wrapped around it, restraining it as if locking it inside a box. When it fell onto the ground, the blade dulled to scrap metal.
A black hand yanked Ye Qingxuan up by the throat. ”B*stard, do you know what you did?!” Paganini's furious face emerged from the mud. He yelled, ”Do you know how precious that thing is?! You wasted the biggest miracle in the world! You-you-you…you can't even die to atone for the sin!”
The mud spread along the hand, swallowing him. Immense pain as if falling into Hell overtook him. It felt like countless hands mashing down on his nerves. The pain poured into his limbs and body, besieging his sanity. He screamed in pain.
”Biggest miracle?” Ye Qingxuan laughed through the immense pain. He looked up at Paganini tauntingly. ”You don't even know what the biggest miracle is.”
”Then come to the Styx with your miracle!” Paganini smiled cruelly. ”Don't worry, I won't let you die. During the rest of your long life, your biggest miracle will be 'death'.”
Mud suddenly swallowed Elsa. Ye Qingxuan felt the hand around his throat tighten. His neck creaked in protest. His vision turned black.
In the last moment, his mind was empty but for some reason, a thin figure flashed past. It was an alley in Avalon. Under the dim light, a girl wore a dusty white dress. She looked back him with cloudy eyes.
”Cousin…”
Bai Xi, sorry.
Closing his eyes, Ye Qingxuan used the last of his strength to yell, ”Wolf Flute!”
-
In the sky, a scorched Wolf Flute and the remaining grandmasters landed haphazardly on the floor of the iron whale temple.
”Father…” Wolf Flute looked up at Bann with troubled eyes. ”He wants me to tell you that the time is up.”
Bann looked down at his watch. The second hand and hour hand overlapped.
It was exactly thirty minutes. The time was up.
”Child, we will meet again in heaven.” He closed his eyes sadly and no longer hesitated. Closing the watch, he tossed it into the air. It rolled on the ground and shattered crisply. Time stopped at that moment.
In the stillness, under the piercing noise, Bann stepped forward. He yanked the sword out.
Heaven's Door was activated. A sea of light blossomed above the vault of heaven.
-
As the sea of light surged, the heaven and earth thundered. Somber music played from the iron whale, shaking the world.
In that moment, Father Bann lowered his head. He supported himself with the sword and stopped breathing. It was as if he had died and became a stone statue. However, an incomparable graveness and holiness brewed inside of him.
A lotus bloomed in the sea of light. The radiant flower created by countless ripples bloomed between the sky and earth. It illuminated Paganini's confused face. His white face paled even more. He was once again illuminated by the light that appeared constantly in his nightmares—Heaven's Door… Seeing the light, his spine flared with pain as if it was going to tear apart.
Hundreds of years ago, when he fell into the abyss, the sixth pope had stabbed him in the back. He survived and removed his human body but the pain still remained in his soul. The power of judgement flowed with the music theory, engraving into his soul. It tortured him nightly and still hurt after the centuries. Now, the light cast down like a cold gaze. It was lofty and yet so disdainful.
”Ursicinus!” Paganini spat the sixth pope's name out as if wanting to gnash at his throat. ”You're not dead yet! I know! I know! You're even more abnormal than me…”
The moment Heaven's Door opened, the wind tunnel from the abyss froze. It was no longer an exit. The light shone down like God's mercy but it was undeniably cold and cruel. It covered the world inch by inch. Even the Garment began trembling and cracking apart.
A vague figure slowly emerged in the sea of light. As if the door to Heaven had opened, the archangel guarding Heaven wielded a sword of light. He slowly raised his head and walked out. The world was silent.
In the reflection in the sea, the large illusory figure looked down at Paganini. Compared to this vast figure, everything in the world became as insignificant as dust. Who could bear the day of his arrival? Who could withstand his appearance? He was like the fire that smelted gold; he was like the alkali that bleached fabric.