Silent Crown Chapter 797 - Funeral (2)

Translator: Nyoi-Bo Studio  Editor: Nyoi-Bo Studio

It was the first time he dreamt of a place so beautiful. It was like something out of a fairy tale.

Within the layers of light, he saw a white-haired young man, who had lowered his head and was smiling even as he was putting a ring onto a girl's finger. There was no pain nor misfortune. That scene was full of so much happiness and joy that he felt like he could experience the same thing too. Then, he woke up from his dream.

Charles opened his eye and heard the sound of water boiling. The firewood cracked in the stove. Someone was sitting in front of the stove, with his back facing against Charles. He was watching the fire.

"Is it morning already?" Charles looked up with a confused look on his face.

"No, it's midnight." The man picked up the water flask on the stove and stood up. He grabbed a handful of tea leaves from the tea canister on the table and threw them into the broken water flask. When the boiling water was poured into the water flask, the tea leaves tumbled around and the water turned into a faint shade of red. After shaking it a few times, the tea, which was not exactly fragrant, was poured into two broken wooden cups, and placed on the bedside. He seemed to be very familiar with this place, as if it was his home.

Paganini dragged a broken chair over and sat in front of Charles. "Apologies for waking you up from your dream." He might have apologized, but his face showed no hint of regret. There was only a look of chilling serenity.

"What happened?" Charles was confused. "All of a sudden…"

Paganini cut him off and brought him a cup of tea, "Tea?"

"Ah, thank you." Charles subconsciously took over the cup of tea. He lowered his head and took a sniff. It was still the same smell of tea leaves that were of poor quality, but the water temperature was perfect and did not seem like it had just boiled.

The cheap tea leaves floated in the hot water, as they either rose or sank. All of a sudden, there was an instant when the dark red color of the water seemed to transform into flames that were spreading across the land before suddenly rising, and finally disappearing. Illusions of lands and buildings on fire suddenly appeared in the cup of tea. Flames were spreading like tidal waves and drowning all the corpses and skeletons. There were screams of despair and children were crying.

Pat! Charles' hand trembled and the cup of tea fell. The tea was spilled and the illusions vanished. Charles was stunned.

Paganini looked down, as if he did not see anything, and turned a blind eye to what had just happened. He drank a sip of tea and placed his cup back onto the table. When he looked at Charles, there was a look of thoughtfulness and disappointment on his face. "No matter how hard I think about it, I can never figure out why God will take such special care of someone like you?"

"I'm sorry." Charles was embarrassed as he picked up the cup of tea that he had spilled.

"There's no need to apologize. This is not a mistake after all. No, perhaps to you, it is." Paganini took over the cup from Charles and looked down at the tea leaves at the bottom of the cup. He looked like a fortune teller that was able to take a peek into the future through the shape of the remaining tea residue.

"Leave, Charles." He lowered his head and suddenly said, "You have finished your tea. You should leave. Leave through the back of the village. Someone will pick you up by the river and send you to Anglo."

In the ensuing silence, Charles suddenly felt a sharp pain in his skull. It left as quickly as it came. Now, there was only the lingering pain that felt like a thin metal wire had penetrated through his head.

He subconsciously pressed against his forehead. Once again, he heard the screams of despair and the cries of children coming from a place that was far away. There were also the sounds of burning and the earth-shattering… but those sounds were gone very quickly. No, it was as if they never happened.

But the pain was now beginning to spread to his spine. All of a sudden, Charles felt bitterly cold, as if he had been tossed into an icy river. As he tumbled in the icy waters, he suddenly crashed into an iceberg with a huge roar.

All these sensations were suddenly cut off. Paganini had already given more than enough hints. Realization suddenly dawned on him and he finally understood everything.

"Is it really like this?" Charles looked up at him and seemed to be in a daze. "Mr. Constantine, he… has finally decided to kill me?" The corner of his mouth twitched, as if he was trying to laugh at himself, but it was a poor attempt and overall, he just looked awful. No matter how hard he tried, he could not bring himself to laugh. "Can you tell me… why?"

"At this stage, are you still going to ask such a foolish question, Charles?" Paganini looked at him pitifully. "From the very beginning, Constantine was just an illusion in your eyes. You can see the truth behind everything, yet why can't you see the nature of people? He is just the way he is. He is always obsessed with things that he can never get. He is deeply obsessed and he has committed plenty of sins. He had no qualms killing in anyone that was in his way. Charles, you are in his way."

"I'm sorry." Charles lowered his head and apologized. It had already become a habit. "I'm sorry. I just wanted to…"

"You just wanted to step down from the altar, right?" Paganini cut him off, "You wanted to change the world according to your wishes. No, probably anyone would have thought the same. But you are the only one who will be able to change it easily. You have the ability to destroy everything that Gaius had worked for. It is just that easy and simple to you."

The piercing sound of a whistle broke the silence. It came from a place that was far away.

"You should leave now," Paganini repeated again. His face was devoid of emotions even as he was urging Charles.

Charles looked at him despondently, as if he did not understand what Paganini was saying.

Paganini frowned and finally sighed helplessly. Then, he stretched out his hand. He was as swift as lightning as he gave Charles a slap.

Slap! Then another one. His eye patch fell off, revealing an empty eye socket. The wound had begun to tear and blood dripped down his face. His only remaining eye looked up at him. There was only emptiness in his eye, just like the empty eye socket.

"How unbecoming. Have you lost the pride that a musician should have?" Paganini drew back his palm and tossed a box to him. "Take your things and scram! Don't make me repeat myself again!"

The box opened as it was tossed to him. A sliver of pure light could be seen from shining from within. The box contained an eye that had been sealed up. The eyeball seemed to have been transformed into a crystal. Countless reflections bounced off the crystallized body and seemed as if it contained all the secrets and power of this world.

That was Charles' eye. The power of God was sealed within it. It was the only one of its kind.

"Why are you helping me?" Charles asked softly. "If I die, wouldn't you have gotten what you wanted?"

"Don't think too highly of yourself, Charles." Paganini stared at him indifferently. "What I want is to see God die, not you.

"You are still far too unworthy."

Charles was stunned. He held on to his eye quickly and laughed bitterly. "Indeed. I am already such a failure at being an ordinary man. How can I still dream about changing the world?" He wore his shoes and coat. He looked swollen and ugly, like a round ball. He wore his hat and pushed the door open. Finally, he turned back and bade farewell, "See you again."

"No, this is goodbye forever." Paganini's back was facing him and his voice was cold. "After you reach Anglo, give up on those unrealistic dreams. Just live an honest life as an ordinary man and die an ordinary death. That will suit you more."

The sound of his footsteps grew faint and distant. He tumbled and fell. It was snowing outside and the sound of the crunching of snow underneath his feet grew faint over time.

In the end, he didn't stay. It's disappointing yet there's nothing bad about that either. Just like that, he shall live the rest of his life as a good-for-nothing. This is the only thing that you can do now.

Paganini closed his eyes. The fire underneath the stove was extinguished by the gusts of wind outside the door.

"You did something that was inconsequential, Paganini." Wolf Flute was leaning against the frame of the door as he lowered his head and continued to smoke. "What happened? Your conscience was finally pricked?"

"It's probably something to do with musicians and our obsessive-compulsive disorders." Paganini's voice was calm. "All I'm thinking is that rather than leaving things dangling halfway, I might as well destroy him completely."

If only Charles was really able to become God. It was not the first time that he had thought about this before. But he had been chasing after God for his entire life, so if he was to find out that God would turn out to be such a joke, perhaps it was better to destroy it instead?

It would never be a good thing for a human to possess those powers. It resulted in Charles being completely disappointed in the powers of God. He refused to become something similar, so he gradually transformed from the embryonic form of God into a mediocre and ordinary man.

"Flesh and blood cannot inherit the kingdom of God, nor does the perishable inherit the imperishable…" Paganini chanted the verse from the Holy Bible. His eyes lowered. "I am not worthy, and so is he."

As such, it would be best for him to die somewhere as an ordinary man. If there was such a thing as fate, then this would be the most merciful ending for him.

In the silence, Wolf Flute might have failed to accomplish his mission but neither did he chase after Charles nor attack Paganini out of anger. He merely lowered his head and stepped on the tobacco roll to extinguish it. "If only that's the case," he continued, "It's too bad…"

It was late at night and the village was quiet. There was no sound whatsoever, except for the sound of footsteps in the snow. They sounded like there was serious trouble.

Charles tried to run as fast as he could but all that he could do was to stumble along here and there. In the end, he fell down onto the snow and had to keep crawling forward out of desperation. He turned around to look behind him, only to see no one chasing after him. He seemed to hear a roar coming from somewhere far away but it was not clear. All he could hear was his own panting.

The distance was so short yet it was so tiring. He was so tired that once he fell down onto the slush, he did not feel like getting up anymore. Perhaps this was for the best. He would just sleep and die quietly. There would be no pain.

But the hallucination-like pain was spreading in his skull. It chased away his desire to sleep and forced him to get up once more. He would push on and continue running, only to fall down, then get up and run again. Stumbling, stumbling, stumbling.

The melted snow brought down his body's temperature and cold hallucination spread in his brain. It made him see that the lands were burning. The snow had melted and the flames were spreading across the entire village. It was burning everywhere. Children were screaming and crying in the flames. The adults were the same too. Very soon, they were all dead. All because of him. Because of him…

He gritted his teeth and closed his eyes before screaming hoarsely. Those hallucinations were finally dispelled and he continued running. In the end, there was a heavy thud at the back of his head and he fell. Someone grabbed his hair and pressed him onto the ground forcefully. He was laughing gleefully. "I've caught you!"

"How lucky. To think that I have gotten myself a big catch just by heading off somewhere to pee." That man's mouth cracked into a smile. His teeth were all yellow. He shouted into the distance, "Hey! Come over! He's here! I caught him!" He removed his gloves and tried to use his stiff fingers to tie Charles up with his rope, only hear him making some noises.

"Why…" It was Charles. He lowered his head and buried it in the slush, but he could not stop choking. "Oh, why…" He was weeping and sobbing like a weakling. He wanted to cry out loud, but he felt anxiety in his lungs. It was as if he had swallowed charcoal and was having difficulty breathing. The pain was spreading to his internal organs.

It was rage that urged him to continue struggling and contorting his body. He would not stop even if he would risk breaking his arm. When he finally managed to get off the ground, he pushed the man down with all his might. It was like two children fighting with each other. He picked up a rock amongst the snow and smashed it against the man's face with force.

"Tell me," he tried to growl with all his might but what came out of his mouth was like a whimper, "what have I done wrong! What exactly did I do wrong!

"Who can tell me why?

"Why do I have to die!"

He was screaming at the top of his lungs. The ferocious expression on his face was completely covered by tears and snot and looked rather hilarious.

The face, which was wearing an expression of shock, was completely smashed by the rock. It was contorted and an eye fell out of its broken eye socket, only to be smashed as well.

"All I wanted was to make this world a better place…" Charles choked as he could not suppress his sorrow, no matter how hard he tried. "All I wanted… all I wanted… was to save all of you!"

The rock, which was now stained with blood, rolled onto the ground. That man no longer made a sound.

A flame lit up from a distance away and the sounds of shouting grew nearer. It was as if a few people were running in this direction. A signal flare was shot into the sky and exploded into hot and burning light before falling back down gradually. The light lit up Charles' face.

He pushed himself up and charged aimlessly into the woods. He would fall many times, only to get up after each time, as if he felt no pain. He ran towards the crossing. At the very least, he must leave this place.

"Over here! Here!" At the crossing, there was a small boat that was about to leave the shore. Someone was waving to him. "Hurry up! They can't delay any longer!"

The rope had been loosened. That man was sitting at the side of the boat. He put his hands into the icy water to summon rapids. Charles sprinted as fast as he could. He ignored his own panting and the strange sound from behind him.

Then, he saw it. The icy river turned red in color. A head had been separated from its neck and had fallen into the water. Then, the headless corpse on the boat followed suit and fell in as well. All that remained was a kukri that was stuck on the deck of the boat.

A sliver of recurving glow had burst forth in an instant to cut off that man's head cleanly. It even cut off the entire boat. The blade of the knife was still buzzing. Soon after, the music notes on the knife lit up and the power within the alchemy formation burst forth. A terrifying tremble began to spread and caused the entire boat, along with the knife, to collapse into dust. It fell into the river and melted into the mortar, which vanished soon after.

Only Charles was left standing knee-deep in the icy water. In a state of panic and confusion, he turned around and looked behind him. Deep in the forest, a pair of dark-purple light glowed silently.

What kind of creature would possess those eyes?

They were like the gemstones of Hades as they were devoid of warmth and were tens of thousands of times colder than ice stream and cold wind. Amidst the deep sounds of footsteps, twigs and branches were being crushed. The purple-eyed griffin stood beneath the moonlight and stared at him.

Chapter end