musicians of old

Chapter 840 "Holy Remains"

Thump! Thump! Thump!

Fanning fell to the ground, managing to turn her head to the side and avoid hitting her face on the ground.

It still kicked up a cloud of dust on the ground.

His heart was pounding, and his gaze was fixed on the stake, the chains above detached like a swinging pendulum.

"Run! Run!"

"Run across the square! They're coming down!"

The people on the pyre were shouting.

Fan Ning, of course, could not afford to be presumptuous and was struggling to stand up.

However, just now, as he watched the crack open before his eyes, for some reason, a strong sense of sorrow suddenly welled up in his heart.

It's strange. When in danger, you can feel tense, fearful, or simply weak in the legs, but how can you feel sadness? Fan Ning didn't know. He felt the flames leaping on the field, the rising black smoke, the process of supporting himself with his arms, and the eye contact with Nancy. Everything was in a strange slow motion.

"Tick tock. Tick tock"

Time passed slowly, and even the sacred music "March in A minor and Hymns of the Cocktail" in the back choir fell silent.

Perhaps it is true that after such an incident, some of those who played and sang sacred music were bewildered, and after Fanning fell and spiritual guidance weakened, a few even stopped altogether.
In this middle section of the development section, just as the sub-theme "worldly love" is engaged in a complex struggle in D minor in the form of a march, the music suddenly loses its momentum.

The wooden pipes lead to an unexpected passage.

"Ring~" Ring~

Some musicians even produced the clear and ethereal sound of cowbells, and some unfamiliar instruments that had never been heard before in this generation also appeared.

A dreamlike passage.

"In the past, when traveling or hiking, there was a process of gradually moving away from the hustle and bustle of the towns behind or below. The last sound related to the world that I could hear was the faint sound of bells behind me."

For some reason, Fan Ning felt as if someone was speaking to her in another dimension.

The cowbells and glockenspiel struck alternately, sometimes near, sometimes far, while the strings stretched out in the high register, becoming a stagnant background.

The brass pipes, which had previously emitted eerie roars, had now curled up into a weak p, while the woodpipes and drums occasionally emitted ascending fourths of summoning sounds, as if they had escaped from beneath the high walls of the monastery to some cool and refreshing place.
The theme of the "Dark March" moves backward, and the melody of "Earthly Love" becomes unusually quiet. Then, the "Not-So-Dark Dark Chorus" joins in, and even in the last two bars, there is a clear and beautiful prelude to a cadence in E-flat major.
However, the "warning chord" reappeared.

The major triads switched directly to minor triads, the gloom returned, and the music was pulled back from its "distracted" state!
Fanning had already propped himself up on his arms again, staggering to his feet. The slowed flow and the inexplicable hallucinations had all vanished.

The music is suddenly interrupted by the cruel and merciless fourth part of the development section, as the eerie trumpet once again plays the "Dark March"!
Divine conscience, the final struggle.

As the cracks spread, Fan Ning did not run away in the direction the crowd was shouting for, but instead stepped towards the center of the square.

"Bang bang!!"

A loud bang came from behind.

Even the "nexus" that Squiaben misled Fanning to activate—the harp-wielding angel in the mural above the church—was burned off in large chunks and fell to the ground!
Fan Ning, however, forcibly steadied his spirit and tremblingly extended his right hand.

Facing the row of crosses that were already leaning in the fire pit, he repeatedly pointed with Newmp's hand gestures!

That direction.

At the Mertran Cathedral Theological Seminary, atop the cemetery hill, Joan gazed at the horizon with a complex expression.

Even though the sunlight was streaming through the branches where everyone was, the sky in that direction was covered with dark clouds!
A miracle is clearly about to happen here, so why does something ominous seem to be happening in that area?

Before them, Fan Ning's completed manuscript of "Debate on the Obscure" still lay on the sarcophagus, beams of light converging from it. Suddenly, with a soft "bang," the sarcophagus opened!
It actually got opened!
This is divine revelation!

The deacon, trembling, led the group forward to see Guido Dalezo lying quietly in the bronze box. His withered, blackened body lay still, enveloped in a deep purple-gold light.

But the purple-gold luster is fading away inch by inch.

"Crack."

The shadow of a steel boot rolled over Guido Dalezo's corpse.

"Click." "Click."

Fine cracking sounds rang out continuously. The already charred and withered corpse was now crushed in two by the steel boots, and the brittle and broken ashes turned into a cloud of purple dust and rose up!
"It's a pity, the first one to be eliminated from the conflict."

Pogrelic's figure continued to hover and tread above the crimson six-pointed star, rising higher and higher with each ripple.

The other members of the discussion group all witnessed this with serious expressions.

Of course, compared to the crushed corpses before their eyes, the overwhelming horror was the entire sky above, which was writhing and pressing down.

"Hehehe, Director, what a futile effort you've made. Why bother?"

Guido Dalezo was still speaking, his voice still as painful and strained as that of someone dying of a terminal illness.

"My motivation for this collaboration is purely 'academic'—it's simply to witness the completion of the truth behind 'Debate on the Subtle and the Mysterious,' and the secrets of time."

"I've already taught you how to set up the entire ceremony. This sincerity... is it not enough?"

“Your sincerity is commendable.” Pogrerich’s lips twitched slightly as he walked. “If Lord Guido Dalezo can still see, perhaps he could take the time to look at which piece of debris is currently in the center of the altar.”

Obviously, a corpse in the waking world cannot see or hear what is happening around it.

However, judging from Pogrerich's words, it seems that it is still possible to pay a price to get a glimpse of this bizarre "Ordered One" corpse.

The purple ashes briefly solidified in the air into a cracked tower-shaped image before quickly collapsing and falling again.

"You! Blade!? This isn't... you actually... didn't use 'The Old Ones'." Guido Dalezo's voice changed this time, filled with pain and a hint of astonishment.

"As the mastermind behind some ancient and secret crime, you've always wanted me to recreate that crime in the history of the new calendar?" Pogrerich smiled indifferently.

Snap. Snap. His footsteps circled the six-pointed star, and the shadows crushed the corpses on the ground even more.

"Because this can transfer this curse that makes you wish you were dead? Too bad. You still don't understand me. Actually, I wouldn't reject your suggestion just because I'm worried about transferring the curse. It's only a secondary factor for me, but you've made it too important, to the point that you've racked your brains to 'avoid the important issue,' neglecting to make efforts in a direction that could truly move me."

"In short, it's too late. Someone has already suggested a 'Plan B' for the 'Ritual of Rebellion' to me, which I'm more interested in. Oh, and we can't rule out that our chief historian, Mr. Scriabin, is also a rebel 'entangled in conflict'. However, the idea of ​​the 'Ritual of Rebellion' and the 'Power of Breaking the Stalemate' have something in common, and it is indeed more to my liking," Pogrerich said calmly.

Guido Dalezo, the Order Keeper who was in a bizarre, cursed state, was clearly unaware of the Special Patrol Department's changes to its plans beforehand.

"You, you actually dared to completely, utterly replace even the core of the ritual. But that's not right! That's not right! The 'Exorcism Ritual' clearly doesn't have a distinction between priority and reversal. Clearly it doesn't."

At this moment, Guido Dalezo's emotions were clearly more volatile, and there was also a strong sense of confusion mixed in with them!

The other law enforcement officers, with stern expressions, listened to the man's voice, which sounded like it was being torn apart by pain, but they were unsure how credible it was.

“One person says yes, the other says no, you have a little time to debate the academic issue.”

The crowd's gazes followed Pogreridge's words; some looked at Mr. Wax in the wheelchair, while others looked again at the mangled remains.

“Impossible. There’s clearly no distinction between order and reverse, there absolutely isn’t.” Guido Dalezo’s voice trembled with difficulty. “Destiny has no direction. ’Noon’ has no direction.”

"Ahem, ahem... And since Your Excellency, you've gone to great lengths to select Fan Ning as the one who has reached the top, why not see how he interprets the fate of this world? The keys will be all ready soon."