Chapter 118
"Another group has fled."
"Yes, another batch of prey has escaped."
The twenty knights clapped their sword hilts with delight, feeling joy because this was the power that Lord Nero had promised.
The knight captain raised his arm and tapped the back of his hand, producing a series of cheerful Musical Note.
"Ninth Legion, Fourteenth Squad, assemble and move out!" the knight captain commanded. "Fellow countrymen, don't let the prey escape."
These bronze knights, several meters tall, carried weapons of the same material and walked on the water as if on flat ground. They rested their greatswords on their arms, producing a harmonious sound like playing string instruments.
These were strings tuned for them beforehand by the Tuners; with just one action, these brass knights could unleash the melodies within their weapons, releasing a devastating symphony.
Their ability to move freely and effortlessly on the sea is also thanks to the Tuners.
Golden seawater rose from beneath their feet, forming a road that allowed the knight squad to travel at high speed.
The knight captain raised his greatsword. He could see the port lighthouse of Domremy Island, the clock tower standing in the square, and the two female prey who seemed to have not yet escaped.
"This is mine, don't you dare take it!"
The knight captain laughed wildly as he swung his greatsword, his rock and metal body fueled by flames, as he cleaved down at his two young prey.
The knights behind him played a harmonious melody, a tune that served both to honor their captain's heroic bearing and to celebrate their impending slaughter.
Unlike ordinary humanoid Golem Knights, the knight captain is designed as a centaur.
So he not only loves using greatswords, but also prefers to crush the bodies of weak prey with his rock and metal hooves. He enjoys feeling the relief of crushing skulls and hearts through the spiritual dew flowing through his body.
This time was no different. He ran around Hebe and Jeanne playfully, not slashing down with his sword, but instead circling behind Hebe at high speed and raising his front leg to stomp on her back.
The knight captain had never been so happy. He felt as if he were riding on a wave, his consciousness floating in the ebb and flow.
The knight squad stood frozen in place, their arms still raised, swords resting on their shoulders, the echoes lingering in the air, making them appear particularly comical.
Hebe stood in the open space, with a half-collapsed statue behind him. At the junction of his human and horse bodies, there was an incongruous crack, through which the cavity inside could be seen.
A semi-viscous nectar, exuding a strong aroma of alcohol, was gently flowing in Hebe's palm, gradually merging with her hand.
"Youthful Dew is the vessel used by knights to house their consciousness. It is encased in a golem of brass and white stone, beating like a heart and circulating like blood."
Hebe said to Jeanne, "But as you know, the Pure Water Spirit is the prototype of the Youthful Dew, so it is easy for it to call back its own kind."
Of course, Pure Water Spirit alone are not enough; one also needs to have a sufficient understanding of these Golem Knights in order to break the container and extract the spiritual dew from their bodies.
Unfortunately, Hebe is both Pure Water Spirit who can move freely and Golem Knights served for a long time.
Hebe clapped her hands, and golden dew flowed from the eyes of the nineteen knights, flowing into her palms as if they were alive.
Despite absorbing the spiritual dew of twenty knights, Hebe's body didn't change much. She glanced at the curve of Jeanne's chest, then at herself, and sighed.
"It's solved."
Hebe said to Jeanne, who was somewhat stunned, and then turned and walked towards the clock tower.
Jeanne suddenly felt uneasy. "What are you going to do?"
Hebe, however, did not stop and quickly arrived at the clock tower.
To Jeanne's astonishment, the clock tower that had stood for centuries, representing Atlantis's sovereignty over the Domremy Island, collapsed in an instant.
Either don't do it at all, or do it thoroughly.
Jeanne heard Hebe's indifferent reply from the depths of his heart.
183. One lucky winner will be randomly selected.
Atlantis's sovereignty is intertwined with its music; the power of its Grand Symphony travels far and wide across the sea through the clock tower.
If a place has no clock tower, it means that it is an uncivilized wilderness, which is often synonymous with "enemy".
Of course, if the already constructed clock tower were torn down, it would signify the greatest rebellion.
This means the disruption of the Grand Symphony. From this moment on, Domremy Island will become yet another isolated island suspended outside the harmonious melody, and geographically, it will gradually drift towards the North.
Yes, that's one method... the dumbest one.
Hebe's thoughts echoed in Jeanne's ears.
The latter's expression became extremely complicated.
Each existing clock tower is a coordinate left by the Philosopher King himself, and when he plays the Grand Symphony, the entire high seas resonate with it.
Even today, Mozart, the Grand Harmonizer known as the closest to the Philosopher King among the Three Grand Harmonizers and represented by "Ore," cannot rebuild a new bell tower.
In fact, Mozart ultimately took the risk of overstepping his bounds and playing the Grand Symphony because many of the bell towers were destroyed during the Philosophical Chaos and the Northern Rebellion, causing the citizens of Atlantis, under the influence of the Grand Symphony, to exhibit an increasingly unrestrained and fanatical tendency.
Unfortunately, by that time, most of the clock towers in Atlantis had disappeared.
Jeanne silently stepped forward and began to dismantle the clock tower with Hebe.
Hebe looked at her with surprise.
"What are you doing... trying to compete with me to do the work?"
Hebe didn't quite understand Jeanne's actions.
Demolishing the clock tower would do more harm than good. Hebe did it to advance the Completion Rate, but what was Jeanne after?
But Jeanne kept moving her hands, trying her best to suppress the rise and fall of her voice.
It contained both a vague worry about the future and a sigh for a predetermined fate.
"Ishtar, we are accomplices."
Jeanne said to Hebe.
"Destroying the clock tower is a terrible crime. But even if it means being swallowed and dissolved by deep water, I will not let you suffer alone."
The clock tower trembled and roared as it swayed and fell to the ground, but the large bronze bell at the very top remained silent.
It hasn't rung since Remus lost his ability to work.
Or perhaps it was ringing, but was drowned out by the roar of the collapsing clock tower. And so began the divergence of all destinies.
Hebe remained silent, watching as her Completion Rate increased.
Jeanne didn't speak either. She turned her face to the side, her eyes filled with the distance, or rather, her eyes filled with Hebe.
In the Orleans region, a torment that Nero found pleasurable was taking place.
This is an island that is almost a third larger than Domremy and has a very nice port.
Nero's army had set out from here many times to conquer the barbarians in the north.
This is why the island's inhabitants have always taken it for granted that they are exempt from the sun's rays, as if Nero's massacre of other islands had nothing to do with them.
The obese man, who had been personally appointed tribunal by Nero, knelt on the ground, his face contorted with fear, and something that looked like sweat or tears slid down his fat face, making him appear both pathetic and ridiculous.
"Lord Nero ...we...we haven't done anything wrong...keep us, keep us alive, we can help the citizens with supplies..."
This tribune had a bad reputation on the island, and many people hated his greed, yet he was now taking the initiative to plead for the island's residents.
The tribunal didn't know why he would risk his life to plead with Nero for the sake of these civilians; his mind was completely blank at that moment.
But he knew that Nero's personality was flamboyant and extravagant, his behavior exaggerated, and he even had a penchant for theatricality.
"If we can satisfy her desire to perform in this way, perhaps we can save these innocent civilians..." the tribunal thought.
The Golem Knights made way.
Nero, dressed in pure white silk, emerged from the throng of knights.
If Hebe were here, she would find that she looks very similar to Arthur.
Their temperaments are also very similar... but there are still subtle differences.
Both were tyrants, but Arthur's tyranny was to maintain his rule over the country, while Nero's was for his own pleasure and enjoyment.
She bent down, her eyes and brows breaking into a smile.
"Look, look!" Nero straightened up and spread his arms wide to his legion. "What a dutiful tribunal he is! He argues his case and pleads for every innocent man!"
Nero's voice was light and high-pitched, with a strong theatrical quality.
"On the island we massacred last week, were there any civilian protectors as dedicated as these? No."
Nero's long, white arms swung powerfully in the air, her voice rising and falling in a dramatic rhythm.
The civilians of the entire island cast their gazes with a mixture of fear and obsequiousness, watching Nero's "improvisational performance" with dread, fearing that a single misstep would lead to her ordering their massacre.
"You did a good job, you did very well," Nero said with a smile, her eyes crinkling as if she were very happy.
The Grand Harmonizer finally brought to a close this almost agonizing performance.
The obese tribunal still smiled ingratiatingly.
The island's inhabitants also breathed a quiet sigh of relief; at least their lives were saved.
Then Nero waved his hand. "Slaughter them."
"Huh?" The tribunal's eyebrows drooped.
The Golem Knights cheered and raised their weapons, smashing the tribunal's comical, fat face until it was dented.
This greedy yet dutiful tribune died just like that. He thought that because he was promoted by Nero, his words would carry some weight. But in fact, Nero had already forgotten his name the day after he was appointed.
In truth, Nero didn't really care about the island, otherwise she wouldn't have put the note with the island's name on it into the box.
"Slaughter them slowly!" Nero shouted again, "My inspiration still needs nurturing!"
Northern chiefdoms.
Queen Boudica, with her beautiful red hair, was reading Jeanne's letter to her over and over again.
The letter was short but detailed, and Boudica was deeply moved by just a few words.
Of course, she had her reasons to resist... Which person in the North didn't have a grudge against Nero?
Going back several decades, Boudica was also a native of Atlantis until the clock tower in her hometown collapsed due to overuse during the war.
Subsequently, the Second Legion, returning in triumph, conveniently massacred her hometown... Needless to say, this was naturally Nero's legion as well.
"No need for further words," Queen Boudica said to her retinue. "My homeland was completely wiped out by Nero, my husband was beheaded by Nero, and his head was made into a musical instrument, which is still in her palace. My two daughters were killed by her in extremely cruel ways and made into artifacts..."
"Do we really have a truce or a window of reconciliation?" Boudica asked coldly. "Aren't we always at war?!"
As a result, there were no more dissenting voices.
The northern chiefdoms accepted refugees who had fled from Domremy Island.
As dusk fell, Hebe and Jeanne arrived in the North.
184 Boudica Must Die
Queen Boudica of the Northern Chiefdom warmly received them.
Hebe's past life; this queen was a real person.
She was a fighter in Britain, and her opponent was naturally the governor under the Roman Empire emperor Nero Claudius...
Tragically, Nero himself was completely unaware of, and indifferent to, the rebellion and uprising in Britain, and could not possibly empathize with the humiliation suffered by Boudica.
By the time Nero learned of Boudica's name, the latter had already been defeated and committed suicide by poison.
In Hebe's previous life, the prototype of the King Arthur legend also came in part from Queen Boudica.
Late at night. In the boathouse that Queen Boudica had specially arranged for them, Hebe and Jeanne lay side by side on two straw mats.
Jeanne had a sudden premonition: this might be the last night they would be able to sleep peacefully.
The future Maid of Orléans of the North turned her head to look at Hebe's profile. "What do you think, Ishtar?"
"Are you referring to the North, Boudica, or Nero?"
"I have both, and I'd like to hear your opinion."
"The North is harsh, needless to say. But it is also a land of freedom. If we were to form a pirate fleet and head south, we could accomplish great things."