Chapter 139

To restore the shattered Atlantis to one.

213 The War Begins

If you can't figure out the answer, then put it aside for now.

Mozart took a deep breath, closed his eyes slightly, and frowned with worry.

He still remembered how the Philosopher King discovered him and promoted him to be his first musician; and how, over the years, he excitedly planned the details of the Grand Symphony with him.

He still remembers how they built the first Academy of Philosophy and how they established the standards for training musicians. They had worked closely together and had also argued because of some conflicts, but in the end, everything in Atlantis continued to move forward steadily like meshing gears, until this day.

Mozart would not allow the great work of the Philosopher King to be destroyed.

At that moment, he received a message from the "Fool's Ship": several more musicians had come to join the army.

"Find out their identities and then assign them to the orchestra in order."

Mozart waved his hand casually.

He didn't have time to verify their identities one by one, nor did he need to:

When the Grand Symphony is played again, regardless of whether one harbors ulterior motives, one will be encompassed by the melody of the Grand Symphony and move up and down with the conductor's baton.

Hebe boarded the warship with almost no hindrance.

In Atlantis, this warship is called the Stutiferra, meaning "Fool's Ship".

"Then there must be a lot of restrooms on this warship," Hebe said, telling a joke that no one could understand.

How can citizens whose bodies flow with spiritual essence not be considered a kind of mystical aristocracy?

The screening process for musicians was not rigorous, either because the Issu army was corrupt from top to bottom, or because they were emboldened by their position.

Hebe prefers the latter.

She's not exactly a smart person, but she has a habit of making extra plans so that she can be prepared when unexpected situations actually arise.

It appears as if Hebe foresaw the situation in advance, allowing her to prepare accordingly.

"[Turbid Heart], proceed to the upper deck immediately; repeat, proceed to the upper deck immediately."

As Hebe wandered aimlessly within the ship's permitted area, a cold, synthesized voice suddenly rang in her ears.

These are the Soul of the Dead residing on this Fool's Ship.

Of course, they are different from the Soul of the Dead who have been enlightened by the Celestial Flint in the present world, and even more different from the lively Soul of the Dead in the Silent Bookstore.

The Soul of the Dead residing on the Fool's Ship are closer to the traditional image—cold, indifferent, and ruthless.

Hebe suspected that this might be related to the way the Soul of the Dead were enlightened.

She arrived at the junction of the two decks and announced her musician's name to the metal door.

"[Turbid Heart] ".

"Temporary application has been verified. Please approve within five seconds."

Hebe did not hesitate.

Just as she is now using the pseudonym Antonio Salieri, "Turbid Heart" is naturally also a pseudonym.

After confirming her identity as a musician, Ys did not conduct any further verification of her.

Upon reaching the upper deck, Hebe did not find anyone waiting for her, but instead saw one ship's cannon after another, flashing a red glow.

These naval cannons are also different from those in the modern world; they are more like musical instruments than weapons.

"Please perform maintenance and testing on ten 'clarinet' naval guns within one standard hour."

Hebe smiled in bewilderment, "Give me the opportunity to handle the ship's cannons?"

It would seem unreasonable for her not to give Mozart a little surprise.

Isu's army advanced to the strains of a grand melody that acted as akin to radar, sweeping through the dawn mist.

Mozart was playing a casual piece in the highest cabin of the Fool's Ship.

If someone were to look down from the heavens at this moment, they would see a fiery phantom shrouding the edge of the Issu army, reminiscent of a phoenix that will be reborn from the flames.

The Soul of the Dead were becoming restless under Mozart's baton, and their high-pitched cries, centered on the Fool's Ship, spread in all directions, equally empowering every legion.

"Wide-Area Performance." Hebe was on the lower deck, recognized the technique.

Nero also demonstrated her Wide-Area Performance skills, and Elizabeth probably could as well. However, from Hebe's perspective, their level was clearly not that high.

As Grand Harmonizer, Mozart's skill far surpassed theirs. He treated the Soul of the Dead as his instruments and transformed the Fool's Ship into a bell tower for blessing and amplification.

The melody and drumbeats grew increasingly intense, while the dark clouds pressed down from the sky, surrounding the revitalized warship.

Lightning flashed, and a raging torrent swept through.

Mozart is single-handedly leading the entire army of Issu on a high-speed, rapid march!

At this rate, Isso's army will reach Burgundy this afternoon.

But that's not the most important thing. The most important thing is that Mozart is twilight.

"Not like Nero and Elizabeth, who barely made it into the Twilight rank through imperial decrees and blessings..." Hebe thought to herself, "So it's the real Twilight rank, then it's not surprising."

Now that Mozart has revealed his twilight state, all his extraordinary actions become reasonable.

But what were his achievements? Hebe fell into deep thought.

'It's unlikely to be an achievement focused on causing casualties.'

A twilight's achievements are often linked to his personal demeanor. For example, if Arthur conquers with grandeur and majesty, then her Sword in the Stone will also appear majestic and imposing.

Mozart was never known for killing or conquering.

But just as Hebe could use illusions to drag tens of thousands of people into a dream from which they could never return, if Mozart really wanted to free up his hands, he could surely dismantle Joan of Arc's army completely.

In a mere standard hour, the Fool's Ship carried the entire fleet across the vast seas and into Burgundy.

However, the sea fog surrounding the Fool's Ship remained thick.

However, this dense sea fog did not give Mozart a strange and eerie feeling. On the contrary, it was a proper change of matter, as clean and neat as ice melting into water and water condensing into vapor.

"This is the vermilion melody that Elizabeth has mastered, symbolizing the transformation of matter." Mozart looked around and stood up from the chaise longue. "Whoever this person is, their skill surpasses that of ten Nero of Elizabeth!"

Mozart accepted the challenge.

Within his thin, pale body, the flowing spiritual dew seemed to become intensely hot.

Among the three Grand Harmonizer, Nero and Elizabeth's nectar originated from the relentless exploitation and oppression of Pure Water Spirit.

But Mozart was different; he was the envoy who made the pact between Atlantis and the Pure Water Spirit in the past.

He voluntarily opened his body, allowing the Pure Water Spirit to reside within, thus completing the symbiosis between humans and the Pure Water Spirit.

As Mozart's fingers moved nimbly, the faint melody instantly became clear again, and a blazing halo gradually appeared behind his head, with thorn-like barbs growing around the dazzling circle.

That pale, thin face was gradually covered by angelic wings, yet at the crucial point, a single flaw was revealed, making it appear both sacred and fallen.

Mozart's single exposed eye gradually differentiated and overflowed with dozens of compound eyes, as dark as the cut surface of jet, but shimmering.

[The Third Mark: Serenade]

Eine kleine Nachtmusik (Eine kleine Nachtmusik)

Mozart composed this serenade on the spot during the celebration of Remus's supreme achievement. He sincerely hoped that Atlantis could reach eternity, that all the people of Issu could take control of their own destiny, and that they could have the courage to face all the unknowns.

"If the daylight is the blazing, dazzling light of the rulers, then the long night is mercy. I sincerely hope that the daylight will never come, and I sincerely hope that the night will never end!"

A drumbeat burst forth from Mozart's chest; it was the rhythm of his heart.

From the deep, thick fog, colors like stars gradually emerged, and upon closer inspection, they bore an eight-tenths resemblance to the compound eyes beneath Mozart's winged mask.

The stars resonated with each other, trying to tear apart the increasingly thick fog.

Below deck, Hebe sensed the "stars" gradually taking over the dominance of the dense fog and shook his head with a sigh.

She could sense Mozart's musical theory and understand his will from that melody.

But there is no doubt that Mozart himself had long been mired in the quagmire of Eris without realizing it.

The bright future he envisioned had actually been distorted by Eris, and was hurtling headlong into an abyss from which there was no return.

"What on earth is Jeanne doing?" Hebe sighed as he struggled with Mozart through the thick fog. "With such a good opportunity, why isn't she launching a surprise attack?"

This gray fog not only prevented the musicians on the Fool's Ship from making their way around.

It could also, conversely, serve as a warning to Joan of Arc, who was lurking in the shadows—if the Fool's Ship wasn't defeated in one decisive battle, the war would inevitably be dragged into a protracted war of attrition with an uncertain outcome.

If it comes down to attrition, Joan of Arc, relying on burning her achievements, would absolutely be no match for Mozart was empowered by the Grand Symphony.

However, just as Hebe was inwardly complaining, the entire warship suddenly shook violently.

"Enemy attack! Enemy attack!!"

A sharp explosion came from one side of the cabin, accompanied by the agonizing sounds of shattering steel and tearing flesh, all mixed together into a terrifying noise.

Hebe immediately retreated into her room and picked up Rose and Oyster Jack.

Thanks to the shelter that Hebe had previously provided, Rose was unaware of what was happening outside.

When she saw Hebe, a relieved smile appeared on her face.

"Can we go out now?"

Hebe looked at her meaningfully.

Rose's smile froze, and she became embarrassed.

"We should be able to get out now..."

Hebe's smile deepened.

"You will soon be able to ride the ocean currents out."

Let's rewind five minutes.

In the shadows of the Burgundy Islands, Joan of Arc stood silently on the Wanghai Cliff, holding her flagpole.

She gazed at the surging dark clouds in the distance, occasionally pointing her thumb at them, but there was nothing between the sky and the sea except the waves, so Joan of Arc's actions seemed completely pointless.

Joan of Joan of Arc's gaze never left her; she held her flagpole high.

A few minutes later, a thin, gray mist suddenly rose from the rolling waves.

The mist churned, occasionally revealing glimpses of starlight-like colors, creating a breathtakingly beautiful scene.

"It's Mozart..."

On the night before Hebe left, he told her to keep her eyes wide open and to look carefully when war came.

Just like their pursuit of Elizabeth, they didn't need many words; a hint or a sign was enough for them to understand each other's deeper meaning.

Joan of Arc also believed that Hebe's message to her would surely be useful.

Now she has waited for the opportunity for Hebe to fulfill her promise.

The Maid of Orléans stood with her feet firmly planted on the jagged cliff. With a mighty swing of her arm, she hurled the fiery spear into the sky.

The next instant, a strong wind suddenly swept across the sea.

Those invisible things that sail calmly on the waves also revealed their vague outlines.

The firelight streaked across the sky, plunging into the gray mist at incredible speed!

In the next instant, Joan of Arc's body was engulfed in flames, and she appeared on the Fool's Ship along with her flag and spear!

Is this a boarding maneuver?!

What audacity!

Mozart thought of it, but beyond his anger, there was also a faint sense of appreciation.