403 Trade With a Loss (1/2)

”Hehe…” In the carriage, the muddled grandmaster Philip suddenly woke up. He widened his burnt eyes. The corners of his eyes tore apart and bloody tears flowed out. As if suddenly recovered from his injured state, he sprang up from the straw. The bloody crusts stuck with straw were ripped. Viscous blood seeped from the wounds.

”Grandmaster?” Colt was overjoyed. He pointed at the black dot in the sky that was about to disappear. ”Hurry—”

But Philip heard nothing. His blood-covered empty eyes stared deep into the wilderness, shooting out white light. Where his gaze fell, the golden-hair boy squatted on the ground with a confused expression. He munched happily on half a toad he had dug out from the dirt…

”Uncle, I think he saw me.” He swallowed the other half of the toad.

”Oh.” Naberius squatted on a stump and slowly rolled his tobacco with an indifferent expression. ”Then let him look.”

”He's so ugly.” Mordred wiped his mouth. ”I'm a little scared. Can I hit him?”

”Don't be impatient.” Naberius finished and lit the roll to have a smoke. ”Wait a bit more.”

Seeing those blank yet menacing eyes, Mordred suddenly…had a great appetite! Bearing his hunger, he licked his lips.

”How much longer?”

Naberius laughed. Looking back, he glanced at Philip whose eyes were empty yet fierce. ”A bit longer,” he said. ”That old thing still has strength to make it hard for us.”

At that moment, Philip rasped out, ”Colt, run.” His flesh crackled and popped. Dried blood and dust were suddenly hit off by a surge of blood. His body bled everywhere but it represented a shocking vitality. His deteriorated cells were dancing and cheering, quickly healing his wounds.

In an instant, the blood was washed away by light. Philip was no longer old. He had recovered his youth and his mind was clear. His skin was white and unmarred. His white hair seemed to be burning as if he had thrown his soul into the fire—in exchange for strength. A light yet mournful song resounded in his body. His bones were vibrating and his organs were singing. The score of sacrifice from the School of Choir was being played.

”I'll stop them.”

Philip reached out to Colt's shoulder. The Choir song sang from thin air and fell onto Colt. It chased away the maggot-like curse and transformed into vague wings in his back. It was sacrificial aid.

”Colt, run.” He looked into the distance at Naberius and grasped his broken sword. ”Go toward the Sacred City. Go as far as you can.”

Finally understanding something, Colt paled considerably. He almost collapsed onto the ground but he clenched his jaw and abandoned the carriage. He turned and left without daring to look back.

Under the aid, his speed was incredible. He disappeared in an instant.

”These believers are so narrow-minded. They don't even care about their lives.” Naberius sighed. ”Why don't they want to live? They don't see themselves as people and don't see others as people… So how are they different from us dark musicians?”

No one replied to his taunting.

Staring at him, Philip raised his broken sword and brought it between his brows. ”I vow to destroy the demons,” he said.

The score of discipline rumbled. Majestic light emerged behind him. The cracked halo of light burned fervently. The blue fire seemed to come from purgatory; it was terrifying. The cries of countless sinners traveled from it.

In Purgatory, countless sleeping eyes opened. The figures clad in red gazed at the dirty world and cried in unison, ”I vow to destroy the demons!” The voices roared like an avalanche, like a hurricane.

In an instant, the silent bell in the Sacred City rang. The stone coffins in the dark corner of the Holy Spirit Hall shook. The sleeping spirits awoke and opened their eyes, looking into this direction.

Thus, holy light fell from the sky. The white-gold light was so hot, so pure, and clean to the point that it could bear no tainting. Everything that touched it was vaporized.

Under the pouring of light, Philip expanded until he was a two-meter tall giant. The halo of power spun behind him. It rumbled, calling for lightning to transform into wings. In an instant, even the sun seemed to dim in comparison.

All that remained in the world was this pure and flawless light.

”F*ck, Holy Spirit transformation…why do you guys keep doing this stuff?” Naberius swore. ”No wonder he gave so much money. They're waiting for me here.” Then the light sliced his head off. The head opened its mouth and sneered.

-

The moment the Sacred City bell rang, the young musician praying in the hall opened his eyes. He quickly walked out of the hall and ran through the Papal Palace. Passing through the doors, he walked along the hall and entered the depths. He knocked on the door.

”Enter,” someone behind the door said.

The musician entered and bowed his head politely. He did not dare look at the bishops sitting around the table. He offered a map. ”I found grandmaster Philip! He is not far from the Sacred City, only a few hundred meters away, but he used the Holy Spirit transformation. He may, unfortunately, be…at risk.”

In the dim room, heavy curtains blocked the light. The room was filled with the thick odor of medicine. The priests had been discussing quietly for an emergency meeting. Hearing the musician's words, they froze and stared at each other.