musicians of old

Chapter 924 Everything Returned!

This pillar of light, flowing with vibrant oil paint, has a profound connection with Fanning.

It's almost a symbiotic relationship.

As soon as he went in, his skin and the cloak of color became completely intertwined, indistinguishable from each other.

Fan Ning became an integral part of that filthy pillar of light.

Then, with a slight lift of his hand, a baton with a vicious and chaotic spiral pattern materialized in his palm.

"Pap-pap-pap-pap."

Upon seeing this, Mr. F was the first to lead the applause.

"Hahaha, Master Fanning, why didn't you say so sooner!"

"You've finally figured it out, oh no, you 'had it all planned out,' haha," he laughed repeatedly, shaking his head with a warm, friendly, and understanding expression. "When you first climbed the tower, the nameless angel of the Holy Sun Church asked you to fully return, and you righteously refused because you already knew they were heretics! This time you've finally joined our orthodox path, easy peasy, easy peasy. From now on, you're part of the 'Pillars of the Trinity.' Actually, it's strange, you were already so deeply integrated with the 'Old Ones,' and you're well-versed in Mithraic doctrines, even paying homage in the music just now. These are all fates. Why were you always thinking about 'flipping the table' before? Well, anyway, you're truly one of us now, so there's no need for any 'fighting'—"

"No, how can you be so sure I can't destroy the 'old days'?"

Fan Ning suddenly spoke with a half-smile, interrupting the man's endless chatter.

Mr. F was taken aback for a moment.

Seeing Fanning's next move, Pogorelich frowned.

What does that mean? His words...
It's quite obvious that Fanning's current move has an element of "directing the start of the shot".

Perhaps the Eighth Symphony really does have a "second half".

However, first of all, Fanning's hands were trembling and weak, which clearly constitutes a fundamental instability error that falls under the "professional bottom line."

Moreover, it was done with both hands.

Fanning gripped both ends of the baton with both hands.

Where do you find this gesture?

What kind of command style is this?
"Click."

A crisp sound rang out; Fanning had actually broken the baton in two.

The world of sound suddenly turned upside down; the sacred and glorious vibrations of the past disappeared, and E-flat minor swept through the entire space like a cold wave.

"cha"

The cymbals emitted a faint, cold impact, the echoes spreading across the dome like a spider web. The string section played an almost inaudible tremolo, while the double bass and cello repeatedly plucked the strings to create a distorted musical pattern.

It is faintly visible that it is the "lighting theme" of the first part.

But now all light and certainty have been lost, leaving only hesitation and gloom, hovering on the edge of the abyss.

Is this considered an "orchestral introduction" to the second part? It's written as brilliantly and captivatingly as ever. However...
"Master Fan Ning, no, why did you break the baton for no reason?" Mr. F felt that the matter was a bit outrageous, or rather, joking and funny.

The baton in Fanning's hand is merely a symbolic reflection; the true "old day" is the entire filthy pillar of light shooting skyward.

Does verbally cursing someone to die mean that person will actually die?

Moreover, the "Secret of the Endless" has already died young. Even if Fanning's mind is temporarily full of inspiration, it can no longer be processed and replenished in time. Perhaps if he sat down and adopted the conventional method of written writing, like the "Resurrection" before, he could meditate day and night, capture inspiration, and slowly write a great work. But to continue improvising like this without any preparation? It is a question whether this so-called second part of the music can even smoothly last until the chorus appears!

Fanning, however, resolutely continued to depict the orchestral prelude.

Occasionally, a motif similar to the "light theme" would appear in the woodwind section, but it would always come to an abrupt end; the French horn would try to respond, but the sound would be like hitting a cold stone wall, leaving only an empty echo; the emotional fluctuations were repeatedly suppressed by the dark cymbal sounds, and the energy that had just accumulated was forcibly suppressed.

"What I said before was true. Getting to where I am today, I do indeed have a rather special connection with the Mithraic sects, huh~"

Fan Ning spoke slowly, with a very strange emotion in his voice.

"I am a person who likes to see things through to the end. In the past, whether it was cooperation between my fathers, involvement, testing, or deception, at least the crown of righteousness has been preserved for me. The congregation treats me as if I were a basking in the light of all ages. The first part of this Symphony No. 8 is dedicated to the Holy Sun Church. I thank them for the old world on which we once depended for survival."

“I thank the ‘Unfailing Fire,’ the ‘Endless Fugue,’ and the ‘Old Days.’ The guidance of the music that reappears, the solace of the vast ocean of music in the 0th history, has carried me through the swamps and valleys of the shadow of death, protecting me from harm and elevating me to higher places.”

"But today, I don't want this 'honor' bestowed upon me by all!"

Fan Ning's voice suddenly rose.

"I hereby clarify all historical misunderstandings! I hereby return all noble honors! I hereby bear all the sins of usurpation!"

"What do you mean!?" Mr. F's expression changed, and his thoughts momentarily went blank.

With his sixth level of divinity, he couldn't quite figure out what Fan Ning's words meant!
Fan Ning suddenly closed his eyes, and actually folded the two broken pieces of the conductor's baton back together, then picked them up again, one in each hand!
"This second part of the music is written for myself! If I die, consider it my message to the 'new world'!"

boom! ——

The batons broke in two again.

Beneath the oppressive prelude, the pizzicato strings transform into somber vibrato, the violins unleash a desperate pentatonic pattern, and the brass instruments join the mournful chorus as an undercurrent of grief begins to emerge!
Time and space flashed before my eyes.

In the auditorium of the Saint Lennia Conservatory of Music, the array of crystal chandeliers overhead cast a bright light. When Fanning finished playing "Fantasy-Impromptu," she stood up from the piano, and thunderous applause erupted as the students cheered.

There are many, many more figures who rise from the piano and bow in similar manner.

At Teacher Anton's home, Xilan leaned against the sofa, crossed her legs, and quietly listened to the melancholy boat song flowing from the young man's fingertips.

In the town of Highvalley, at the Marquise de MacAdam's salon night, gentlemen and ladies sat and discussed music, and the inspiration of the string quartet intertwined and soared.

At the Church of St. Janinghe, during the memorial service for the poet Bassani, the dignitaries of Thio Lean were thronging the church, and a magnificent keyboard variation was creating its own miracle.
In the dreamlike southern land, on this beautiful night, under the vast starlight, on the final stage of the Tia City Singer Competition, Luna and Miss Nightingale's eyes shone like stars, and the audience was immersed in a sweet sorrow, unable to extricate themselves for a long time.
Janus Saint Pelto, on his preaching journey, experienced miraculous grace, an impossible theological rainbow, and the mystery of the "theme of God," which resonated throughout the world, bringing tears to the eyes of believers as if they were witnessing a miracle.
The images continued to flow and intertwine, but the audience's applause suddenly fell silent.

Fanning shouted at those illusions:
"Fantasy-Impromptu in C-sharp minor, by the Polish piano poet Frédéric Chopin! June Barcarolle, by the Russian Romantic master Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky! These are not my works! Their 'forms' all belong to him!"

His outstretched hand, the hand that broke the baton, suddenly exploded with a loud bang!
The two knuckles turned into golden ashes in an instant, as if a piece of his divinity had been ripped away. The excruciating pain caused Fan Ning to gasp for breath and cough violently.