Chapter 361 The Dead
Chapter 361 The Dead
"Torre, help..." Glen rushed out of the corpse's belly and fell to the ground, screaming for help. However, the giant corpse suddenly bent over and swallowed him again. It started to chew wildly. After a few snaps, the dull screams disappeared, leaving only a curved sword poking out of the corpse's mouth, hanging on the face like a strange strand of hair.
Casper bared his teeth. His muscles pulled taut, and the hair on the back of his neck stood up. He wanted to pounce but Torre grabbed him and turned away without hesitation. No one knew what was going to happen while fighting with demons here. He was already aware of the strange aether fluctuations coming for him.
Just around the corner ahead, a faint aether wave suddenly emerged.
Torre did not stop but his voice suddenly turned gentle. He chanted soundlessly, playing a silent movement in the stillness. The music theory was being constructed in his hand, ready to be sent.
In an instant, two figures met in the corner. Coldness flashed in Torre's eyes, but the other person jumped back and raised his hands to protect his face.
"Wait!" The white-haired young man exhaled when he saw it was the Hauser brothers. "Torre, it's me, Ye—"
But Torre continued without hesitation. He pressed his palm down and the other person froze. Crimson blood boiled under his skin. His face distorted. Then, an invisible giant head descended and bit. The flesh and blood burst. Soon, the flesh disappeared without trace. It was just a phantom.
In the distance, Ye Qingxuan's figure appeared. He looked at them, full of vigilance. "How can you do that? It's me, Torre, what's wrong with you?"
Torre narrowed his eyes and watched him for a while. His taut body finally relaxed.
"Sorry, I'm too nervous. I thought you were an enemy in disguise."
Ye Qingxuan's face twitched a bit. He sighed helplessly. "Forget it. I understand. What's your next step?"
"Look for other people first. The more people who gather together, the bigger the possibility of survival," Torre said. "I wonder what is going on with the Masters."
"I'm afraid we can't worry about them." Ye Qingxuan walked forward with Torre. "I did not expect that those dark musicians are so rampant. They even..."
Boom! Behind him, Casper rampaged. Layers of huge mouths shrouded Ye Qingxuan's back. Ye Qingxuan's expression changed. He tried to roll forward but found his feet were anchored to the ground. The air around him was solid like a lock, tightly clamping him in. The next moment, the flesh and blood burst. The phantom dissipated and a hideous, hollow head rolled to the ground.
Torre smashed the head with his foot expressionlessly and lightly said, "Play such a trick before discipline musicians? Are you kidding me?"
In the silence, someone coughed behind the corner not far away. "Well..." Under two sharp gazes, a white-haired youth came out, holding his hands high with a complex expression. "If I said I'm real, would you believe me?"
Torre paused for a moment and glanced at Casper. Casper looked as he had before. He glanced at Ye Qingxuan then looked away, continuing to hang his head. Casper never recognized people by their face, temperament, feeling, breath, or fluctuation. Beasts only judged beasts. As the result of the animal genetics, he could sniff the beastly nature hidden in one's mind. Almost no camouflage could cheat its eyes.
Seeing Casper's such reaction, Torre sighed softly. "You're real."
"So can I come forward?" Ye Qingxuan took a step cautiously. Then after another step, he stopped and thought for a while. He stepped back to his original spot and smiled. "Or I just keep being like this. This will also be more convenient for us to escape."
"…" Torre was speechless. In the end, he just sighed. "Whatever. Do you have any advice?"
"Just do as you discussed with the previous 'faker.' Find the others. At the very least, figure out what's going on." Mercury threads spread from the youth's body and melted into the hellish crimson wind and flew into the surroundings. At the same time, his face slacked. He looked back to the collapsing burning house. His smile stiffened.
Torre followed his eyes but could not sense the breaths of any living creatures. "What's wrong?"
Ye Qingxuan was silent for a while. He whispered, "Can you ask your brother to help lift the wall up?"
Torre looked at Casper. Casper growled and the wall was flipped by some unknown force. There seemed to be an invisible giant beast scratching; even the flames were extinguished. The body under was revealed.
When Torre saw the clothing of the corpse, he soon understood something. He lowered his eyes.
Ye Qingxuan bent over to sweep the dust off the deceased's face. The dead looked grim and full of anger as if he had suffered an incredible betrayal.
"It's you." Ye Qingxuan lowered his eyes, sighing sadly. He put a holy emblem in the palm of the deceased and folded his fingers so he could firmly hold it. Thus, in the ashes, the dead's angry expression faded and his eyes closed.
"Dust to dust, earth to earth." Ye Qingxuan gave him one last glance. "Goodbye."
The figure slept in the fire and blurred. The sound of the flames was muffled as well like a farewell. After a long time, there was no more sound.
-
Sam was thirsty as he slept. Some sweet liquid fell onto his face and flowed into the dry and cracked lips. He moaned and subconsciously sucked the droplet by the corner of his lips. What filled in the mouth was a cold iron taste. It was blood.
He awoke from his dream and saw the burning town. Miller was carrying him on his back. He was still thin but a faint deep blue showed under his skin like steel covered with a layer of leather.
"You're awake?" Miller smiled wryly. "I thought you would sleep for six months." Then Miller applied the medicine for him again. He hesitated but took out a tube to give Sam a shot. Now, Sam was finally sober. His tiredness disappeared and he became energetic again. Even the cracks on his face revealed some faint glow.
He had slept for so many days that, if it were not the dark musician's attack, he would still be lying in the church. At the beginning of the attack, the first to be destroyed was the church. Miller had rushed into the burning church, carried out the sick Sam, and ran until now.
When Baro found him, he was surrounded by a group of demons. If it was a little later, the demons might have feasted on him and Sam. It was Baro who had come all the way to gather the musicians. There were about thirty flustered musicians. None of their usual demeanor and reserve could be seen. They were like a group of wandering beggars.
Baro had a broken hand and bloodshot eyes. He muttered something like a psychopath. He had forced too much beast nature out, which was about to crush his sanity. However, the crazier a Summoning musician was, the more powerful! In particular, he unified the phantom beasts with the sound of heart "Tiger Bone" to forcibly repress the beastly nature. He barely managed to stay sane.
Around him, the invisible flying sycles were inflated several times, emitting strong murderous intent. Even the recently-stitched giant corpses were torn up by the furious phantom beasts.
"Now that the grandmasters disappeared, where are we going?" After understanding the situation, Sam looked to Baro who was guiding the road. "Rushing out is impossible. This is the dark atrium that the dark saints had evolved with their scepters. They probably want to capture all of us. And..."
He smiled wryly and looked at the high wall up to the sky in the distance. Maybe those nations didn't expect that the elite musicians of the new generation would be trapped in behind this wall when they built in order to isolate the plague.
"Go north." Baro wiped the blood on his face. His voice was hoarse. "First we evacuate to the Snow Hotel where I came from. There is a grandmaster there."
"Which one?"
Hearing this, all the people became excited and began to ask questions. The morale turned high when they got to know the details. Even the effect of the music scores became stronger.
"Be careful! Don't attract any monsters." Miller sighed. "We'd better save our strength. I already feel my body starting to fade. The dark atrium is suppressing us." As a Choir musician, he was obviously the most aware of his physical condition. He could surely detect the silent erosion from the dark atrium. The repression on the strength was not the worst, but the dark atrium's force directly influenced the spirit. If they did not pay attention, they could be turned into demons without realizing it.
Hearing this, everyone became alert. After a short break, they began to walk north. However, Sam stood still. He sat on the ground, looking at Baro's back.
"Where did Baro go?" Sam's voice was hoarse but the words stirred in the crowd.
Baro looked back at him, frowning. "What are you talking about?"
Sam's expression was unchanged. He asked, "I said, where's Baro?" In the silence, only the sound of distant flames and collapsing buildings could be heard.
Sam looked at Baro coldly. After a long while, Baro chuckled. His eyes were no longer bloodshot. "I thought I was perfect." He sighed. "What's wrong?"
"There's nothing wrong with you. You are playing well." Sam coughed violently and spat out bloody phlegm. His voice was still hoarse.
"Baro likes to bully others and hold grudges. He's narrow-minded and neurotic. He despises those who are weaker than him. He is a paranoid b*stard. So, never once did I hear the word 'let's' from his mouth, not to mention helping so many people along the way. He'd never be as 'kind' as you."
When saying the word 'kind', Sam's eyes became harsh like the scorching sun. Among the charred cracks on the face, blood lit up like lava. "Let me ask again. Where is Baro?"
"Is he such a man in your mind?" 'Baro' sighed. "If he heard that, he must be very sad. His last words before dying were, 'Sam you finally woke up. Great...' When I killed him, he thought he was dreaming."
"Grandmaster… What about the master?" Someone in the crowd was about to break down. "Where is the grandmaster?"
Miller finally processed everything. The former friend beside him had been replaced by a demon. A wisp of redness emerged on his ashen face like boiling blood.
Master? There was no master at all. This was only a well-prepared trap! What could be easier than letting the prey come voluntarily?