Chapter 130
This flag, which had become almost Elizabeth's nightmare, had somehow been waiting on the shore for some time.
The spearhead, as swift as lightning, pierced through Elizabeth's arms like a dragon, and with a thud, pierced her body.
The tip of the gun pierced through her back, extending more than half a meter.
Elizabeth painfully vomited out the elixir, golden blood staining the banner. She tried to change her nature once again to escape, but Joan of Arc simply raised her spear with one hand and lifted her off the ground!
The four sides are empty, the center is pierced, the drumbeat is about to stop... there is no way to escape.
Hebe slowly walked to the alchemy cauldron and took the wooden stick in his hand.
The two exchanged a knowing glance, Joan of Arc, holding the spear in one hand, slammed Elizabeth, who was hanging from it, to the ground.
Hebe pressed the stick against the back of her head.
The sun finally rose.
Elizabeth, who was still struggling, suddenly froze. She turned her head and looked at the undulating "hills" around her.
It wasn't a hillside, but a vast Northerners watching her with anger and vengeance.
She turned her head with all her might, supporting her body with her mutilated hand, her bloodshot eyes gazing at the island across the sea.
Just a little bit more, just a tiny bit more...
But then Hebe's "gentle" voice came from behind him. "Are you looking for Nero? She died even before you."
Elizabeth caught a glimpse of Skadi out of the corner of her eye and knew that what Hebe said was absolutely true.
"Do you know why we forced you to this place?" Joan of Arc's voice came coldly from the side. She raised her hand and pointed into the distance. "That's Domremy, my hometown."
There is no clock tower there.
So even if Elizabeth managed to escape to the other side, she would only die in Domremy, filled with resentment.
This Grand Harmonizer, who had used the name of cinnabar and spiritual dew to prolong his life for hundreds of years and maintain his youthful beauty, could only silently press his face to the ground.
Elizabeth opened her mouth, trying to make a sound, but no sound came out.
Miraculously, she harbored little resentment deep down.
The words of those philosophers echoed in her heart like the tides, and a sense of enlightenment slowly rose within her.
'Using water as a flower, the flower as a body, and the staff as a means of punishment—internal and external alternating, surface and essence interchangeable... She is teaching me! She is truly teaching me...'
Elizabeth was no longer young; instead, she aged rapidly in the sunlight, gradually turning into dull dust that scattered in all directions.
She looked at her mutilated hands, and tears welled up in the corners of her dry eyes.
"What?! It's all... dirty now..."
Elizabeth, one of the Three Grand Harmonizers, died in a way completely out of character for her status, her face disheveled and humiliating.
Before Hebe's eyes, the Completion Rate the Lostbelt had reached fifty percent.
Medea knows everything.
At this point, the Lostbelt walkthrough is at 50%.
But Hebe knew that as long as she didn't beat Eris to her knees, even if the Lostbelt's Completion Rate reached 99%, it would still be the same as 0.
However, for the Northern army, filled with anger and revenge, this was undoubtedly a victory to celebrate... They desperately needed such a victory to wash away their centuries-old blood feud.
As the leader of this war, Joan of Arc also needed this victory to console her tense heart since her rebirth.
They all knew Nero was dead, but it was not appropriate to publicize Nero death; Elizabeth, however, was a fine prize.
The Pure Water Spirit and the Maid of Orléans exchanged a glance, and both saw a relieved smile on each other's faces.
Hebe's smile was faint and detached, while Joan of Arc of Arc held her head high, displaying a stubbornness and pride.
"It's your turn to celebrate now." Hebe smiled slightly at Joan of Arc, and was about to step back when the latter grabbed her arm.
Joan of Arc cried out:
"Brothers and sisters in the North... we have won!"
"We have rightfully defeated the Atlantis Grand Harmonizer and killed her here."
"Now, let's celebrate this great victory!"
The crowd cheered, their voices shaking the heavens and the sea, silencing the sea breeze and the sound of the tide.
Everyone was laughing, crying, hugging and kissing each other.
Joan of Arc raised the banner high, a banner that was scorched by flames and stained with dew and blood, no longer pure white.
Its edges were even torn and tattered, as if they had been violently ripped or cut.
But when the iris banner fluttered in the air, everyone felt a sense of sacredness—for this glory did not come entirely from a gift, but from the hard work and struggle they had earned with their own hands.
The cheers gradually subsided, and people all over the mountains and fields gazed with reverence at the flag, which was no longer perfect and no longer as beautiful as it once was.
Hebe stared at Joan of Arc's profile, watching her raise the flag.
A melancholy tinge inexplicably settled over those deep green eyes.
Hebe could sense a massive structure taking shape from nothingness, a color called "authoritarianism," but before that, the flames of heroism were burning fiercely.
But what is the price of this fire?
The two girls stood side by side, their fingers intertwined tightly.
At such close proximity, it wasn't just about exchanging the warmth of each other's palms; even Hebe's innermost thoughts could be heard trembling slightly.
Joan of Arc was still smiling, but there seemed to be tears in the corners of her eyes. Hebe didn't dare to look closely and quickly turned her head away.
How grand that authority was! Yet Hebe could sense that in the engine of war, only the smallest of loves and hates were burning.
Hebe's arm was suddenly lifted up by Joan of Arc.
She heard the Maid of Orléans beside her say in a clear and resonant voice, "Long live the King of Mycenae!"
Everyone shuddered, as if drawing strength from their own hearts and from history from this familiar title.
They looked up at the heavy, black iron Crown of Thorns above Hebe's head.
Four hundred years ago, they were no longer Atlantis. It was Ys who completely abandoned them, regarded them as enemies, and repeatedly attacked, besieged, and slaughtered them... Now, which of the Northerners has not had a blood feud with Ys for generations?
For two hundred years, the legend of the city-state of Mycenae has circulated in the North, and their ancestors spoke with certainty that they were no longer unguided, homeless exiles... To this day, the name of Mycenae is still passed down by word of mouth among the inhabitants of the North.
Since a hundred years ago, the resistance in the North has never ceased. The title of "King of the Northern Territory" is not a glorious title, nor is it a title to be enjoyed.
Throughout history, none of the King of the Northern Territory have died peacefully in their beds; without exception, they all perished on the battlefields of struggle.
His death was heroic, his death was magnificent.
Ultimately, their goal is to unite the North so that it will no longer be bullied.
Ultimately, "Northern Territory" is also a derogatory term for Ys.
Therefore, the North needs a new name. Perhaps Agor, or... Mycenae.
Cheers finally broke out.
The cheers were even louder than before.
"Long live the King of Mycenae! Long live the King of Mycenae!"
The establishment of Mycenae was undoubtedly a matter that required a long period of preparation, but at this moment everything was simplified and seemed natural.
After all, when almost everyone in the Northerners is united, any decree can be successfully implemented.
On that day, Hebe issued only two orders through Joan of Arc.
The first order is to establish a city on the very island where the Grand Harmonizer was killed.
Although everyone knew that Mycenae would inevitably march south, crush the chaotic legions, and head straight for Ys City, the heart of Atlantis... before that, the city had to be built, whether for psychological comfort or out of practical necessity.
This city-state was named "Agor".
The second command was to establish an academy based on Hebe's disciples and followers.
Whether it is a city-state or a nation, a mainstream ideology is needed as a central axis, especially during times of war.
Hebe certainly allowed the exchange and dissemination of harmless ideas, like the Hundred Schools of Thought... but that could only be implemented after everything had settled down, and the existence of mainstream ideas was equally important.
Joan of Arc, who was aware of the "Philosophical Chaos," also agreed with this point.
By then, Hebe will inevitably be gone.
Therefore, in order to properly control the situation, Hebe ordered Skadi to succeed her as the headmaster.
This academy, combining the characteristics of both Hebe and Joan of Arc, was named... "Narcissus Cross Academy".
The obvious concerns have been resolved, but Hebe still has some questions that need to be answered.
She went to a Beside the Spring and soaked her hands and the wooden stick in it.
A few minutes later, Hebe began to hear intermittent sounds, which were initially so faint as to be almost inaudible, and then became as hoarse as the sound of someone with chapped lips.
It was half an hour later before the other person could speak fluently.
"Hello, young junior, Narcissus, who possesses the virtues of wisdom, benevolence, and courage... Medea, the guardian of Heracles Island, greets you, and may Atinan protect you."
The other person seemed to be holding back their emotions, and kept rambling on and on.
"I never imagined that, a hundred years later, I would be able to return to my homeland. Oh, my Heracles Island, which was once lush and verdant, covered with waterways."
"The first king of Mycenae once reigned here, seeking an opportunity to perform lost melodies."
"Musicians who sowed chaos once set foot here, and found a moment of inner peace here;"
"The wise men who imparted the truth once visited this place, seeking the supreme wisdom of the water systems."
"But Isu's fleet also came here, and their Tuners also came here, not seeking opportunity, nor seeking tranquility, and far removed from wisdom!"
Medea said angrily, "These self-proclaimed civilized people are more like barbarians!"
"They broke the ancient covenant, abducted my sisters and me to the capital, enslaved our bodies, tormented our souls, and tried to prolong our prematurely decaying forms and their sin-stained lives."
"I curse them! I curse that all their glory will turn to ashes! I curse that their city-states will sink into the deep waters! I curse that everything in Atlantis will never be recovered!"
This formless Pure Water Spirit vented its emotions through both crying and laughing.
Hebe listened quietly until she finished venting and apologized to him, then he spoke.
"There's no need to apologize to me, Miss Medea," Hebe said calmly. "I had a few questions I wanted to ask you... but what you just said has only made my questions more numerous..."
"No problem, Ismara," Medea sniffed and answered confidently. "Ask me, I can answer anything!"
202 Then I'll ask you, then you ask me.
Hebe raised an eyebrow.
What a boastful tone!
She shifted to a more comfortable position and sat by the Beside the Spring.
"My first question concerns the gods," Hebe said carefully. "Do you know Janus? Or the October Governor, or perhaps, the Gatekeeper?"
This is a problem that has troubled Hebe for a long time.
The Gatekeeper of the October Governor is an ancient ruler whose name, Janus, was highly revered in Roman times and regarded as a two-faced gatekeeper, connecting the path of the past and the future.
In other words, this government has sovereignty over all doors in the world. This includes not only physical doors, but also doors in dreams, wastelands, and many other conceptual ones.
Naturally, the many orifices on the human body are also included in the concept of doors and closures.
Hebe had consulted the books in the Silent Bookstore and knew that when the apprentices Dream Entry into the Wasteland, the "Side Gate" they passed through was also under the jurisdiction of the gatekeeper.
This is a pragmatic and low-key leader.
After He blessed Hebe in the Eastern Lostbelt, He delayed opening the Side Gate until Hebe had to personally reach the seas when Hebe needed to enter the Atlantis Lostbelt.
The gatekeeper certainly wouldn't deliberately make things difficult for Hebe, so there's only one possibility: this ruler believes that entering Atlantis is extremely dangerous!
"I don't know who the Gatekeeper is," Medea replied, "But 'Janus' is the alias of the Great God Attinan in Isu."
Hebe was speechless.