Chapter 245: I Don’t Care

As a subordinate of Ye Qingxuan, Mabel was protected by the contract. But intentionally or unintentionally, Ye Qingxuan had not stipulated whether or not his subordinates could attack the Masters.

Up until now, all the talents of the realm had just been reacting to the white-haired b*stard’s crazy ideas.

There was not one good thing in the whole freaking Anglo Kingdom!

The ten or so Masters glanced at each other and selected a few unlucky ones from their number. They did not dare to hesitate any longer. The unlucky ones could not help but grit their teeth and stamp their feet before walking unwillingly towards Ye Qingxuan. They pressed down on his limbs, chest, back, and forehead, using all their might to help him suppress the surging music theory, not daring to slacken even a little bit.

Seeing that others had taken care of it, those that were left behind couldn’t help but breath a sigh of relief. But in a few moments, they saw one of the old men begin to tremble all over. His eyes rolled over to their whites as he looked up and spat out a mouthful of blood. It seemed he couldn’t handle it!

Everyone was horrified and stunned.

It had only been a few minutes!

It was not that these Masters were not very used to helping their students suppress their music theory, it was just that no matter how big their problems were, it was no pressure for the Masters. And now, in order to ensure that nothing would go wrong five masters were suppressing the music theory of one quasi-Master, and they could not even stand it for five minutes!

After losing one of their numbers, the other four quickly trembled and were on the verge of collapse.

“Monster…” The old man was panting. He wiped the blood away from his mouth and thought of that unimaginably frightening music theory that he had just witnessed. His face went pale as he looked at his companions. “Five people aren’t enough! 15, we need at least 15! A Scepter might be enough. Quickly! We can’t hold on!”

For a moment, all that could be heard was the sound of panting.

…

At the moment, regardless of the other Masters rushing over to help save him from this awful mess, Ye Qingxuan was already on fire in the illusion. If it hadn’t been for the group of Masters supporting him on the outside he wouldn’t have been able to bear it.

He didn’t know if this counted as a great irony or not.

A Grand Inquisitor who always sent people to the stake was being cast into the flames himself…

But for some reason, he suddenly felt less pain.

“Feeling” was a purely imaginary piece of vocabulary, unquantifiable and nonsensical. But right now, Ye Qingxuan was indeed experiencing such a vivid feeling.

The King of the Sun was weakening!

But what was most obvious was that he was not dead yet. Although he was a little frightened at first, after getting used to it he found out what it was like. After the initial burst of terror, it would not rise again quickly, but there would be a faint, unsustainable feeling. It was as painful as a blazing sun but as fleeting as a candle in the wind.

Ye Qingxuan raised his head with great effort and looked at the King of the Sun. His eyeballs that had been nearly turned to glass were huge and full of confusion and even a little disappointment that the expected abuse had not come. “Is that it?”

“…” Within the flames, the King of the Sun’s face was cold but also betrayed a bit of stiffness, and a trace of incomprehension. The flames were dying. Dying rapidly.

He was like water without a source or a fire without fuel. No matter what he did, his past invincible might that allowed to do as he pleased was beginning to dry up, and he would soon be powerless. Moreover, the other kings had not acted, instead choosing to do nothing. In the process of putting forth his power, his form began to wane.

The King of the Sun’s face was distorted in the twisting air. Although he could not see his face clearly, Ye Qingxuan was sure it must be quite interesting.

“Excellent.” Ye Qingxuan laughed hoarsely even as the fire burned around him. “What an interesting expression for the prophet who so ambitiously planned out the future of the world. All you kings who dominate the world can’t even handle an unrepentant scoundrel like me.”

The burning figure was as brilliant as the setting sun. He laughed, and in the laughter the flames swept out like crimson silk, revealing bones that had been bleached pure white. The skeleton was bathed in flames, like someone immersed in warm water. The silky muscles of his face twitched into the semblance of a pleasant smile.

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The flame had not killed him.

He was alive again.

He stood before the ancient kings once more.

“Perhaps you think you can plan out the whole future, and that everybody is obligated to make concessions or sacrifices for your grand design. But that’s not how it is…” As he spoke with his hoarse voice, his flesh began to grow on his bones. Pieces of Ye Qingxuan’s face began to appear on his skull. The flame was rendered into pure white, almost silver hair that flowed out behind him.

“Just listen,” the skeleton whispered. An ear-piercing noise rang out from the flames. The skeleton stretched out his fingers and began to pluck at his rib-bones as if he was playing a stringed instrument.

The scraping of bone upon bone produced a shrill sound. It was like the friction of the Earth’s crust causing the mountains to cry out, or like a hurricane sweeping through causing the waves to crash, or like thousands of hammers falling at the same time.

At first, the sound was harsh and disordered and maddeningly chaotic. But soon, under the orderly movements of the skeleton’s fingers, the disordered tempos were merged into one, and in this natural and smooth harmony, a rhythmic and sonorous melody appeared.

Countless notes appeared on Ye Qingxuan’s skeleton, wriggling about like living things. A colossus loomed out of the turbulent illusions behind him.

An embryo of terror was gestating. A sleeping beast had opened one of its eyes.

It was the Symphony of Predestination that had been forcibly frozen!

Now, this Symphony of Predestination that had only existed in his drafts and conceptions was about to be completed, just as the giant sleeping in the layers of ice began to slowly open its eyes. There was a loud roar, and white cracks began to spread through the ice. At the same time, the illusions of the kings were continuously flashing, like candles in the wind, their power spent.

Their existence was being repelled.

A pair of formless hands forcibly ripped them out of the projection of the Ultimate, breaking the arrays that they had set all those years ago and wiping away all hope of an invasion. But they were hidden deep in the Ultimate’s source of essence. There was nothing they could do in response. They fell silent.

A roar sounded out from the illusion.

Outside the illusion, countless detailed alchemy arrays began to appear on the broken stone plate. They trembled and emitted a burning glow.

The silent kings tried one final attack, setting off monstrous waves through Ye Qingxuan’s body and consciousness simultaneously. They had no hope of victory. This was purely to cause destruction, even if it meant they perished together.

After all, they were nothing more than duplicate projections here. And since the battlefield was Ye Qingxuan’s body, even if they had no way to win they could still thoroughly wipe everything out.

The King of the Sun was the only one who moved. He stretched out his hands and collected the shadows of the other kings to him, gathering them into the brilliant sunlight that surrounded him.

The kings were all ignited by the blazing sun, making it even larger and more dignified than ever before, as if it had sole dominion over creation and destruction.

“We will never let you have a hand in this world’s future!”

The sunlight that was so brilliant one could not look at it directly launched an all-out attack on Ye Qingxuan’s as yet incomplete Symphony of Predestination.

Opposing this was a pair of unwavering dark eye holes that stared back like cold eyes.

“You outdated trash can stay here yourselves,” came the soft, hoarse reply. “I don’t care!”

The notes began to shake violently as countless strains of music theory were gathered together in one place. Innumerable chaotic modifications were completed in an instant, until finally, Ye Qingxuan’s Rubik’s cube-like Symphony of Predestination quickly became unstable under the immense pressure, began to overlap on itself, and started changing wildly as it engulfed his broken bones and then it suddenly slammed into the blazing sun!

It was like a moth throwing itself into the flames.

At the moment of impact, all went silent.