Chapter 142
Nietzsche sighed softly.
Hebe would empathize with Joan of Arc because the latter was indeed a virtuous and incorruptible Maid of Orléans... She was courageous and resourceful, possessed a noble sense of martyrdom, and had all the virtues that could be called heroism.
It is easy to find the shadow of those saviors in Joan of Arc.
The only problem is that Joan of Arc was created by Eris.
Although she was driven back by the Celestial Flint, which allowed Joan of Arc to be unaffected by Eris in this playthrough... wasn't this also part of Eris's scheme?
—Since Celestial Flint insists on letting Hebe decide history, then let her decide.
But the adjudicator and the final direction of history are not in conflict, right?
It is enough that someone rings the Bell of Ys, proclaiming the destruction of Atlantis in chaos; history does not care who rings the bell.
Whether that person was Joan of Arc or Hebe... history wouldn't care, and neither would Eris.
Even as Hebe approached Isu step by step, Nietzsche laughed heartily and gave her the green light.
He wished Hebe would rush into the Pavilion Great Palace right now and free Remus.
This was Eris's open scheme.
Nietzsche was convinced that Hebe was powerless to solve the problem.
217 A carefree madman
Mozart should have died, but the Pure Water Spirit that coexisted with him within him was absorbed by Hebe in his place.
Thus, Mozart's life was spared, and with the defeat of this Grand Harmonizer, Isso's army fought and retreated, eventually withdrawing completely from the Burgundy Province.
Then came two provinces, three provinces... The Mycenae army marched down from the north, facing Issu across the ancient Arc de Triomphe.
This triumphal arch was built by the Philosopher King Remus after his first triumph, and it is called the "Janus Gate".
After that, Remus never built another triumphal arch... and the triumphal arch built by Nero and Elizabeth in the following four hundred years could not be called a symbol of glory and justice.
Whether in the eyes of the Issuans or the Northerners who call themselves Mycenae, the "Janus Gate" is the true triumphal arch.
The stalemate did not last long, as Mozart awoke from his coma.
The Grand Harmonizer, who had lost his lover, was particularly silent, and his already pale and thin face looked even more sickly.
Mozart sat on another dark-colored chaise lounge, deep in thought for two days and nights, during which time no one dared to disturb him.
He was clearly just moving his lips and murmuring, yet his voice was strong and clear. His thin, handsome face was now etched with exhaustion.
Two days later, he summoned all his senior generals and announced the order, "Withdraw the troops."
This strange order aged Mozart by decades, but the commanders of the Golem Legion and the Tuners secretly breathed a sigh of relief.
The glorious Ys, the invincible Ys, the honorable Ys... these beautiful words come to an end today.
For the legion commanders and Tuners, these were no longer honors they needed to defend with their lives, but rather a burden.
They no longer take pride in those heroes; instead, after these heroes fall, they launch a vicious attack with mocking words.
This shows that Ys's so-called glory ceased to exist long before Atlantis was divided in two.
Over the next few centuries, it became a swollen and rotting corpse.
Of course, when a country is about to fall, there will always be loyal and righteous people who will stand up and sacrifice themselves for it.
Mozart left three legions here, and the legion commanders responsible for defending the area swore an oath to the double-headed eagle banner: We swear to hold this place, and no enemy will cross the gate before we die.
Mozart returned to Issu and quickly issued a number of decrees. Some of these decrees were baffling, while others were so radical that even a fool could see they were overly harsh.
They directly challenged the foundations of the Academy of Philosophy and the music system, and even threatened the interests of established citizen families— Mozart abolished all existing forms of slavery.
Whether they were musicians' "apprentices," philosophers' "followers," or even the "house slaves" kept by wealthy families, all were included in these laws.
These policies directly target the source of Isso's tyranny and chaos.
In this process, Mozart even had to restrain the Grand Symphony —he prohibited some overstepping boundaries and built firewalls on the core music theory parts that involved the achievements.
From Hebe's perspective, these measures are certainly correct, but they are too fast, too many, and too offensive.
If Ys is an old, worn-out chair, then Mozart's actions were like cutting off his own chair legs.
Why did he do that? How could he do such a thing?
The answer was simpler than anyone thought—it was Marie, the Pure Water Spirit who shared his life, who left a final message deep within his mind.
In the agonizing clarity of his mind, Mozart, already infected by Eris, discovers that Ys is already beyond redemption amidst the chaos.
Orpiment is the color of change; it takes one part of molten copper to extract one part of orpiment.
Soon, the lawyer went from being a revered leader to a usurper who had seized the throne. And the chaos didn't stop; instead, it escalated even further.
Officials whose interests were harmed began to misinterpret Mozart's meaning. They pretended to tell the slaves that now that they were free, they could plunder the property of free people, otherwise how could it be called freedom?
The citizens and nobles said to the free people that these lowly slaves would attack our families and take away our property, because they could do nothing but be used.
The conflict erupted, and chaos spread throughout Issus, while the gentry remained indifferent, even delighted in Mozart's predicament.
The situation began to escalate. No Human Order Mozart. The poor felt he had failed to give them what they wanted, such as unearned "freedom" and a thorough "purge" of the rich and nobles; the rich, on the other hand, knew that Mozart was trying to take a cut from them, so they simply remained silent.
In this strange atmosphere, Mozart begins to kill.
He certainly had that power, but he rarely used it. Nero was far more skilled at killing, while Elizabeth's torture techniques were exceptional.
Mozart suddenly felt a pang of nostalgia; he even began to miss his two colleagues who had always caused him trouble. If they were still alive, he could have an easier time.
"But that's fine too." A strange smile appeared on his thin, pale face. "No one can stop me now."
When Mozart killed the first citizen aristocrat, the effect was immediate. Many people fell silent, and those indecisive free citizens and slaves quickly submitted... So Mozart randomly selected another group from among them and killed them.
Killing can indeed solve many problems. This thought came to mind of the frail musician whose hands had never been stained with blood.
What was happening inside Issu was no secret to the Northern army, and theoretically, this was a good opportunity to attack...
But who knows if Mozart, blinded by rage, might, in a desperate gamble, compose a magnificent, high-octane Grand Symphony?
Thus, the North and Ys once again found themselves in a strange stalemate.
And it was in this eerie atmosphere that the Epiphany, a traditional festival of Atlantis, arrived.
In Orthodox Church tradition, Epiphany is the day the Messiah reveals his divinity.
On this day, the Star of Bethlehem shone brightly in the daylight, and Three Magi arrived from the East Cathay.
As the Messiah was baptized in the river, white doves, black ravens, and seagulls circled down together.
At the banquet celebrating her birth, pure water turned into fine wine.
These are the three miracles performed by the Messiah at the Epiphany.
Of course, this refers to the Epiphany in the present world.
In Atlantis, however, the meaning of Epiphany is much simpler.
On this day, the Philosopher King Remus met the Prophetess Sibyl, who prophesied that he would establish a great and prosperous kingdom, but that this kingdom would eventually be destroyed by the waters.
All the people of Atlantis knew Remus's answer, "... In that case, I will end the controlled fate, and I will realize the eternity that belongs to everyone."
Epiphany is also considered the founding day of Atlantis.
Coincidentally, this day was also Joan of Arc's birthday.
Epiphany Night 218
Epiphany is one of the most important festivals in Atlantis.
Even in Dantu, where the war was not yet over but only temporarily suspended, there was a festive atmosphere that could be described as grand.
Whether in the North or Ys, separated by the Janus Gate, they have begun to tacitly enjoy a brief period of peace... even though everyone knows that this fragile peace will be destroyed in a few days.
But at least now, the melodies drifting across the front lines are no longer war songs that unleash thunderstorms or summon floods, and what emerges are no longer sharp swords, but harmless flowers.
Hebe was still dressed in the same gray suit, walking leisurely across the island.
As night fell, both islands facing each other across the gate were brightly lit and decorated, and on the Isle side, there was even a grand parade of floats.
In Mycenae, there was no time for a parade of floats, but the North has always been known for its rugged culture, with both men and women boldly expressing their love. Along Hebe's journey alone, she witnessed several couples tie the knot amidst applause and cheers.
Of course, Hebe also enjoyed this treatment... Along the way, there were young men in their prime who stopped her, stammering as they expressed their feelings, and young girls wearing flower crowns who shyly stuffed handmade gifts into her arms. Overall, the latter were more common.
Hebe always politely declined, no matter who it was. But this was somewhat of a hassle, so she turned a corner and took out a mask to cover her face.
After concealing her excessively delicate face, Hebe was finally free from people coming up to confess their feelings every now and then.
But what puzzled Hebe was that, ever since she put on the mask, the vendors had started to entice her with even more enthusiasm.
"Why is this happening... and I'm already wearing a mask, so why are they trying to sell me one?"
After refusing the fifth vendor who came to sell theatrical masks, Hebe sighed and rubbed her forehead in exasperation.
"Distinguished guest, you may not know this, but the masks they are selling are not just for you."
Someone struck up a conversation with her, and when Hebe looked over, she saw it was a vendor selling flower wreaths.
The latter looked to be about fifteen or sixteen years old, wearing a colorful long dress, dressed like a modern Hawaiian islander.
Hebe thought about it for a moment and realized that it was indeed true. The vendors who sold her masks, bracelets, earrings, and anklets all sold two or even three items at a time.
At first, Hebe thought they were greedy, but now she thinks she may have misunderstood.
"Oh dear, this is a local custom," the vendor explained with a smile. "—During the Epiphany celebrations, both men and women who have a sweetheart will wear masks."
Hebe chuckled to herself.
Her original intention was simply to avoid trouble, which is why she chose to wear a mask... No wonder the vendors were all carrying pairs of goods when they came to sell their wares.
"The war isn't over yet...who knows, it might break out again soon after Epiphany," Hebe remarked casually. "Why is the festive atmosphere so strong?"
"Well... you're right, sir." The vendor smiled helplessly. "But what does that have to do with us? As long as the sky doesn't fall or the water doesn't flood, we still have to live our lives as usual. There's no reason to stop eating just because you're afraid of choking."
Hebe thought for a moment and nodded slightly.
"By the way, speaking of daily life... would you like to take a look at my flower wreaths?" The vendor changed the subject and began to promote the colorful flower wreaths on his stall.
"Legend has it that when the Philosopher King Remus was still a wandering musician, he encountered a maiden named Sybil, wearing a flower crown, nearby... Under the moonlight, the Philosopher King's iron mask was melted by the prophet's flower crown, and they vowed to stay together forever..."
Hebe found it both strange and amusing.
This is largely because creating anecdotes about those in power is a hobby of all civilizations.
The vendor, looking at the feather-like gray mask on Hebe's face, spoke with even more enthusiasm and eagerness, "Look, this wreath is woven from irises and lilies. It's been specially treated, so the fragrance can last for a month, and if stored properly, it can even last for three months."
Iris, lily...
Hebe didn't answer immediately. She looked up at the night sky, where several fireworks, unable to resist the temptation, had already bloomed, displaying magnificent and colorful hues.
The vendor had already listed the various flower crowns on her stall, from most expensive to cheapest.
Hebe's eyes didn't show much emotion. She pointed to a crown made of irises and lilies on the stall. "How much does this crown cost?"
The vendor was overjoyed and quoted a slightly expensive price.
She was also somewhat uneasy, fearing that Hebe would be displeased and storm off.
"If I were to set the prices myself, I would definitely lower them..." the small vendor thought. "Unfortunately, the bulk of this business doesn't belong to me, but to the Deep Sea Church. The priests refuse to lower the prices, so what can I do?"
It wasn't that no one had asked about the price before, but when they heard it, they all backed down—the reason is simple.
The peace brought about by the Epiphany is extremely fragile. Who knows when the flames of war will reignite? In this situation, is it worth spending a lot of money to buy a crown that cannot be eaten or drunk?
To the small vendor's great delight, Hebe simply said, "Put this lily crown on for me."
There was a hint of secret expectation in her voice.
The vendor was both surprised and delighted. She quickly took off the brightest flower crown, added some decorative ribbons to it, and respectfully handed it to Hebe.
Hebe accepted the floral crown, pausing slightly. "This shouldn't be your own business, right? You're neither a musician nor a philosopher, yet this crown seems to possess a special power."
The force wrapped around the flower crown is not very strong and will dissipate in about a month.
By then, the flower crown should have withered.