The King and the Rebel Minister (5)

At last, he heard that word again. It was a call almost instinctive in nature, ringing like bronze chime bells sounding together, like a golden harp snapping silk, like seawater churning and sobbing. It was peerless as a king, yet yearning like a child, crossing thousands upon thousands of years.

"Wake up."

So the boy gave an order to the dead dragon corpse. Layer upon layer of shackles, rotten white roses, moss, and dust fell from its body. It was reborn and rose to its feet, staggering like a child at first before quickly regaining the fierce majesty it had possessed in life.

Everything that had once been was already gone.

Everything newly born was about to return.

A deep, majestic roar rose up, as loud as a storm and tsunami, as though thousands upon thousands of gods were shouting in response.

"Black Snake, my poor little pet. Thousands of years have passed, yet you and I are both still alive. This world... is occasionally rather kind to me."

The boy pressed his forehead against the dragon's exposed skull and softly commanded, "Do not die."

"My child who made mistakes, my pet who atones, my most vital creation, King of Ocean and Water, stop looking at me so shyly. Show me the anger you have suffered for my sake."

A hurried melody began to play in the air.

"Come, I will save you."

"Come, embrace me."

"Come, my shy little one. Dance with me, before the whole world."

A new email arrived. "When that era comes, even the coal mines deep underground will be swallowed by the tide of the new century. It is both a beginning and a declaration."

"An email from the boss. Looks like the grand finale is about to arrive." Chip Girl set down her wineglass with chilled hands, then, after reading the message on her phone, darted beneath the blanket behind her at lightning speed.

It was simply too cold here. Even with the monitoring room's heating turned up to its maximum, it was useless.

"I told you we should have listened to the boss and drunk those two bottles of Belle Époque ahead of time. You insisted on saving them to celebrate our victory. Well, now... we get to drink ice chunks."

Inside the monitoring room, which rivaled a five-star hotel, Shuuder Mai and Su Enxi wrapped themselves in blankets and stared at the frost-covered surveillance screen, muttering softly.

"Weren't you the one talking about some foodie atmosphere? The white truffles and crab cakes you ordered still haven't arrived... You really eat like a good girl, don't you, Miss Glasses."

Outside, the world had become a frozen wasteland. The temperature had plummeted off a cliff, and the extreme cold swept through Nibelungen like the icy gaze of a god.

Every word that man spoke was like this: unremarkably domineering, with one or two prophecies like divine oracles mixed in. Whatever he wanted the world to permit, the world had to agree to make happen.

As Shuuder Mai spoke, her bright gaze remained fixed on the figure slowly rising from the dust and smoke on the screen, preparing to fly away. She murmured her question to herself.

"Is that the boss... or Lu Mingfei?"

As though she had thought of something, Su Enxi shivered.

"Who knows? Don't dwell on questions you'll never understand."

"Looks like there's no work left for us. Working days are unexpectedly easy."

"At this rate, sooner or later we'll be kicked out to sleep under a bridge..."

The entirety of Nibelungen was undergoing earth-shaking changes. This was no longer the dead kingdom of the King of Earth and Mountains. If God was to walk here, then this place would be God's kingdom. Massive ancient bronze-colored stones fell from the sky.

The subway stopped running, and the lights went out.

The terrified and despairing Kamaitachi scattered in every direction. An even stronger aura of death surged within the subway station. Before these great beings, they were insignificant. After the ground split open, seawater gushed out and froze over. The frigid wind swept through brutally, smashing and ravaging everything in its path.

The Nibelungen, transformed by some immense power, was filled with jagged ice pillars and stone peaks. The ground was dark blue like the sea.

"King of Ocean and Water? No, that's not it. How could it be?"

Jormungandr remained still. In her sight, the authority possessed by the newcomer was as weak as a candle flame in the wind. She had never seen the King of Ocean and Water, the one among the Four Great Sovereigns most capable of wielding the Rebirth Throne, possess authority so weak.

Yet the pressure the newcomer gave her far surpassed that of the King of Ocean and Water at his peak.

Despite possessing only such feeble authority.

Fenrir, who had reached the battlefield, let out a confused low growl and pawed at the hard ice like a canine. He wanted to help his sister, yet instinctively, immense terror enveloped him and prevented him from moving rashly.

It was a kind of majesty, majesty that shook all living things, as if a god had descended to walk the world. With but a single breath, he could crush any enemy he sensed!

Jormungandr likewise did not dare move carelessly, even as she gradually lost control over Nibelungen. Her mind went blank for a brief moment, then a sovereign's dignity forced her back to normal—at least, what she believed was normal.

Blood as the medium, authority as the bridge.

The one who had come was absolutely not either of the King of Ocean and Water siblings. He was a sovereign revived from a more ancient history... or something even more terrifying than them.

That was an utterly unparalleled bloodline. Envy and Pride at Chu Zihang's side roared as they flew backward, while Lust and Wrath, which Lu Mingfei had held earlier, also answered in submission. They spun through the air in elegant arcs before landing on the path the newcomer was about to take.

After a brief burst of cheering, they silently awaited their wielder's arrival.

The remaining five weapons within the Seven Sins sword case all sprang out. The power of the blades' revival knocked the internal mechanisms crooked. The living spirit within the case could not stop the alchemical swords from feeling both fear and yearning. Frost-thread, pine needle, drifting cloud, flame, and other patterns appeared upon the dark-gold hilts on the ice.

Another five blades landed unevenly along the icy path.

The ice surface became rough and uneven beneath the falling blades.

"Lust," similar to a Japanese wakizashi.

"Greed," similar to a Scottish Highland claymore.

"Gluttony," similar to an Ottoman yatagan.

"Envy," similar to a Japanese eifu tachi.

"Sloth," similar to a Chinese Tang saber, a straight ceremonial blade.

"Wrath," similar to a Chinese two-handed long-handled horse-chopping saber.

"Pride," similar to a Chinese Han Bafang.

Hearts were beating nearby—not one, but nine.

They did not dare disturb their wielder, but their submissive hearts beat without end.

The nine Seven Sins paved an "Original Sin Avenue," lying quietly in submission for the revived sovereign to choose from.

"...Who are you?" Jormungandr's teeth chattered.

In her subconscious, she avoided that answer.

What answered her was a pair of pitch-black membrane wings sweeping across the sky above Nibelungen.

A rain of fire began falling beneath the subway station's high ceiling. Countless crimson streams of light fell from the sky like tears, rushing in with shrill howls. They smashed the steep ice peaks and pillars on the ground, and the shattered, falling chunks of ice and stone were wrapped in blazing heat.

A dark "cross" appeared amid the rain.

The atmosphere trembled. Massive bony wings spread behind him, and with his wings and body, he formed a gigantic cross, standing amid the voidlike darkness and the howling winter gale.