musicians of old

Chapter 870 Departure
On the mountain range surrounding the "Central Control Area," on a huge man-made platform, the leaders of the remnants of the Special Patrol Bureau had been waiting for a long time.

I arrived at the invitation, for a prayer, for a conversation.

Another day and night have passed.

What exactly did the leader and this "torchbearer" discuss at the secluded round table? It remains unknown. However, since Fanning chose to "plead" and opted for a real meeting, judging from the leader's prior instructions, it should have been effective.

Moreover, after Fanning emerged from the silent archives, he did indeed give everyone a chance.

He spent a few minutes listening to the ideas and arrangements for the "new world," and heard everyone's statement that they would "be at our beck and call if needed." He nodded slightly to indicate that he understood before walking out the door.

Today, the pink barrier that moves with it has been winding around a nearby valley where it meets the mountains of the "Central Control Area".

Lasuth's gaunt figure stood at the forefront, with the investigators and soldiers behind him silent as iron. Their gazes occasionally swept over the quietly shifting light and shadow of the "sanctuary."

The river and the white houses inside have remained unchanged since I first saw them.

At first, everyone thought that this unpredictable master was still in the final stages of meditation or preparation, but as time went on, an unsettling silence began to spread under the moonlight.

"Should we go in and take a look?" suggested one of the experts.

"It's hard to say, let's go take a look." Laxus said hoarsely, then contradicted himself. "I'll go by myself. Don't go with too many people."

"Master Fan Ning, I am sorry to bother you and request an audience."

After giving instructions to his subordinates, Laxus shouted, his withered face showing a mixture of doubts, and stepped into the light curtain.

Without any resistance or spiritual fluctuations, the sudden change in the scene behind the barrier froze Lasuth instantly.

Desolate, barren.

All that remains here is a desolate ruin. Only the river that appeared out of nowhere looks clean for now, but the white hut next to it is covered with gray mold. The sand and soil on the ground are dry and hardened, and the air is filled with dust and the smell of decay.

This place is now deserted.

It's just a remnant of divine mystery; at most, it will stay for a few more hours before the chaotic colors of the outside world completely assimilate this place.

"He left on his own?" The deputies, who had been signaled to come in, exchanged incredulous glances.

The group walked silently through the ruins, stopping and starting intermittently.

The boots made a soft crunching sound as they stepped on the gravel.

Some people lingered for a long time in the direction of the former "backyard" of that dilapidated white house.

Above it lingered a more peculiar atmosphere, like a candle but not quite a candle, full of contradictions, full of self-consistency, lost yet passionate, calm yet compassionate, wistful yet relieved, a kind of almost tangible divinity.

“They didn’t leave.” Lasuth slowly shook his head, his voice dry. “They ‘set off’.”

The group raised their eyelids and looked out at the vast and terrifying Honkai world beyond the "sanctuary," their expressions complex.

"But why weren't we called, and why weren't we given any instructions? Logically, the leader should have given us instructions." The subordinate next to him asked, puzzled.

"It won't deviate from the trajectory."

Lasus let out a long sigh as he pondered deeply.

"There is absolutely no other possibility for the goal of the 'New World.' Perhaps this person has some other thoughts or concerns regarding specific actions. Does he want to establish a 'rule anchor' entirely based on his Southern projection? Even if he should have known long ago that this path would not be feasible? Or would he rather climb the tower alone than cooperate with the effectiveness of the 'Raging Silver Flakes' and the 'Controlled Zone'?"

Even in the exchanges and considerations between important figures, they cannot delve into deeper levels of power struggles.

In any case, the leader's arrangements will inevitably follow a predetermined trajectory. Whether it's a "shelter" or a "controlled zone," the purpose is to establish and reinforce rules.

In hopes of a resurgence of conflict.

"Stay put and wait for further instructions. We will assist you if there are any updates."

Lassus made the arrangements.

Even without news, the Special Patrol Bureau's own efforts to maintain and expand the "controlled area" are also in accordance with the leader's instructions.

"May the new world await at the end of the long night."

"May the new world await at the end of the long night."

The team leaders raised their hands in salute as they looked down the mountain path, but they didn't know who they were saluting.

Fan Ning has indeed left, and it has been quite some time since then.

Alone, carrying the "Illyrian" guitar and with the blind "Night Watchman's Lamp" hanging from his waist, he walked through the true, boundless collapse.

The sickly light shone down for a long time, pale, blue, green, flesh-colored and pink, the shadows of the mountains wriggled and stretched, and colorful viscous streams meandered through them, and Fanning's clothes and shoes were soon covered with unknown stains and tears.

Occasionally, amidst the whispering of pollen and spores floating in the air, he would glance at what seemed to be areas that were once “cities” or “towns.” These places, in their form, resembled clay that had been carelessly kneaded and discarded by a child, yet in their size, they were strange, enormous, and incongruous. In comparison, Fanning’s figure appeared exceptionally small.

What you see is merely the result.

"To truly understand what you desire and what you want to fight for, the key lies within yourself."

"If there was no preparation for 'action' at all."

Love never fails.

"But all of this is vanity, a chasing after the wind."

"I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith."

Various thoughts intertwined, collided, and settled in Fan Ning's mind, but in the end, they all formed a kind of calm and determination that was almost "pure and resolute".

He neither strayed from the "destination" nor did he deliberately "go there for it."

No one would leisurely stroll around in such a maddening world.

But Fanning's condition was definitely not that of someone rushing.

“I turned down toward the sacred, secret, indescribable night.”

"This world is sunk in an abyss, a desolate and lonely place. A deep sorrow stirs my heartstrings, and I wish to turn into a dewdrop and sink, to mix and adhere with the ashes."

"Distant memories, youthful aspirations, childhood dreams, the fleeting joys of a long life, and doomed hopes, all come draped in a gray cloak, like the twilight after sunset."

As Fanning softly recited the poems of Novalis, who was known as the "Poet of the Blue Flower" in Germany, his fingers tapped the "Illyrian" guitar in his arms, and ripples of spirituality spread out, like pebbles thrown into water or insects falling into a spider web.

Among the abnormal things scattered throughout the abnormal zone are "musical instruments".

And now, all the "instruments" that have passed along the way are making their own sounds, and the "Orchestral Music at Night" is playing again.

However, it sounds a little different from the original version.