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Within the Spirit Realm, atop the outpost.

Madam Qian was somewhat despairing. The principal was still as fierce as ever, swinging his fists as he battled within the endless vortex.

Like the hero from myth who slaughtered the Hydra.

Yet no matter how hard he fought, surrounded by multiple enemies, he gradually began to falter. More and more wounds appeared across his body, and his aura slowly started to decline.

The principal said nothing. He simply raised his fist again and again, then brought it down hard, earnestly.

Like an old farmer harvesting wheat with complete concentration,

Like a blacksmith hammering a billet with wholehearted dedication.

Watching the principal fight without pause, Madam Qian laughed at herself.

How could she lose heart at a time like this?

Thinking that,

Madam Qian prepared to take the stone slab still floating in midair. Meanwhile, Mr. Luther of the Order Union pulled a wooden cylinder from his robes. The cylinder radiated an ancient aura, its surface carved with all manner of profound symbols whose meanings were unknown.

But however extraordinary the object was,

It was merely a sealing container.

What truly mattered was what lay inside it.

Mr. Luther took out a yellowed sheet of parchment and spread it open. It was covered in crimson symbols.

Information about the parchment surfaced in Madam Qian's mind: Eternally Unfinished Sonata of Destruction.

Anyone who saw this score would develop an extremely strong obsession, unable to resist completing the incomplete music, using their own blood as ink.

But the more one thought about it,

The more lost one would become, unable to find a place to begin.

Until all of one's life force had been exhausted.

And now, Mr. Luther would use his life to continue writing the sonata. With his abilities, he could probably only