Qin Chuan raised his head and gazed up at the golden statue. It was a woman.
The statue's face was hard to make out; all he could see was a vague outline. But even from that outline, he could sense the dignity and holiness in her features.
Behind the statue, twelve enormous wings spread wide.
Six pairs of wings, arranged from the waist up to the crown of her head. Every feather had been carved in the finest detail, down to the serrated patterns along their edges.
A golden light shimmered across the wings. It wasn't reflected light; it seemed to radiate from the wings themselves.
The Twelve-Winged Angel God.
Qin Chuan had heard of the Six-Winged Angel God, but never the Twelve-Winged Angel God.
The melody of the hymn continued.
Hum, hum, hum.
The simple tune echoed across the empty plaza, bouncing off the flagstones and statues, multiplying into layer upon layer of sound.
The echoes grew thicker and heavier until, at last, they became a wall pressing in from every direction.
Qin Chuan's breathing grew heavy.
The statue hadn't moved, but Qin Chuan could feel it "looking" at him.
A gaze beyond the reach of words. A gaze from a higher dimension, looking down on him like an ant.
Under that gaze, Qin Chuan felt smaller than he ever had before.
He remembered being six years old, crouching alone on a field ridge, turning the soil with a hoe taller than he was.
Back then, he'd felt small, too.
But that smallness had been in relation to heaven and earth. The sky was too high, the land too vast, and he was too short.
This smallness was different. It was in relation to the rules.
Standing there, Qin Chuan was suddenly struck by a crystal-clear thought.
There were gods in this world.
Gods made the rules, and people followed them.
Soul Masters killed Soul Beasts, Soul Beasts transformed to escape, humans fought endlessly, and Martial Souls determined people's fates. Everything was governed by some higher order of rules.
And the one who had made that order was standing right in front of him.
Golden. Twelve wings. Looking down on an ant.
Qin Chuan's throat bobbed, and Heavenly Dao Power silently surged through his body.
The feeling of insignificance eased, but didn't disappear entirely.
The music still rang out.
But Qin Chuan's consciousness had already begun to slowly break free from its entranced state.
Heavenly Dao Power was a force bestowed on him by the Six Paths Reincarnation Eye. Its power belonged to a different system from the Angel God's, but it was at least no weaker.
Qin Chuan used Heavenly Dao Power to steady his mind, then carefully examined the scene before him once more.
A golden statue, twelve wings, a white plaza, the hymn echoing.
He dredged up a line from Yu Xiaogang's notes: "Everyone experiences a different hallucination when they hear the Angel Anthem. They say what you see depends on your future."
The listener's future.
Qin Chuan had seen the Twelve-Winged Angel God.
So what did his future have to do with the Angel God?
Qin Chuan's mind raced.
He wasn't sure what the hallucination meant. Perhaps he would have some connection to the Angel God in the future, or perhaps it was only his subconscious projecting its own idea of what a "god" was.
Whatever the case, the image had burned itself deep into his mind.
The melody of the hymn gradually faded.
The white plaza blurred, and the golden statue slowly vanished.
The light on the twelve wings dimmed bit by bit, like a candle being snuffed out by the wind.
Qin Chuan's consciousness was pulled completely back from the illusion.
The dim surroundings of the Star Dou Great Forest returned to view. Insect calls, the wind, the distant growl of some unknown Soul Beast—all the sounds came rushing back at once.
He looked down at his hands. His palms were slightly damp, beaded with a thin sheen of sweat.
The shock the hymn had given him was greater than Flowers Falling in a Dream and Memory Kill combined.
Flowers Falling in a Dream struck at emotions, Memory Kill struck at memories, and the Angel Anthem struck at the soul.
Three layers, each deeper than the last.
Qin Chuan reflected on what he'd just felt. The Angel Anthem hadn't made him sad or afraid; it hadn't even stirred any negative emotions in him.
It had shown him an existence on a higher plane.
The act of "seeing" that alone was the greatest shock.
Because when you saw your true place in the universe, when you saw how small you really were before the rules, it was hard to hold on to the confidence and composure you'd had before.
This Soul Skill would be terrifying in battle.
Imagine a Soul Douluo fighting with all his might, only to suddenly hear the Angel Anthem. His consciousness would be dragged into an illusion, where he'd witness something that shook his soul. Even if it lasted only two or three seconds, his attention would lapse for a moment.
In a duel between experts, two or three seconds of distraction could decide life or death.
Qin Chuan gathered his thoughts and turned his gaze to the [Humanoid Elf Beast] floating in midair.
It was still enveloped in Heavenly Dao Power, its two little red eyes fixed on Qin Chuan.
But Qin Chuan noticed that its expression had changed.
When he'd caught it earlier, its eyes had been filled with terror.
Now the terror was gone, replaced by something hard to describe—something calm.
It was as if it, too, had "seen" something while unleashing the Angel Anthem.
Qin Chuan watched it in silence for a few seconds, then made a decision. "You can go."
Qin Chuan released his hold with Heavenly Dao Power.
The Humanoid Elf Beast swayed in midair. Its four wings spread instinctively, steadying its body.
It didn't fly away at once. Instead, it hovered half a meter in front of Qin Chuan, its two red eyes staring unblinkingly at him.
Its cat ears twitched slightly, turning toward Qin Chuan.
Its tail hung naturally behind it, the fluffy tip swaying gently in the breeze.
It still didn't leave.
"Don't understand? You can go," Qin Chuan said again.
The Humanoid Elf Beast tilted its head.
Then it did something Qin Chuan had never expected.
Its body began to glow.
A pale golden light seeped from the surface of its skin, bit by bit. First its arms, then its chest, then its wings.
The light grew brighter and brighter, illuminating several meters around them.
Qin Chuan's pupils suddenly contracted.
He saw a white Soul Ring slowly emerge from within the Humanoid Elf Beast, wrapped in the golden light.
The Soul Ring was small, its white glow soft. It floated quietly above the creature.
Then it separated from its body, rose slowly, and drifted over to Qin Chuan.
As the Soul Ring left it, the Humanoid Elf Beast grew weaker. Its wings beat more slowly, and its body began to sink through the air.
Qin Chuan reached out instinctively and caught it.
The little body, barely twenty-something centimeters tall, landed in his palm, so light it seemed to weigh almost nothing.
Its eyes were still open, its little red eyes fixed on Qin Chuan. Though weak, it looked calm.
"A sacrifice?" Qin Chuan's voice came out a little hoarse.
The Humanoid Elf Beast didn't answer.
Its cat ears drooped, resting against either side of its head. Its four wings folded behind it, too weak to flap anymore.
Its tail drooped, too, resting across Qin Chuan's fingers, the fluff at its tip brushing against the base of his thumb.
Qin Chuan looked at the tiny living creature in his palm, his mind in turmoil.
He could understand the fear and struggle of the Sorrow Bird and the Lovesickness Heartbreak Butterfly when faced with death. That was instinct.
But he couldn't understand what this Humanoid Elf Beast was doing.
Why would it willingly offer up its Soul Ring?
A Soul Ring was the core of a Soul Beast. Offering it up meant death.
"Did you see something in the Angel Anthem, too?" Qin Chuan asked, staring into its eyes.
The corners of the Humanoid Elf Beast's mouth twitched faintly. Then it closed its eyes.