Chapter 9: Mistake

Translator: Nyoi-Bo Studio  Editor: Nyoi-Bo Studio

Although the Dark Ages had ended over a hundred years ago, the frenzy of the aether storm still remained in every corner of the world. Outside the colonies, danger still hid in the shadows. So almost everyone had been seriously warned by their parents, teachers, and the garrison,

“Absolutely, absolutely, absolutely do not go outside the colony!”

But Ye Qingxuan did not care. It was just a wall to climb over–that was not difficult for him at all.

But this direction, he was vaguely familiar with. Wasn’t this the direction to the lighthouse?

Usually when they went to the lighthouse, they would cross through a forest. There was a longer route directly from the beach to the main entrance of the lighthouse, but he did not understand why Victor would choose such a dangerous shortcut.

If he wanted to leave, he could have chosen any ship from the dock. Quietly hidden in a cargo cabin, he would not be found. When the sailors did eventually find him, he would have been hundreds of miles away.

In the deep forest, Old Phil suddenly stopped.

He looked down at the ground.

Ye Qingxuan had never seen Old Phil with such a vicious look. It bared its teeth. Its front paws were shoveling the dirt on the ground, and glaring at a dark red spot of mud…it smelled like blood.

–

Ye Qingxuan did not hesitate. He sped through the forest and the thorns, and rushed to the foot of the lighthouse.

The heavy iron gate had been there for hundreds of years, and the dark surface was full of rust. But inside, it was still as clean as when it was new. The gate could not be opened with a key; instead, the password plate on the door needed to be rotated.

The priest gave the password to Ye Qingxuan, so Victor knew it as well.

But Victor had been too lazy to come to places like this. Why had he come here now?

Ye Qingxuan struggled to push the door open. The light from the sunset rushed into the space behind the door, illuminating flurries of rolling dust, the dark stairs, and a young man sitting on the stairs.

A strong smell of blood rushed towards Ye Qingxuan.

On the stairs, Victor had a small case in his arms. He was staring at the entrance silently, eyes vicious like a mad beast.

His arms were cut badly, deep to the bone. Even with the bandage, blood was still flowing out. But his hands were still clutching that dagger, ready to stab anything that would dare to come close.

When he saw Ye Qingxuan’s white hair, the ruthlessness in his eyes started to fade, until it finally dimmed down.

“Victor?” Ye Qingxuan was shocked. “How did you become like this?”

“Sorry you had to see me like this, Ye.” He forced a painful smile, and looked down at the bag in his arms. “I just wanted to steal some money before I ran away, but I got into trouble…”

–

“Last night, I was going to leave the dock and leave my troubles here. There was a ship going to Birmingham, temporarily docked here. Jensen, who was moving the cargo, told me he had a job for me.”

“A job?”

When he heard that word, Ye Qingxuan frowned. He certainly knew what the workers on the pier meant by “job.” It would be nothing more than stealing a passenger’s luggage or goods. These people had good repacking skills, and not much was usually stolen, so few would realize their things were missing. And once the passengers did realize they were missing things from their bags, they usually had already arrived at their destination.

“He told me someone was going to get off the ship tonight. It sounded like a man from some other town. He was wearing a ring with gemstones, clothes made of expensive material, and seemed to be very rich. So the two of them planned to steal something from this man.”

He paused, then continued with a husky voice, “I thought I was going to make some money for the trip, so I agreed. According to the plan, the two of them would distract him by selling him some local products, then I’d steal his small bag…”

“Were you caught?”

“It’s worse than that. I succeeded.”

Victor managed a terrible smile, his face seizing up unnaturally. “I stole the bag, then was supposed to meet them outside of the dock. But I had a stomachache, and did not get there on time.

When I got there, they were all dead.”

His pupils were dilated, frozen hands tightly gripping Ye Qingxuan, as if he had been thrown into an ice cellar, trembling slightly.

“They were all dead, Ye, cut into pieces and thrown into the sea.”

His voice sounded like a demon was ready to rush out of his throat, vague and cold. Ye Qingxuan was shocked, caught by surprise.

“All dead?”

“I saw the man cutting them into pieces with my own eyes.”

Victor looked at the scar on his arm, fear still in his eyes. “If I did not run so fast, maybe I’d be in pieces now too. Is this what Easterners mean by karma, Ye? It came so fast.”

“That’s bull. There is no karma in this world. You need to calm down.” Ye Qingxuan patted his shoulder. “Who is the guy? I will report him to the garrison…”

“It’s useless!” Victor interrupted him, grasping his shoulder, “Ye, leave. Do not stay here, and pretend you never saw me. You have no idea who I offended.”

Ye Qingxuan broke away from his hand and grabbed the small bag from his arms. The lock on the long black bag had been smashed, and you could feel how expensive it was by the soft texture of the leather.

Although he was prepared to see a bag full of jewelry or gold bars inside, Ye Qingxuan still could not help but take a deep breath once he saw what was in the bag.

Inside, there was a layer of soft sponge, with an additional layer of padded black brocade on top. It was a very fine brocade, one that felt as smooth as water. On the edge of the sponge layer, there were a few slots, holding some delicate spare parts. They were exquisite and gorgeous, with forged metal patterns.

But nothing could replace the radiance of what was in the middle of the bag.

It was made of dark red iron, crafted with an exquisite forging process, and hand painted by the craftsman. The smooth surface was spotless, reflecting the men’s pale faces.

It was a clarinet.

“Did you steal from a musician?!”

Ye Qingxuan was idly looking at the things in the bag, and felt a surge of coldness spread from his feet to his head.

“Victor, do you know what you’ve done?”

–

In the great sanctuary of Anglo, as early as a few decades ago, the Parliament issued a ruling: once a citizen had acquired the formal status of a musician, he automatically received the status of nobility, the same status as a baron.

No military service was necessary. One did not need to pay taxes, one did not even need to comply with the law. A musician could only be tried by a special court if a crime was committed. Any insult to the musicians would be seen as an insult to the kingdom, and the punishment would be just as grave.

This kind of status for musicians was considered the most common respect. Because it was also commonly known that once musicians decided to slaughter, nightmares would follow.

Once in the Hamelin area, a village had hired a vagrant musician to drive away outlaws from the mountain; however, they regretted it and refused to pay the musician, intending to drive him away with force. The furious musician started to play the pipe, controlling his group of ruthless employers to assemble into a line. They were singing and dancing while digging their own graves, then cut open each other’s wrists, and jumped into the coffins.

The whole village was obliterated–no one survived.

Even now, that musician was still on the most wanted list–number sixty-two, named “Hamelin’s Pied Piper.”

Similarly, there were dozens of such bedtime stories to scare children–creating seven devils to attack a castle; Snow White, the musician who killed the queen; the Red Hat who kidnapped the old grandmother and controlled beasts to attack a village; the puppet master who used a long-nosed puppet’s body to strangle children who lied; a gray witch who used a pumpkin carriage to kidnap the prince for a pair of crystal shoes; a sea witch who turned half her body into a fish and commanded a storm to drown the Prince’s fleet…

Some of these stories were fiction, and some were actually variations of true incidents. From these stories, there were still several parties on the most wanted list, rankings unchanged for over a decade.

Countless horrible rumors involved much blood, sweat and tears. Perhaps some had demonized the musicians, but at least one thing was clear–no one was to mess with a musician.

And now, Victor had stolen an instrument from a musician, something they treated as an essential part of their lives.

“I know a musician. Let’s go see him!” Ye Qingxuan put the clarinet back in the bag, and dragged Victor out of the windmill.

“Regardless of the price, I will ask him to help you get out of this trouble.” Ye Qingxuan whispered, “Victor, no matter who that musician is, I will not watch you die in front of me.”

“But it’s too late, Ye.”

Victor seemed to have felt something, and his look turned bitter.

He turned around and said, “He’s here.”

In the forest, a rotten stench of wind suddenly blew in. The leaves shook, with a rustling sound.

The sun had almost set below the sea, and the residual light illuminated the withered leaves of the branch, as well as the mist from afar.

The fog slowly came from all directions, like a living thing. It seemed very slow, but instantly drowned them. Numerous strange shadows flashed through the fog, wrapped in a cold and wet gray.

Gasping with fear, Ye Qingxuan heard a low voice singing vaguely, “Avalon Bridge is falling down, falling down, falling down…”

Foul fog rose from all directions, thicker and thicker, until nothing could be seen. As if there was sorrow pulling at their hands, feet and hair, and slowing down their steps, they could barely breathe.

“Build it with iron bars, iron railings, iron railings…”

A sound with the friction of iron came from the paleness.

Ye Qingxuan felt the bag trembling with a low voice–it was the instrument echoing the familiar song, uttering to its master.

Suddenly, countless iron pieces whistled and cut through the silence.

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