Silent Crown Chapter 658: The dust returns to the dust

The music theory of Ladder in the Nine Heavens Ring, the enchantment of Dragon Sleep in the Silent Moon, the sage stone of Hermes, the music theory of purification of the Inquisition, the resonance of Abraham's natural disasters...

He listed on the paper everything he had learned. ?

There is even the music theory of Genesis, even the music theory exchanged from those masters.

At the end of writing, even a blind man could see that he didn't plan to engage in a normal chapter of fate at all.

Where does the general chapter of fate need so much time and effort? Any combination of them is the top of the world. Combining the chapter of fate of the three, it is already the heavyweight in the heavyweight class.

But Ye Qingxuan still didn't intend to stop.

He has made up his mind.

Since you want to copy, then copy it all!

Copy new ideas, copy friendships, copy new realms!

Anyway, since ancient times, no one has stipulated what the Chapter of Fate must look like, and everyone's core music theory is also strange. Even if it is two students handed over by the same teacher of the same school, they are by no means similar.

So, it's not surprising what it looks like.

Ye Qingxuan decided to get a big vote altogether.

Since there is no one before, then simply... there will be no one to come!

-

Two days later, return to the outside of the market.

The navies of the various countries are still stationed in place, and they are heavily guarded. There have been several frictions in the past few days. All parties have tried their best to coordinate and avoid meaningless fights, but the situation is still like a tight string, and I don't know when it will break under the huge pressure of the war movement.

Everyone is paying attention to the situation in Guixu.

In the past few days, long and mighty movements have sometimes sounded from the ancient city. Although it is impossible to detect from the inside, from the outside, the changes are clear.

The huge etheric turbulence still covers the entire sea area, making everyone inaccessible, and everyone can only speculate through the faint changes after the etheric turbulence.

Obviously, natural disasters are about to be born. But the situation is very strange.

However, in addition to the jaw-dropping and rapid changes in the first two days, the ruined city fell into silence in the following days.

The transformation has become extremely slow, which is unbearably slow.

It's like... dystocia.

Far away in the holy city, under the supervision of the huge nebula in the central temple, Archbishop Albert left the Harazi, lethargic. Sometimes I raised my hand lazily, wiped the saliva from the corner of my mouth, raised my eyes and glanced, retracted my sight, and continued to sleep soundly.

Unfortunately, after the wounded half of his face healed, he did not return to the past, his muscles and muscles were bare, and he looked terrifying.

For a long time, when he was full, he opened his eyes and saw the figure next to him.

The cardinal of the Cardinal Church stood quietly under the nebula, looking up at the flash of Guixu, silent and still.

"Are you awake?"

"Enough sleep." Albert wiped the saliva from the corner of his mouth, rubbed his eyes, and stood up: "When did you come? Why didn't you call me?"

"Just arrived, you slept soundly, I didn't call." The old bishop shook his head, and withdrew his gaze from the flash of Guixu: "How long has this situation lasted?"

"It's been over a week."

Albert said listlessly: "Does natural disasters cause dystocia? It is anxious for us who are not even midwives."

"Production also requires skill." The old man shook his head: "Don't worry."

"It sounds like you have experience." Albert smiled.

"Well, yes."

The old man sighed softly: "In the early years, I served in a small church in the south. There are two doctors in the town, but one is responsible for shaving his head and the other is only for bloodletting treatment.

Sometimes a decent midwife can't be found, so they can only come to church to find someone to help.

The women there got married very early, and it was too late to be a mother at the age of 16, and it was not uncommon for dystocia. To produce once is to gamble once for life.

Sometimes I have to go to the clinic overnight with the priest at the time to deliver babies. But sometimes no matter how good the craft is, it’s useless, and often you have to face choices..."

"Let me guess."

Albert squeezed his chin and laughed: "Do you want a child or a mother?"

The old bishop shrugged.

"What did they choose?"

The old bishop did not speak, and the topic was over.

Neither person spoke.

Long silence.

After a long time, the old bishop raised his head from his meditation, and said softly: "Let Chopin send out the signal, it will change later, lest there will be more nights and dreams."

Albert's smile no longer, "Are you sure?"

"Sometimes, just waiting is of no use, it will only bring pain to both parties."

The old bishop's eyes were silent, "I always need to make up my mind."

A power of attorney signed by the Holy See was placed in front of Albert. Albert's expression twitched slightly, he sighed and waved.

The mighty pipe organ sounded from above the central temple and echoed in the steel city. Thousands of bell towers rang in unison, and the aftermath spread to all directions.

Listening to the bell, Albert seemed to be exhausted. He lay down on the chair again and shook his head: "Sometimes, I really envy you people who can make up their minds."

The tone seemed ironic, causing the old bishop to shake his head and smile bitterly.

"Do you know how I used to solve the problem of dystocia?"

The old man made an injection: "A shot of oxytocin is enough."

Albert was stunned.

"Albert, it was never me who made up his mind. How can human beings have such courage?" The old bishop patted his shoulder and turned away:

"Whether the child or the mother survives, let the gods decide for us."

In the silence, only the sound of footsteps went away~IndoMTL.com~Albert did not speak, and closed his eyes.

-

Ye Qingxuan opened his eyes from the dream.

He hasn't dreamed for a long time, but just now, he had another nightmare, dreaming of countless music theories like an ocean, and buried himself.

But when he woke up, he saw countless book pages and dense handwriting around him. I don't know how many times he has revised it, deleted it, and added how many movements.

There is also the trembling old nun in the corner.

Until now, he didn't hear the faint chime from afar.

In the bell, there seemed to be signs and orders that made the old nun shudder, knelt down on the ground, raised her head, and rolled her eyes.

It seems to be epilepsy, but people with epilepsy will not have such exuberant flames in their bodies.

As if the furnace was lit.

The gloomy hall was illuminated by the firelight in the old shell, and the etheric fluctuations like a hurricane burst from the shell and swept in all directions.

All the masters woke up and looked at the old nun in astonishment.

Even if I have seen the power possessed by the saints, when Schubert is running at full strength at this moment, everyone's shells have a pain of being crushed.

At this moment, they finally recognized the gap between themselves and the saints.

That is a huge distance like Tianyuan.

In the body of the old nun, Schubert's music theory slammed into motion, almost self-destructive exuding violent power. I don't care about anything, even myself.

Amidst the roar of self-destruction, Ye Qingxuan heard the last prayer of the old nun:

"Dust is returned to dust, soil is returned to mud, and ashes is returned to ashes..."

May the gods protect my soul.