In the Otherworld, the musician gently waved both hands as though conducting an invisible orchestra. Walton had already come down from the sky, but his expression remained troubled.
Walton had indeed crushed all the crows and undead, but their remaining soul energy had vanished in that instant, as though it had evaporated completely. Neither Walton nor the musician standing nearby had noticed anything unusual. They could not even find a trace.
Walton had two theories. Either some terrifying being had followed him to the Black Castle, something so powerful and strange that even he could not detect it, or the problem lay with the Sea Soul Blade.
Walton suddenly regretted giving the blade to Mulan so casually. In truth, the imperial family were not the only ones who valued Mulan highly. He did too.
Mulan Jonester was arguably the finest talent discovered in recent years. His character, iron will, remarkable ability to get things done, and exceptional intelligence and courage were all exceedingly rare. Moreover, his perception and intuition were extraordinarily keen, indicating an affinity for the mystical element.
So even the irreverent Walton went straight to Mulan's quarters after leaving the Otherworld.
Knock, knock, knock. Knock, knock, knock...
Walton's knocking was rather urgent. The musician who had accompanied him looked at the bloodstained feathers littering the ground outside. Black feathers tinged with red were everywhere, and there were noticeably more of them here.
After a long while, Mulan came to open the door and found Walton and the musician outside.
"Uh, Sir, is something the matter?"
"Didn't you notice anything unusual about the Black Castle today?"
Mulan glanced at the feathers outside and nodded as he answered.
"Yes, the crows were flying everywhere, but I didn't dare wander around under those circumstances, especially after they all suddenly burst apart. Now that you're here, though, does that mean everything is all right?"
Walton smiled.
"As expected of someone who's been on the battlefield. You've got nerves of steel. Everything is fine now. Oh, right, I forgot that I still need Sea Soul to write a report for Her Majesty the Queen to review. Could I borrow it for now?"
"Of course."
Mulan turned and went to the kitchen. He brought over the curved blade, which looked as though it had never been moved, and handed it back to Walton. Walton reached out casually to take it and gave him an apologetic smile.
"I promise it's still yours."
Mulan smiled too.
"I have my own sword."
"Oh, yes. It's called Fang, isn't it? I know a good smithy. You could have your sword sharpened there. Here's the address..."
Walton took a small notebook from his pocket and tore out a page. He brushed his hand lightly across the paper, and scorch marks appeared in place of ink, forming a line of text: an address.
"Thank you."
Mulan took the slip of paper, and Walton and the musician took the opportunity to say goodbye and leave.
Only after the two had gone some distance did Mulan close the door. Then he sat down on a kitchen chair, unable to calm himself for a long time.
Mulan knew the apparition he had just seen very well. It was the corpse from his dreams, but the familiarity did not end there. In fact, it closely resembled a sketch Mulan himself had drawn in his previous life: a figure with enormous wings behind him, clad in armor and a cloak, standing in the shadows. Its name was the Second Apostle.
The angle of view in his nightmares had prevented Mulan from recognizing him, but today that sense of familiarity had been especially strong.
Why had he called him the Second Apostle? Because there had been a period when Mulan was particularly caught up in adolescent fantasies, and he had used "First Apostle" as his online handle everywhere, from games to social media.
Confronted with a figure so close to his own creation, appearing in such a fleeting fashion, Mulan could not say whether he felt fear or excitement. He only knew he could never tell another soul about it.
At the same time, what weighed even more heavily on Mulan was the meaning behind what he had just witnessed.
There was no doubt that the Apostle was dead, and that the indifferent gaze within the chaos belonged to an Evil God. In that brief instant, Mulan had felt that gaze, and with it an immense terror. Every muscle, even every cell in his body, had seemed to spasm. Stabbing pains had spread all over him, as though each cell had developed a mind of its own and wanted to flee his body.
But Mulan understood that the gaze held no malice. Of course, it held no goodwill either. It was something harder to bear than malevolence: utter indifference.
Human suffering, human glory, human yearning, even humanity's very existence meant nothing to those eyes. What they watched was the flow of chaos, the distortions wrought by desire, and the direction of the world.
Alongside the terror came an overwhelming sense of insignificance.
In Mulan's office at the York District Police Station, piles of books already covered the desk. Most had been borrowed from the Black Castle's library. Only Mulan and Evan were in the office. Over the past few days, Mulan had sent Handel out to help handle cases for the York District Police Station.
If there was anyone among Mulan's acquaintances whom he could trust, then aside from his family, who were better off staying away from anything mystical, it was undoubtedly Evan.
Of course, Mulan could not reveal everything about his dreams and what he had seen. It was too private and too unbelievable. But he could describe it as a prophetic dream to explain his feelings. He desperately wanted to get to the bottom of certain things.
"Mulan, look. This Holy Temple record says that when the ancient rituals reached a certain turning point, practitioners of evil rites suddenly discovered that the rewards they received from praying to some great being far surpassed those of their old rituals..."
Mulan was also leafing through a thick book. When he spotted a passage, he read it aloud.
"Something within the chaos was stirred. No information was received in response, but a powerful influx of magical energy was obtained. The wizards on the icy peaks believed they had discovered rich deposits of magical energy in another realm of space and time, and were ecstatic..."
"During the Feudal Evil Moon Era, the evil ritualist Gutongs underwent a mutation and became a terrifying monster. Some said he had mixed a transformation potion incorrectly and could never regain human form. Others said he had performed a certain ritual and received power beyond what he could withstand."
Mulan read with a frown. Meanwhile, Evan rapidly scanned the pages of his own book, then closed it and picked up another. Soon, he found another useful record.
"Here, look here!"
Mulan leaned over, and Evan read the passage aloud.
"The sleeping True God sensed a terrible gaze from within the chaos. God realized that human creativity, combined with equally terrible desire, had opened a dreadful door. God awoke from slumber and cast Holy Light upon the world!"
Evan crossed his hands in a gesture of prayer, then looked at Mulan.
"Perhaps you should try studying a path that involves foresight, Mulan. I must say, what you described is very close to God's revelation! But what worries you is precisely what the Holy Temple has always been working to address."
Despite his words, Evan did not look optimistic. Mulan noticed.
"What's wrong?"
"It's just that even beneath the Holy Light of the True God, some human greed is inevitable. Even within the Holy Temple, there are quite a few people who stray from God's teachings..."
Mulan understood. As a vast organization, the Holy Temple spread its faith across almost half the world. Its enormous sphere of influence and countless followers would inevitably breed corruption, as well as struggles for power. Evan was now highly valued by the Holy Temple's upper ranks. Perhaps he had inevitably experienced some of this himself, making him feel that the Holy Temple was not entirely pure either.
"What is it? Have some archbishops been giving you special attention?"
Evan knew Mulan was far more experienced in navigating human relationships, but he had not expected him to be so perceptive.
Mulan patted Evan on the shoulder.
"It's written all over your face. That's fine with me, but you should be more careful around them."
"Do you really think I don't understand anything? Everything else is hollow. Only my own cultivation and devotion to God form the foundation of my progress."
Mulan and Evan worked very hard. Few people devoted as much effort as they did to foundational knowledge and obscure subjects. Yet the books from the Black Castle and the Holy Temple did not truly offer a systematic account of certain parts of history.
Unlike the human history of dynastic succession, records of the mystical world were full of legends and exaggerations. Their precise truth was difficult to establish, leaving only interpretations disputed to varying degrees.
But Mulan possessed a perspective beyond this era. Combined with his dreams, it allowed him and Evan to arrive at conclusions of their own, close to one of the prevailing views in the mystical world, but taken further.
Many people in this world used rituals, whether inherited from ancient traditions or developed through their own experimentation, hoping to obtain things that would satisfy their desires.
Just as science continued to advance, those studying mystical powers never stopped exploring. One day, whether inevitably or by chance, they discovered that certain methods could establish a connection with great beings, vastly increasing the mystical rewards received from the chaos. From there, things spiraled out of control.
After a period of accumulated experience, many insane methods were discarded. But that could not stop certain madmen from charging down twisted paths, provoking one conflict after another, one war after another.
Scholars of mysticism also made progress in their study of gods. Those unimaginably great beings that answered prayers and rituals were called gods.
Within the old, native faith of the Holy Light, certain archbishops proclaimed divine revelations, restrained the faithful, and eradicated evil.
The gods within the chaos were presumably conscious individuals as well. Yet they seemed both never to answer their petitioners and followers, and to grant without restraint every wish whose conditions were sufficient. Neither they nor their followers appeared to have control over this relationship, leading many scholars of mysticism to consider it extremely dangerous.
Powerful mystical elements created by uncontrollable factors in certain ancient rituals under the influence of gods were often called holy relics. The variables involved in their creation were almost impossible to control, yet they often contained unfathomable power. With that power came danger.
As a religious order whose faith dated back to ancient times, the Holy Temple had always warned the world of the dangers of holy relics and fought evil through various means. Yet it seemed forever unable to keep pace with the growth of human desire.
These conclusions had all been drawn from books, but Mulan and Evan knew they could not believe everything they read. Even the Holy Temple often had no choice but to use the power of holy relics to combat evil.
Mulan and Evan now understood very clearly that just as ordinary people risked great danger by prying into the Otherworld, the world's madmen with their swollen desires courted equal danger by making demands of the chaos and Evil Gods. When one gazed into the abyss, the abyss gazed back.
Perhaps someone had reached similar conclusions long ago. Perhaps quite a few people understood this. But Mulan and Evan could say that, among those at their stage, no one understood it more deeply than they did.